The SCP Experience - A Deadly New Species | SCP-075

Episode Date: January 1, 2024

Want to listen ad-free? Try it FREE for 7 days here: patreon.com/TheSCPExperience SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-075: A Deadly New Species This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-075 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com New Book Releases: https://www.amazon.com/Matthew-G-Doggett/e/B08FD5378Z DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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we love that we love. The rainforest was alive with the night sounds of crickets and birds and the

constant rustling sound of leaves high overhead in the forest canopy. I carried a machete in my right hand.

The beam of light from my headlamp bounced ahead of me as I moved through the rainforest. Doug? The only answer was some small animals scurrying through the underbrush away from me. I continued on, my anger at this man growing with each step, despite my declining energy. As I rounded a large tree, I spotted Doug ahead, half hidden by vegetation. He had his back to me and was on his knees, facing a tree. What the hell is he doing? I thought, keeping my headlamp on him as I stopped walking. It looked as though he was leaning face first against the tree.

Maybe he's crying, I thought. Or... Doug? I called. You okay? He didn't answer. He didn't even move. Come on, man, I said, moving toward him again. Let's talk this through. No need to be juvenile about it. Still nothing.

As I closed the distance, a creeping feeling made its way through my body, spreading out from my gut. Something was wrong. Doug? I asked. Now close enough to reach out and touch him. He was leaning his face against the tree trunk, as though he'd fall into his knees and then smacked into the trunk. I reached out and gripped his shoulder. He was warm.

That was a good sign. I pulled his shoulder back, turning. him to look at me. When I saw his face, a ragged scream escaped my throat. I'm starting to regret coming on this little excursion, I said to Hugo as we marched through the rainforest. The younger man looked at me through the mosquito net draped over his hat. Why? he asked, clearly appalled. I didn't think it would be so hot and humid in the Amazon rainforest, I said, keeping a straight face. I mean, this is ridiculous. Oh, Hugo said, looking down at his feet.

Yeah, I guess so. I elbowed him. Dude, I'm kidding. Hugo looked up at me again, his face breaking into a smile. He chuckled and said, good one. Geez, tough crowd, I thought. I was trying to get to know the group a little better, and the best way I knew how to do that was by joking around.

It helped break the monotony of the hike anyway. But I had a bad habit of telling jokes. at the worst times. Sometimes, I just couldn't help myself. There were five of us, hiking in a remote part of the Ecuadorian Amazon rainforest. The verdant valley was alive with the sounds of birds and insects. The occasional cry of a monkey reached us, sometimes from far away, sometimes from nearby. The far-off rumble of thunder spoke of approaching rain. There had been talk of a new animal species found out here. Apparently, the indigenous tribe who'd passed the information along described the animal as extremely dangerous and fast, so fast, in fact, that they hadn't got a

good look at the thing. They just knew it wasn't anything they'd ever encountered before, and that was saying something, considering how long those people had been living in the rainforest. I slowed my pace, mosquitoes buzzing against the net covering my head. I felt pretty good, considering the weight of my pack and the near 80% humidity. But I didn't like to walk in silence. I needed conversation. So I let young Hugo, the intern, walk ahead. Following our guide, an Ecuadorian named Adelmo. I fell in beside Tori, a biologist and the only woman in the group. She was British, her short dark hair, hidden under her wide-brimmed hat and mosquito net. She looked at me with

me warily, apparently not in the mood for a chat. I persisted anyway. Have you been to the Amazon before? I asked, thinking a joke wouldn't work on this uptight woman. Oh yes, she said an eclipped British accent. Many times. Ever found a new species? She shook her head, mosquito net swang. No, Tori said. Hopefully, I will this time. I nodded. That would be something. If we all make it out alive, of course. Tori glared at me. Stupid, I thought. Sometimes, I just couldn't help myself.

Totally kidding, I said. Just thinking about how the indigenous people said it was dangerous and fast. Tori waved a dismissive hand. They're superstitious, she said. I'm sure it's not all they make it out to be. It could even be a ploy to keep the cattle ranchers from clearing even more of the trees. If there's a new species out there,

maybe even the Ecuadorian government will think twice about letting more deforestation happen. I shrugged. Well, maybe it's not such a bad thing. I mean, if they are lying about it, it's not such a bad thing, Tori said. But if we don't find anything,

it won't help protect the forest. I'd bet on that. Fair point. I said, Excuse me! Came a voice from behind me as the last man in the group elbowed me in the ribs

as he tried to get by. I stumbled off trail and smacked into a parkea multi-huga tree. Doug, the zoologist who'd elbowed me, hurried ahead without looking back. I got back on the trail and had to stop myself from saying something. The last thing we needed

was a fight out here in the middle of nowhere, so I kept my cool. But it took some energy. Tori, however, didn't seem to have a problem speaking out. Asshole! She said loud enough for Doug to hear. Doug stiffened for a moment,

but kept up the hustle, even though he'd been dragging ass all day. The hell was that about? I asked, rubbing my ribs where he'd hit me. Tori rolled her eyes. He's got a thing for me. Gets upset whenever another man talks to me. It's the most childish thing I've ever seen.

He's a piece of word. work. Were you too involved? No way. He wishes. But you have a history, I said. A history of him somehow getting on the expeditions I go on, Tori explained. I've told him in no uncertain terms that I'm not interested. He doesn't take the hint. Great, I thought. Drama in the Amazon. Just what we need. It's never too early to plan your summer story in Europe with WestJet From rolling countryside to cobblestone streets Begin your next chapter Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent

WestJet where your story takes off The rest of the day was more of the same Hiking with occasional breaks to eat snacks and drink plenty of water I took pictures of some wildlife which was the entire reason I was on the trip I worked for a wildlife magazine and website, and I was hoping to get some pictures of this new species, if it existed. But there was plenty of other wildlife to photograph in the Amazon. From birds and primates to reptiles and insects, the place was full of life. I was sure I'd captured more than a few pictures the website could use by the time we set up camp for the night.

It was the dry season, but we were still drenched by the time we got camp's summer. set up, mostly from sweat since we'd all been wearing rain jackets all day. The last rays of sunshine abandoned us, just as we finished setting up our hammocks and got ready for dinner. We're about two kilometers from where the tribes had they spotted the animals, Adelmos said, as we ate our dinner around battery-powered lanterns. We will use this as our base camp. Tomorrow we will try to find the animals.

We all nodded or murmured assent. Doug stared at Tori from across the way as we sat around. He was a genuine creep, giving me the hebi-jeebies. And he wasn't even looking at me. I couldn't imagine how Tori felt. Unable to help myself, I started talking to Tori again, well aware of how agitated it was making Doug. My ego was a little bruised from when he elbowed me,

although that bruise wasn't as bad as the one forming on my ribs. I knew I was poking the bear, but Doug wasn't exactly intimidating. He was a short guy with the kind of body some people call skinny fat. The combination of his gaunt face, skinny limbs, and considerable belly gave him an odd look. He reminded me of a spoiled child. And like a spoiled child, he stormed off after Tori and I had been talking for about five minutes. I wasn't hitting on Tori or anything.

I had no interest in her. Not in that way. I was just making friendly conversation, but Doug couldn't take it. It was ridiculous. The rest of us let him stalk into the jungle, watching the beam of light from his headlamp grow farther and farther away. Don't go too far! Adelma called after him.

Doug didn't answer. By the time we had all our stuff tied up off the ground and were ready to get into our hammocks, Doug still wasn't back. Feeling responsible for pissing him off, I decided to go out and find him. I wanted to clear the air and see if I could get him to stop being such a baby. Tori, who was already in her hammock, gazed out at me through her bug net. Just leave him out there, she said. He'll come back when he's ready.

I at least need to go look around, I said, if for no other reason than to ease my conscience. Tori shrugged. Suit yourself. Just be careful. Want me to go with you? Adelmo asked. That's okay. I'm not going to go far. Take this, Adelmo said, stepping over and handing me a machete.

For the brush. Okay, I said, taking the tool as I clicked my headlamp on. Thanks. The rainforest was alive with the night sounds of crickets and birds, and the constant rustling sound of leaves high overhead in the forest canopy. So as I moved out from the camp, heading in the direction Doug had gone, I was relaxed and loose. This, and the fact that I was tired from the day's hike, made me less alert than I should have been. After all, the Amazon has its share of dangerous animals and insects.

Knowing that Doug didn't have a machete on him, I took the path of least resistance. Pretty soon, I could no longer see the lights of the camp. Doug? I called. The only answer was some small animal scurrying through the underbrush away from me. I continued on, my anger at this man growing with each step, despite my declining energy. As I rounded a large tree, I spotted dug ahead, half hidden by vegetation. He had his back to me and was on his knees, facing a tree.

What the hell is he doing? I thought, keeping my headlamp on him as I stopped walking. It looked as though he was leaning face first. against the tree. Maybe he's crying, I thought. Or praying? Doug? I called. You okay?

He didn't answer. He didn't even move. Come on, man, I said, moving toward him again. Let's talk this through. No need to be juvenile about it. Still nothing. As I closed the distance, a creeping feeling made its way through my body, spreading out from my gut.

Something was wrong. Doug? I asked. Now close enough to reach out and touch him. He was leaning his face against the tree trunk, as though he'd fall into his knees and then smacked into the trunk. I reached out and gripped his shoulder.

He was warm. That was a good sign. I pulled his shoulder back, turning him to look at me. But when I saw his face, or his lack of a face, I screamed and jumped back, There was a bloody hole where his face had been, the sides of the hole faintly bubbling like heated wax.

Inside was nothing but a cavernous hole. No brain or bone. Nothing but empty skull. His headlamp was still affixed to his forehead, just above the gory hole. The light was still on. Doug's body toppled over, landing on its back. I stared at the body as I backed away. A hurricane of fear building steam inside of me.

The light from Doug's headlamp shined up at the tree he'd been leaning against. That was the only reason I saw the movement. It was a flash of something about the size of a softball, although not perfectly round and certainly not white. Whatever it was leaped off the tree, heading straight for me. I whipped the machete up on instinct, knocking the thing aside with a metallic thunk. It landed on the ground a yard away from Doug's body.

I looked at it. My headlamp, illuminating the thing struggling to write itself on the wall. the forest floor. It was a giant snail, about eight inches long, five inches wide, and six inches tall. But unlike a regular snail, I could see no head. Instead, the slimy, rough-textured brown creature sticking out of the pale shell resembled a hand with six stubby fingers. Each finger ended in a yellow claw about an inch long. These fingers worked to get the thing upright again. When it was, it launched itself at me. I ducked, and the thing flew over me.

But as it did, something dripped onto my arm. A moment later, that little spot of my arm started to burn. Overwhelmed, I bolted toward camp, running as fast as I could. Glancing down at my arm, I saw a hole about the size of a dime in my skin. Whatever had landed on me was melting through my flesh. Help! I screamed as I approached camp. Help!

Dung's dead! Hugo was out of his hammock, a toothbrush in hand. The young intern froze as he saw me coming. Both Tori and Adelmo were unzipping their mosquito nets and pulling on their boots. I stopped in the middle of camp next to Hugo and raised the machete, looking back the way I'd come. Doug's dead? Hugo asked. How?

I didn't answer. I just scanned the brush for signs of the snail. There was rustling from overhead. Hugo and I looked up. It's here. I said, although I couldn't see it. We need to run. What is it?

Hugo asked, still looking up. Get away from that tree, and get your water. We need to move now. I knew it would be a dangerous hike back without water, so I hurried over to my hammock and grabbed my camelback sitting nearby. Both Adelmo and Tori started bombarding me with questions I didn't have time to answer.

When I turned around to see that Hugo was still staring up at the canopy, I caught a flash of movement in my headlamp. Move! I shouted at Hugo. It was too late. The snail landed on the young man's face, those claws sticking into his skin as his flesh began to melt. He dropped his toothbrush and tried to scream, but the noise was muffled by the creature.

Tori screamed. I shouted, Adelmo cursed in Spanish. Hugo hit the ground, writhing, his hands trying to pry the snail off his melting face. Adelmo jumped toward me and ripped the machete out of my hand. He moved over to Hugo and the creature, raising the weapon. It was clear Hugo was not going to survive, but Adelmo had the right idea. Kill the creature. He swung the machete down, cracking the creature's shell with the first hit.

The creature made no sound, but it attempted to leap away. Before it could, Adelmo hit it again, this time slicing into the flesh underneath the shell. Liquid, maybe blood, maybe slime, splashed up into Adelmo's face. immediately began screaming and he dropped the machetes he turned to me for help. Some of the liquid had splashed into his left eye, which was melting away like heated gelatin. Other small holes were sinking into his face as the stuff melted through. I didn't know what to do.

I grabbed my camel back, opened it, and tossed the water into his face. It didn't help. In fact, it made the caustic liquid melt even faster. Soon, Adelmo fell to the ground and went silent. Tori had stopped screaming moments earlier. We looked at the two men, both of them clearly dead. The snail sat next to Hugo's ruined face, unmoving. Liquid coming out of its body was sizzling through the dirt and dead leaves on the ground.

Rustling from overhead caught our attention. Tori and I both looked up, then at each other. Then we bolted away from the campsite, running down the trail we'd traversed earlier that day. We ran for a long time until we couldn't run any more. more than we walked fast through the dark rainforest. When it seemed like we were safe, we slowed down and walked side by side. Look on the bright side, I said, breaking the silence. It's definitely a new species.

At least we'll keep this part of the rainforest from being destroyed. Tori glared at me, her headlamp shining in my eyes. So it was a bad joke. Sometimes I just couldn't help myself. SCP 75 appears to be a large snail with a muscular foot resembling a six-fingered, clawed hand. Desiccation is the only known means of containing SCP-75, as it will enter a dormant state when nearly completely dry. When not desiccated, SCP 75 moves at incredible speeds for its size and mass.

It adopts the behavior of a predator, jumping at and drenching its prey in a highly caustic base solution secreted from pores on its foot. These secretions are more corrosive than any substance known to terrestrial science. Due to SCP-75's aggressive behavior when active, the compound cannot be harvested. No material completely resistant to its corrosive power has been found.