SCP-3001, Red Reality.
What does it mean to be truly alone?
You can be alone in a room, in a building, on an island, or on the moon, or you can be
alone in your own mind, but we all live in a world filled with people.
SCP-3001 on the other hand shows us an example of an individual that is truly and utterly
alone, which is a unique case of science-fiction, and yet it also manages to be surprisingly
grounded in reality.
SCP-3001 is not a happy story, but it's also an incomplete one, which leaves us with a
sense of hope.
The bulk of 3001 takes the form of transcribed logs, so I would suggest reading through it
all yourself, but I'll try to strike a balance between summarizing and reading them.
To put it simply, scp-3001 is a non-dimension accessibly through the creation of a specific
type of flawed wormhole.
Basically, it is a space between dimensions that really shouldn't exist, but was discovered
by the scp foundation accidentally.
It is believed to extend infinitely in all directions, but possesses no matter of any
kind.
The non-dimension also has an extremely low Hume level, which is a degree of measurement
used by the foundation to measure the strength or amount of reality in a given area.
In other words, our baseline reality has a given level of Hume that we're accustomed
to, but certain factors, such as other dimensions or reality benders, can change that level
of Hume as things become more or less, real, so to speak.
What a very low Hume level means for 3001 is that matter that would be located inside
the non-dimension decays at an extremely slow rate, and organisms could still function despite
taking damage that would normally kill them, up to a certain point.
The downside of this however is that Hume fields tend to even out, and so prolonged
exposure to 3001 will cause an organism's Hume level to drop until they begin to disintegrate.
3001 was discovered in 2000, while Dr. Robert Scranton and his wife Dr. Anna Lang were working
on a device that would stabilize reality by manipulating Hume levels.
Unexpected seismic activity at the site damaged several experimental reality stabilizers,
creating one of those specific wormholes, which proceeded to pull Robert into the non-dimension
before closing.
We are then presented with a large number of logs, transcribed from audio recordings
made by Robert.
For the first eight days of Robert being inside 3001, he attempts to navigate the non-dimension
to find a way out while going through periods of panic, confusion, and anger.
He eventually makes his way over to a control panel that had gone through the wormhole with
him, although he doesn't realize at first that it is actively recording.
He makes several recordings, presumably for his own benefit, as he states his name and
date of birth, mentions his favorite color is blue and his favorite song is living on
a prayer, and that he loves his wife, Anna.
Before long, he notices a flashing light on the control panel, and realizes that the machine
is working and recording.
He panics and states his name again, asking if anyone can hear him, saying he doesn't
know where he is.
He's not sure at all how the machine is working, but he's pretty sure that no one can hear
him.
He also notes how hungry and thirsty he is, saying that he should have died of dehydration
by now, an effect of the low Hume level, although it will take Robert some time to realize this.
After fiddling with the machine some more, he locates the controls, causing the machine
to speak, telling him he's been here for two weeks, three days, seven hours, and fifty
eight minutes.
Another week goes by, with Robert realizing now that it doesn't seem like he'll die here
due to hunger or thirst, and he wonders if by some miracle he'll find his way out of
here.
Five weeks go by with Robert barely recording anything, but he comes back and says that
he's been trying to learn about this place he's in, referring to it as his prison and
his kingdom.
He manages to maintain his professionalism, recording a log saying that he's going to
document this place as an SCP to maybe help someone else in the future that gets stuck
in here.
A few days later, he records a log as if it were a standard SCP document about the non-dimension,
but we can see the cracks in his mental state beginning to show.
The only light source in the entire non-dimension is the small red light on the control panel,
so he's been using that as a marker for his explorations.
He also notes that he's felt an itch or a tingle across his head recently, but only
if he concentrates on it.
He next realizes that although he's thought he's been walking on flat ground this whole
time, there really shouldn't be anything to walk on in this place, and now he notes that
it's felt more like he's been swimming through something that's been applying pressure, like
a thick black gel.
He now realizes that by concentrating, he can actually move vertically as well as horizontally,
again using the red light as his reference point, or as he calls it, little red.
He understands a bit more about the location he's in now, knowing that it was caused by
a problem with the reality stabilizer.
He does some math and apparently figures out how low the Hume level of this non-dimension
is, but is not sure of the effects of that, as he mostly worked with above average Hume
levels.
At this point, he really begins talking to the red light directly as if it were a person.
He seems to be speaking to it and imagines responses coming back from it, but this is
a pretty understandable event in this situation.
Robert's scientific mind allows him to keep focus however, as he continues to perform
calculations to help him understand 3001.
He learns that the reality stabilizer that sent him and the control panel here cranked
up their Hume levels to a few times normal level, meaning that it will take longer for
them to equalize with 3001 and disintegrate.
By his calculations, he has about 3 years or so before he's gone, and he believes he'll
have something figured out by then.
The tingling feeling he's had is his Hume level starting to diffuse.
Robert's next log reads:
"Hey, red.
I…
I'm gonna have to go for a bit.
I want to test something, and you can't come with me.
I…
I'm sorry.
No, no, red, I'm really, really sorry, I want you to come, I do, but… if we're together
the diffusion will increase faster…
We both need as much time as possible.
I need to figure this place out more, and you need to make sure you keep all that info
in your head.
It's… red, come on.
You- you'll be fine red, I know you will, you're tough.
A lot tougher than me… it'll only be for a bit, red, but I need to see if I can find
a way to keep us alive a bit longer.
Maybe even get us out of here.
If I can contain enough field, I can…
I can maybe even get us out.
No, no I'm not sure, but I need to find out.
Red, we're talking about possibly escaping, okay?
Yeah, it's a gap.
A gap should have an end, like a… like the walls of a canyon, understand?
I need to find a wall, and then, and then I can…
I'm sorry, red, I hope we're still friends when I come back.
… I'm…
I'm going now…
I'll see you soon."
The control panel didn't record anything for nearly four full months, when suddenly Robert
returned, far less hopeful than when he left.
He says that this place is hell, and it goes on forever.
He travelled in a single direction for two months before turning around.
He then wonders if he let himself fall down long enough, would he eventually hit a bottom.
More than four months go by before Robert returns again, saying there is no bottom either.
This is the point where Robert's mental state really begins to deteriorate, as he asks Red
if he's ever been married, or had kids, begging red to talk to him.
He suddenly realizes that his picture of Anna is fading due to the Hume levels, and he panics,
begging Anna not to go, and asking red to go get help.
Robert loses coherency at this point, as months go by with him only sobbing, screaming, and
mumbling.
It has now been roughly two years and nine months since Robert entered scp-3001.
Robert finally manages to return and make another recording, although his voice is now
distorted due to both his own and the control panel's Hume levels dropping.
He says that he can't feel his legs anymore, and he's not even sure if he's real anymore,
but he knows he doesn't want to die yet.
He says he went in a straight diagonal line for six months, and fell down for eight months,
but still found no end.
He tells red that he and Anna were planning to name their kid Lucy.
His hand begins to break apart, resembling a spider-web, but he still retains his knowledge
of science, continuing to do calculations on 3001.
Unfortunately, his body is beginning to seriously disintegrate, as he claims his hands are moving
through each other, and he pulls his thumb off.
He says he can go through himself, feeling both warm and cold, and also loses a kidney,
but pleads to let him keep just his heart.
Five years have passed now, with Robert and the control panel still somehow held together,
but finally the red light begins to fade.
Nine months go by, and red seems to make a return.
Robert attempted to kill himself over 220 times, but none of them worked.
He can't see his body due to the darkness, but speculates that he at least has one foot
left, a few leg muscles, maybe a lung, and a heart.
He claims that this non-dimension is now getting smaller, as there now seems to be a visible
border that is getting brighter.
The light from this border allows Robert to see himself, and he says there's so much gone,
although the control panel seems to be far more solid than him.
Robert claims that touching the panel hurts like hell, but he's surprisingly lucid now.
He comes to a realization about the collapsing border, which is acting more like waves, and
also begins to understand what we already know about 3001 being a non-dimension between
two realities, saying that it's a dead end.
Robert says these waves are from a parallel reality, and they're pushing on him and red,
gradually creating a new wormhole.
The only problem is, he's not sure what will happen when that wormhole is created.
Robert's body continues to break down as blood leaks from him and he finds himself constantly
vomiting, despite not having eaten anything for years, nor having a stomach to hold anything.
He says that he's not ready to go back yet, as he's pretty much a floating pile of organs
kept functional by 3001.
He has to stay away from the waves to prevent him from going through a wormhole and dying,
but unfortunately, the control panel will eventually go through.
Robert says that he has five more years in 3001 during which he will slowly restabalize,
giving him five years to figure out how to get out, but he'll have to stay in here without
his metal companion.
A humming pulse begins growing louder in the background, and Robert breaks down in hysterics
again, becoming almost incomprehensible as he begs both red and Anna for support, wanting
to hold her hand, and telling her he lost his ring.
Five years, eleven months, and twenty-one days after an incident sent Dr. Robert Scranton
into a non-dimension, the stabilizer control panel thought lost suddenly reappeared in
the testing facility.
Dr. Anna Lang, overseeing the testing, went to investigate the panel, horrified at finding
it covered in blood, bile, viscera, and hair, identifying the hair color as belonging to
Robert.
A hand fell off of the panel, along with a wedding ring, and Anna accessed the first
audio log, hearing her husband's voice for the first time in nearly six years.
She proceeds to faint from shock.
This is where the story of scp-3001 leaves off, ultimately unfinished and leaving Robert's
final fate to your imagination.
According to the author, although much of Robert went back to our reality along with
the control panel, there is still some of him in 3001, and it's quite possible he's
still functional.
Will he find a way to eventually return to reality and reunite with his wife, or will
he slowly go completely insane and disintegrate entirely?
Those aren't the only options, as some tales have shown, but I think it's good a story
like this is left so open to the reader.
The concept of being isolated from all human contact is certainly not a new one in fiction,
but it's rarely taken to this degree.
Not only was Robert left stranded with only a machine to talk to, he was left in near
total darkness, and he had no way of ending his life.
Chances are we've all felt emotions of loneliness and isolation at one point or another, but
at least we're not stuck in the red reality.