SCP-610 ⨷ The Flesh that Hates

In the deepest, coldest corners of Russia, where the sun's just a distant memory and hope is a luxury no one can afford, a mysterious disease outbreak began tearing through a tiny farming village. The locals were more used to wrestling bears than germs, but this was different. This had a nasty bite and an even nastier aftertaste.

No cure, no clue where it came from, and the worst part? Dying wasn't even the end. Oh no, the real fun started after you kicked the bucket. After a fever that felt like your insides were being roasted on a spit, the unlucky souls would writhe in pain, only to mercifully—ha, as if!—succumb to the disease. But instead of staying put in their graves like polite corpses, they just had to come back, this time with a mission: to make everyone else as miserable as they were.

The virus spread like gossip at a family reunion, and soon, the dead outnumbered the living. The world spiraled into chaos, and it was starting to look like a bad zombie movie, except there was no popcorn, just panic.

But for the SCP Foundation, this wasn't fiction—it was just another Monday. The horror that unfolded in that little Siberian hellhole was the first recorded encounter with SCP-610, charmingly known as "The Flesh That Hates." I mean, who wouldn't love a name like that?

It all started innocently enough—if you consider livestock vanishing into thin air innocent. The farmers blamed wild animals, but when nothing turned up except some very confused chickens, people started wondering if something else was at play. And then the farmers themselves began to disappear. Authorities shrugged it off, as they often do, probably thinking the locals had just decided to take a very, very long vacation. That is until they, too, started vanishing like free samples at Costco.

Families left behind reported strange noises from the woods—moans, inhuman screeches, the kind of sounds that made you wish you'd never been born with ears. One kid even swore he saw a cow with tentacles. The regional police, bless their souls, were sent in to investigate and report back within 24 hours. They never did. Seems like they found something really interesting out there.

At this point, the Russian government got worried. Maybe they thought it was insurgents or foreign spies, but whatever it was, they decided to throw some special agents into the mix. Spoiler alert: they vanished too. The village had turned into a black hole where people went in but didn't come out.

Out of desperation, the Russian government called in the SCP Foundation, the last resort when things go so far off the rails that you start considering a career in goat herding.

What the Foundation uncovered was beyond their wildest nightmares—wilder than a dentist convention in a candy store. Before diving into the heart of darkness, they sealed off the area, unsure if it was even safe to send researchers into the containment zone. Instead, they deployed a small, camera-mounted unit, affectionately nicknamed Herbie, to capture footage of whatever was left of the village.

What Herbie recorded was enough to turn your stomach inside out and make you question every life choice that led you to this point.

SCP-610 is classified as a Keter entity, meaning it's basically the containment equivalent of trying to juggle chainsaws while blindfolded. This nasty piece of work is a highly contagious skin disease that starts off with a seemingly harmless rash, like you've been rolling around in poison ivy. But within hours, that rash morphs into thick, rubbery flesh that slowly consumes the victim. And just when you think you're out of the woods, death comes knocking—but not for long.

Because three minutes after the victim flatlines, their heart decides to give it another go, and the flesh starts moving, multiplying, and turning them into something that barely resembles the human they once were. Each case of SCP-610 is a unique snowflake from hell, with mutations ranging from extra limbs to gaping maws of scar tissue. In some cases, the poor soul becomes a stationary fixture, their flesh spreading out like some nightmarish throw rug, consuming everything in its path.

The mobile infected are another story—they're aggressive, violent, and hell-bent on sharing the love with anything that crosses their path. The disease isn't picky; it'll take down humans, animals, you name it. It's a real equal-opportunity destroyer.

Due to the extreme danger posed by SCP-610, the only safe way to observe the infected is through drones and remote cameras, which brings us back to Herbie. Herbie was sent to an infected area, dubbed Site A, and after two hours of recording everything from the comfort of the perimeter, it decided to follow an infected into a house. What Herbie captured was the stuff of nightmares—a twisted, grotesque parody of a family dinner.

Infected sat around a table, their flesh peeling away to serve as the main course. They eagerly gobbled down the wriggling flesh like it was the last supper, turning what should have been a peaceful meal into a stomach-churning display. Herbie, having seen enough, moved on and stumbled upon a stack of bodies—military, civilian, all piled up with one infected perched on top like it was claiming a throne. Herbie then wandered toward the town hall, only to be grabbed by an infected girl—well, her face was still that of a girl, but the body was something else entirely. The last thing Herbie's camera captured was the girl's face splitting open, tendrils of flesh dragging the rover into her gaping maw. Then, darkness.

Herbie's signal went dark for a good five hours, only to flicker back to life briefly, covered in some unidentified goo. The feed was cut out for good after that, and Herbie was left to rot inside Site A.

The Foundation tried sending in manned expeditions, but they didn't fare much better. They lost people to infected attacks, earthquakes, and who knows what else. One unlucky group even discovered an underground network of tunnels filled with infected, including a bunch of captives—humans who hadn't yet fully turned. The final moments of their video feed showed operatives being hacked apart by an infected wielding a scythe, proving that these abominations were capable of more than just brute force—they were learning.

Since then, no more manned expeditions have been attempted, or if they have, they're buried so deep in classified files that even the cockroaches can't find them.

SCP-610 isn't like the other SCPs, the kind you can toss into a box and call it a day. Containment is a pipe dream—this thing's too widespread and too dangerous to handle directly. Instead, the infected areas have been isolated, with the Russian government's blessing. A perimeter has been established, and anyone who even thinks about crossing it is warned off with the excuse of military operations. For once, the truth is actually scarier than the cover story.

Human guards stand watch, ready to torch anything that even looks remotely infected. If someone's unlucky enough to get too close, they're quarantined, examined, and if necessary, put down like a rabid dog. The infection can spread through the air, but it's a lot less contagious that way—thank your lucky stars for small favors.

The infected sites are still active today, modern-day leper colonies of death and decay. The military does what it can to keep it contained, but SCP-610 isn't just lying down and taking it. It's still alive, still spreading, and still evolving. The Foundation doesn't know much about where it came from or what it's fully capable of, but one thing's for sure—this flesh hates, and it's not going to stop anytime soon.

So next time you feel a little itch, try not to think too hard about what might happen next. After all, ignorance is bliss—until it isn't.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Item #: SCP-610

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: Due to the vast area of 'infection' SCP-610 covers, containment is impossible. Isolation of the area has proved far more effective and permission has been granted by the Russian government to establish a perimeter to keep people out of these areas under the guise of military operations.

Should any organism displaying traits consistent with SCP-610 be sighted near this perimeter then the established protocol requires it be engaged at range with small arms until immobile then dispatched using incendiary weapons and munitions from as great a distance as possible. Any living thing coming in physical contact with an organism infected with SCP-610 is considered expendable and is to be immediately terminated and incinerated. Any persons coming within three meters of SCP-610 infected life are to immediately withdraw from the area, be isolated from the rest of their team, and be subjected to medical examination using only remote techniques to determine if infection has occurred and appropriate steps taken based on that determination.

At present the known infection vectors for SCP-610's spread seem to be focused on physical contact. Drone movements within heavily infected areas have returned air samples containing minute particulate which when exposed to organic compounds will result in the spread of SCP-610. The results of these particular tests have revealed that most require several days to manifest if at all, with the exception of direct contact with exposed lung and liver tissue. These particular tests show a rapid rate of growth which requires incineration of the testing environment no more than twenty-four hours after initial exposure, with even a two-hour mishap risking a compromised facility event. Given that this kind of rapid growth only occurs in organic material existing outside the human body, this form of infection is currently considered a minor concern.

These peculiarities have given rise to a series of questions regarding the possible origin of the infection in conjunction with the failed [DATA EXPUNGED]. Containment protocol remains at a scorched earth policy at this time and no concern for transmission via water or air at infection parameters exists barring situational changes in the field.

Description: Initial reports of SCP-610 came directly from the Russian government through undisclosable channels. These reports consisted primarily of disappearances of farmers in the region and were not considered until the local police, followed by the regional police, and finally, a government-dispatched agent all failed to report in within a 72-hour period. A small military contingent was dispatched to the area and quickly withdrew at which point The Foundation was contacted to investigate.

The area SCP-610 affects is close to Lake Baikal in Southern Siberia. Areas of known infection are marked on a map provided to us here. Containment perimeters are marked in blue surrounding these infection areas and as of present no further locations have been identified. Incursions into the perimeter must be reported prior to conduct, confirmed during exploration, and debriefed immediately following return.

SCP-610 appears to be a contagious skin disease at first with symptoms including rash, itching, and increased skin sensitivity. Within 3 hours the disease will cause blemishes resembling heavy scar tissue to form in the chest and arm areas, spreading to the legs and back within an additional hour, consuming the victim completely within five hours. Exposure to higher temperatures vastly decreases the time for the contagion to spread and complete infections have been recorded occurring in as little as five minutes.

After the completion of the infection occurs the victim's life functions will cease for approximately 3 minutes after which time they will restart at 2-3 times the activity rate of a normal human. Following this, the scar tissue on the victims will start to move of its own accord and grow at a rapid rate. Normal human features start to disappear at this point under the infection and the path of mutation appears to be largely random. Subjects observed in this stage of infection have been recorded as growing three or more limbs of a type such as arms or legs, the head may become misshapen and elongate or widen out, and parts of the subject may split open from which additional branches of flesh will grow. The duration of this stage of infection is unknown and not all subjects appear to progress to the later stages.

Under unknown conditions, an infected individual will cease moving and place itself in a location it deems suitable where it roots itself. The fleshy growth on the victim will then begin to spread itself across all surrounding objects and consume them. Such objects do not spread the infection as living creatures do, however, and the effect of prolonged contact with these objects is recorded later in this document. It is assumed that this behavior is to create an area hospitable to the continued growth of the other infected.

Observation of life infected by SCP-610 by staff is impossible. Those infected with the disease immediately seek out aid as a natural human impulse resulting in unintended infections. Those infected past the scar tissue phase actively and aggressively attempt to infect anyone approaching them within an undefined area. It has been established that should an infected be capable of sight and observe an uninfected, it will proceed toward them. If the infected has lost the ability of sight, a range of approximately 30 meters is considered safe.

Observation of SCP-610 infected settlements has been established using artificial methods such as remote robots. The data returned from these observations coupled with the openly aggressive nature of the infected to attempt to spread SCP-610 has resulted in the Keter classification, however so long as nothing is allowed to enter or leave the infected areas it is considered a neutralized threat. Of concern are the cavernous areas beneath the infected settlements that were discovered during the exploration and attempts to get research personnel into these areas are underway.

Field Logs:

SCP-610-L1 - A small remote-controlled rover is sent to Site A to locate missing personnel.

SCP-610-L2 - An infected Class-D personnel is sent into Site C with video equipment.

SCP-610-L3 - Initial discovery of the tunnel entrances at Site A.

SCP-610-L4 - Unmanned exploration of the Site A tunnels.

SCP-610-L5 - Manned exploration of the Site A tunnels.