SCP 096

📝 Special Statement

Within the cold, steel corridors of the SCP Foundation, a creature exists that embodies the primal fear of being watched. Known to researchers as SCP-096, and to the terrified few who have survived a containment breach as "The Shy Guy," this entity is a masterclass in psychological horror. It stands at a grotesque 2.38 meters tall, with arms that reach almost to its feet and a jaw that can unhinge to four times the capacity of a normal human. Its skin is a pale, translucent gray, stretched tight over a frame that appears dangerously malnourished. Most of the time, this creature is a picture of profound sadness, spending its hours pacing by its cell wall or weeping into its hands with a sound that chills the bone. 🌫️

The horror of SCP-096 lies in its absolute intolerance for being seen. This is not a creature that hunts for hunger or sport; it kills because of an extreme, anomalous form of scopophobia. If any human views its face—whether it is a direct glance, a video feed, or even a photograph—the creature instantly enters a state of catastrophic emotional distress. It begins to scream and babble in an incoherent, high-pitched wail that can be heard through the thickest containment walls. This period of mourning lasts only a minute or two before the creature transitions from a weeping mess into a relentless engine of destruction. 👁️

Once enraged, there is no force in the known world that can halt the advance of the Shy Guy toward its target. It possesses a psychic awareness of the person who saw its face, regardless of the distance between them. It has been known to tear through reinforced steel doors, swim through the crushing pressures of the deepest ocean trenches, and leap high enough to pull low-flying aircraft from the sky. No mountain is too high and no bunker is too deep to provide safety from its fixation. It moves at a phenomenal speed that defies conventional physics, fueled by a singular, obsessive drive to eliminate the witness. 🏃

Upon reaching its victim, the outcome is always the same: a total and violent termination that leaves no trace of the subject behind. After the act is finished, the creature’s rage dissipates as quickly as it began, leaving it a docile, weeping humanoid once again. It will then attempt to return to its natural habitat or sit quietly until Foundation recovery teams arrive with a light-proof bag to place over its head. This cycle of mourning and massacre makes it one of the most unpredictable and dangerous entities in the Euclid classification. The Foundation’s containment protocols are absolute: no cameras, no windows, and no eyes are ever permitted inside its cell. 🌑

The true origin of this weeping monster remains a mystery shrouded in contradictory legends and redacted files. Some theories suggest it was once a man cursed by ancient mountain rituals, while others believe it is a byproduct of severe anomalous evolution. Regardless of its past, its current existence is a living warning about the dangers of the unknown and the price of a single, accidental glance. It serves as a reminder that some things in this universe are not meant to be looked upon, no matter how much we desire to see. The only way to survive an encounter with the Shy Guy is to never look up at all. 🏆