Date: [REDACTED]
Location: Abandoned Theater, [REDACTED], France
Summary: Following numerous unexplained incidents at an abandoned theater, including reports of missing locals and "living puppets," the Foundation was alerted. Task Force Sigma-9 ("The Soul Catchers") was assigned to locate and secure SCP-XXXX.
Notes from Field Commander Agent Ruiz:
It was the middle of the night when we reached the theater. The building was dilapidated, but the atmosphere was what truly unsettled us. Everything was silent, as if the building itself were holding its breath. Our team was fully prepared, equipped with flash grenades, shock nets, and specialized containment gear for capturing anomalous entities. The air felt heavy, and I could sense the tense unease spreading through the team.
The moment we passed the foyer, we saw them: dozens, maybe hundreds of puppets standing motionless in the darkness. Some were seated in the old theater seats, others stood in the aisles. Each face was frozen in horror, and it was clear these puppets had once been human.
First Contact:
As we approached the stage, I noticed movement. SCP-XXXX stood at the edge of the stage, its face pale and smooth like porcelain, with eyes so dark they seemed to be holes into nothingness. It turned its head in our direction, and although it showed almost no expression, its presence was overwhelming.
"Welcome, my guests," it whispered in a voice that felt like a faint breeze.
Behavioral Protocol:
SCP-XXXX moved like a puppeteer, as though invisible strings were controlling its joints. We knew it was dangerous to get too close, as reports indicated it could paralyze and turn its victims into puppets with a single touch. We kept our distance, positioning ourselves in a semicircle as planned.
I gave the signal, and one team member threw the first flash grenade. The intense light flooded the room, and SCP-XXXX recoiled as it was hit by the burst of light. It was clear that it was sensitive to light—a weakness we had to exploit. It tried to regroup, and for a moment, it seemed to be watching us, as if searching for a weakness in our formation.
Capture:
With precise movements, we threw a net made of special coated wire over SCP-XXXX. It struggled and thrashed, its metallic fingers scraping across the floor, but the net's coating seemed to weaken it. Its movements slowed, as though it was gradually freezing in place. We then began delivering short, controlled electric shocks—enough to further immobilize it without damaging the entity.
Once SCP-XXXX was finally ensnared and unable to move, we heard a faint whisper.
"The silence... will come."
The words echoed in my mind, and I wasn't sure whether it was cursing us or warning us. But it didn't matter. SCP-XXXX was captured, and the mission was a success.
Aftermath:
SCP-XXXX was secured in a specially designed containment crate and transported to the Foundation facility. Since its containment, it has attempted to communicate with personnel several times, although its face and body remain expressionless. All interactions are carefully documented, but for now, the threat appears neutralized.
The theater remains closed, with the Foundation cordoning off the building under a "collapse hazard" cover story. The puppets we left behind remain there, a silent monument to the victims of the Puppeteer.
End of Report