The SCP Experience - A Prom to Remember | SCP-8097

Episode Date: July 25, 2025

On prom night at Hunter’s Creek High, as synth-pop echoes through the gym, a bullied outcast slips into the shadows—leaving behind a trail of blood, a shattered skylight, and one girl who refuses to die quietly. This story was derived from ⁠⁠https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-8097 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. ⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/⁠⁠   * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 17. Listener discretion is advised.  #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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$0. Veillet jewell to be responsible. The conditions apply. 7 p.m. The gymnasium began to fill up quickly as the opening notes of Cindy Loppers girls just want to have fun reverberated through the space. The teens of Hunter's Creek High

had gone all out for the occasion. The girls wearing bright, frilly dresses with classic 80s makeup to fit the theme and boys in pattern ties and awkward fitting suits. The air was filled with the anticipation of the biggest night of the year. Chaperones kept an eye on the punch bowl, but they didn't notice the flasks snaking their way through the dance floor. The night was promising, especially for Gregory Arnelson.

The scene seemed to shift as he walked through the crowd. Girls elbowed each other and unsuccessfully hid their snickers behind their hands. Why is he here? I'm surprised he bothered to show up without a date. Oh, look, he's even wearing a boot in ear. How pathetic. Greg ignored the jibes, just like he always did, but he couldn't resist sending a smirk their way. He made eye contact with the ringleader, a girl in a bright pink dress, and she startled as if burned. With horrified looks, the girls turned their backs on him. His smile grew. It was going to be a wonderful night indeed. Luck had been with Greg all day so far, and it seemed to be with him now

as he watched the girl in the pink dress disentangle herself from her friends and walked down the hall. 709 p.m. The restroom door shut with a click, and Wendy glanced up to see a pair of men's feet outside her stall. Her face bloomed with embarrassment as she flushed the toilet. She forced to laugh. It's a little early, isn't it, Rick? But as Wendy opened the stall, she wasn't met with the mischievous gaze of her boyfriend, she jumped back in surprise, nearly landing in the toilet. Greg? What the hell are you doing in here?

His cold gray eyes bore into hers, and for a moment she was paralyzed with fear. Then his lips quirked into a smile, and she forced her way past him to the sink. But when she glanced up, he was still staring at her with that odd expression. He moved quicker than she thought possible, and suddenly, his hands were.

were on either side of her, blocking her in. She gasped and turned to find his face mere inches from hers. His breath stank of stale beer as he leaned even closer. Don't pretend you don't want this, Wendy. Fuck off, Greg, I mean it. She hated the wobble in her voice, and she hated how Greg's eyes lit up when he heard it, too. He don't sound like you mean it. Greg, I'm serious. Let me go. She forced herself to stand upright, even though it brought her nearer to him. Her heels gave her three inches of added height, and they were now eye to eye. For some reason, that thought gave her courage. Greg ran his hand up and down her arm, and her flesh responded by erupting into goosebumps, he whispered.

Bile rose in Wendy's throat. Greg, let me go, or I'll scream! He simply laughed, his hot breath crawling all over her face. She inhaled, her chest rising with the effort, but before she could open her mouth, his hands were on her throat. I've been waiting to do this for a long time, Wendy. She choked on his name as she tried to plead for mercy, but that only made him squeeze tighter. His eyes were alive in a way she'd never seen them before.

She clotted his hands and arms, but his thick suit jacket prevented her from doing any damage. You and those ninnies think you're so great, don't you? Well, now you're going to learn. You are nothing. He squeezed tighter, and Wendy's ears filled with ringing. She couldn't hear him anymore. She could only see his mouth forming the word.

Nothing. In a last desperate attempt, she brought her nails to his face. Blood spattered both of them as she dug her fingers into his flesh. But he didn't even seem to feel it. Greg's mouth opened and laughed her that Wendy couldn't hear as her vision began to blacken around the edges. Her limbs fell to her sides, and she was distantly aware of being chucked to the ground

before nothingness claimed her. Greg locked the door to the women's bathroom before exiting. When he re-entered the gymnasium, not even a scratch marred his face. He stopped by the buffet table, having built up quite an appetite. He stuffed a meatball into his mouth, just as a finger tapped his shoulder. He turned to face two members of the football team, including Wendy's boyfriend, Rick. He faked a cough to cover up his smile. The night couldn't be going better.

Where'd you get the flower loser? Your mommy buy it for you? No, I bought it myself, actually. I thought it would match Wendy's dress. Where is she, by the way? Rick's face darkened. What's it to you? She said she'd save me a dance. The boys laughed and shared a look. And that's not all she said she would do.

Greg stepped closer to Rick, so his friend couldn't hear him as he detailed exactly what Wendy was supposedly going to do to him. Rick's face turned red, and he shoved Greg away from him. You're so full of shit? If you say so, Greg said as he turned away. 7.43 p.m. Rick knew that Greg was lying, but he couldn't stop himself from following him into the hallway. He'd lost track of Wendy, and he and Carter were getting bored. It was time for some fun.

Hey, dumbass! Rick called out. Greg stilled, his shoulders tensing in fear. Rick shot Carter a confident smile. This was going to be too easy. I think it's about time I teach you a lesson. Greg turned, and Rick's smile faltered. It wasn't fear on his face, but something else. Anticipation, maybe?

But that didn't make sense. Everybody knew Rick could bumble someone like Greg in his sleep. He cracked his knuckles and stopped a foot away. He half expected Greg to make a run for it, but he remained exactly where he was. He merely cocked an eyebrow. Is that so? Rick glanced at Carter, who had hesitated a few feet behind him.

Something clearly felt off. But Rick wasn't about to back down now. Yeah, I don't think your daddy's beatings left enough of an impact. Greg's eyes flashed, and before Rick knew what was happening, a loud slam echoed through the hall. The pain took a second to register. He noticed the blood in the locker before he felt the wound on his head. Oh shit. Carter muttered behind him.

You bastard! Rick yelled out, but Greg still didn't appear threatened. He copped his head as if intrigued to see what Rick would do next. He lunged towards Greg, but the boy was quick and strong. He had Rick pinned against the inside of the locker, and no matter how much he struggled, there wasn't an ounce of give against the hands holding him there. He desperately scanned the metal container, but it was empty.

Another bang sounded, and this time, the pain was immediate. There was nothing Rick could do as Greg pounded the door against his skull again and again and again. As Rick's body slumped to the floor, Carter turned and ran down the hall, but he wasn't about to get away that easily. Greg was on him in an instant. No, Greg, please! He begged for mercy, just like Greg had, when the football team strung him up on the flagpole.

But that was then. This was now. And Greg would show the sick. amount of mercy they did. None. 8.35 p.m. Carly stifled her giggle, as Eric half led, half carried her into the women's locker room. Her head was swimming from the booze and Eric's touch. She hardly noticed when one of her shoes fell off outside the door. Eric's hands were all over her, and she reveled in his desire. She'd picked out this red dress just for him, knowing it would make him crazy. He moaned into her neck as he shoved her against the wall, his fingers reaching for the lace-up corset on her back. For a moment, she was worried he would rip the dress,

but then his mouth found hers, and she no longer cared if he did. Hey! She jumped away from Eric at the sound of the voice, and turned to find Greg staring at them, her shoe dangling from his right hand. Greg? Eric straightened, a scowl, darkening his face. What the hell do you want? We're kind of. I'm kind of busy here. Greg shrugged, his eyes skimming over their disheveled state. I'm here for an apology. Carly laughed in spite of herself. An apology for what? Greg's eyes narrowed, and he took a step closer.

You know for what, Carly, you fucking whore. Carly gasped and shot a desperate look at Eric. Are you going to let him talk to me like that? Of course he is. Greg answered for him. He's a fucking coward. Eric blinked as if suddenly come. coming out of a trance. What did you just call me? You heard me. Greg's voice was low and deep. Carly would have been frightened if she didn't know better.

But Greg was such a weakling, but even she could take him on in a fight. Eric lunged at him, and Carly stepped away as they crashed into the mirror before tumbling to the floor. Broken glass scattered above them, and Greg shoved Eric's face into it. Carly watched in horror as Eric's bloodstained the white tile. She was rooted to the spot. to the spot, fear, and disgust holding her there. She still didn't move as Greg bashed Eric's head in with the heel of her shoe. It only took a few blows before Eric stopped struggling.

It wasn't until Greg turned his gaze on her that she finally screamed. Greg, please! I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry! Greg smiled. I knew you would be, but it's a little late. Carly raised her hands, but she was unable to defend against the strike to her skull. Her vision darkened and she slumped to the floor.

Eric's blood pooled at her feet and darkened the red of her dress. Greg raised his hand again and she closed her eyes against the final blow. Greg couldn't have been more pleased with himself. He wiped the gory heel onto Carly's dress and deposited it into the trash can outside the locker room. He was too busy reliving the kill to realize that the shoe had fallen out of the garbage. Mrs. Laurie Wilkins was patrolling the hall when she found the shoe. She rolled her eyes and cursed her bad luck at getting stuck as a chaperone for the second year in a row. She didn't grudge the students a bit for the fun they were having,

but they always seemed to take it too far. Last year, she'd been up until 3 a.m., cleaning up the carnage. She could only hope this year wouldn't be so bad. She was tempted to leave the shoe where it was and let the owner find it on her own, but she didn't. Instead, she picked it up and made her way back to the gym. The DJ was startled when she tapped him on the shoulder, and she had to shout to be heard above the music.

Finally, he nodded and turned down the music so she could make an announcement about the shoe. She waited near the DJ for someone to come forward, but it was some time before anyone did. Mrs. Wilkins? She was surprised to see Gregory Arnaldson standing there in a suit complete with the pink boutonier. She knew him by reputation, and from what she heard, he wasn't the type to attend social events.

A chill swept through her at the sight of him, but she couldn't think why. Surely he was just here to have fun like the rest of the students. Yes, Greg? I think I know whose shoe that is. Oh, yeah? He stared at the shoe and pursed his lips. I don't know her name, but I might know where you can find her. Lori sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was hunt all over the over the school for a girl careless enough to lose her shoe. But it was her duty.

Where? I'll show you. He turned and began walking away before she could respond. She had no choice but to follow. While she had been completely comfortable walking the hallways alone, there was something eerie about walking with Greg. She couldn't help the goosebumps that rose on her arms, despite knowing that she was perfectly safe.

There was no reason for Greg to harm her. And even if he did, he was a skinny, gawky teen. He may have been a troublemaker, but he couldn't hurt a fly. Her heels echoed on the tile floor as they passed rows of lockers. She paused suddenly as something caught her eye. There appeared to be something dripping out of one of the lockers, a liquid that looked suspiciously like blood. Probably another stupid senior prank.

Mrs. Wilkins? Gregory was tapping his foot impatiently, and she turned away from the locker. making a mental note to check it out later. I'm coming, I'm coming. They continued down the hallway in silence. The only sound apart from their footsteps was the faint bass from the gymnasium. You know, if you just tell me where you last saw her, I'm sure I can find her on my own.

Lori tried to sound compassionate rather than frightened, but she couldn't shake the strange feeling in her gut. No, no, I'll show you. Greg replied nonchalantly. We're almost there. Laurie sucked in her breath and tried to distill her strange fears. What was she afraid of anyway? It's not like she was in a movie, and there was a crazy prom killer on the loose. She was being absurd, letting her emotions get the best of her like she always did.

Besides, Greg was someone to be pitied, not feared. Everyone knew about the way his parents treated him. It was no wonder the kid was messed up. Greg paused outside a door marked, roof access. I think she's up here. Lori opened her mouth to tell him not to go up, to let her handle it, but he was already sprinting up the stairs.

She shook her head and followed, hoping she wouldn't get in trouble for letting a student on the roof. Although if Greg was right, he wasn't the first one. However, as Laurie ascended the concrete steps, there was no sign of anyone other than Greg. There wasn't even a faint whiff of perfume or trail of footsteps to suggest that, anyone had been there at all.

Are you sure she was up here? Lori's voice wobbled, and she cleared her throat. Greg frowned. Maybe she climbed down? Lori highly doubted that a teenage girl would risk her prom dress by climbing down a roof. But, stranger things had happened. She peered over the edge and looked down at the skylight above the lobby. She squinted, trying to discern shadows in the darkness.

Hello? She called out softly. No answer. The skin on the back of her neck prickled menacingly. But before she could turn around, a firm hand pushed against her back, and she stumbled over the edge with a scream.

The skylight cracked, but didn't break as Mrs. Wilkins landed on it with a thud. Blood trickled from her mouth, and her limbs remained still as Greg looked down at her. He clucked his tongue. That was a shame. He didn't want to kill her,

but she found the shoe. It was only a matter of time before she found Carly and Eric as well. But that couldn't happen yet. Not until Greg was done, 10.8 p.m. Jack Dune already knew it was going to be a long night. He kept his headphones in, and his head down as the mop swished back and forth, obliterating the footprints from the day before.

He was doing his best to avoid the gymnasium until the party was over, but he spotted a few students nonetheless. They ignored him like always and took no notice of the mess they left behind. He had one final hallway to clean before his break. He was so busy daydreaming about the couch and the staff lounge that he almost didn't notice the blood. But the mop swept through it, dragging the stain across the floor. What the?

He finally looked up then and noticed the red liquid trickling out of locker 244 and pooling on the ground below. Jack hesitated, staring at the substance. He'd cleaned up after enough fights to recognize the sight of blood. His heart skipped a beat as he reached for the handle of the locker. Everything in him said not to open it, but he did it anyway. He jumped back as a body fell out. The body had been squished inside,

and his legs remained there while his torso hung against the wall of lockers, his hair resting in the pool of blood. Jack opened his mouth to scream, but what came out was a high-pitched shriek. He took out his headphones and realized, the sound hadn't come from him. It had come from the gymnasium. Greg cursed as the girl bounded onto the stage, screaming and crying about bodies in the locker room.

At first, the crowd thought it was a prank. But those who knew Greg recognized the true terror in her eyes. And those who didn't could clearly see the vomit, staining her white dress and the panic written all over her face. The music stopped, and the students turned to look at each other, wondering if this was some horrible nightmare. For Greg, it was. He couldn't imagine how Gracie had found them,

but now that she had, his plans were ruined. And it was only a matter of time before fingers started pointing his way. As the chaperones gathered the students together with unconvincing assurances of safety, Greg slipped away. 10.25 p.m. Officer Ben Johnson felt a chill run through him as he walked into the lobby of Hunter Creek High.

He never expected to return to this place. and certainly not under these circumstances. His time at the school had not been unpleasant, but it was also nothing to reminisce about. What is that? His partner, Will, pointed upwards at the skylight, where something appeared to be resting on it from outside. Ben squinted, but couldn't make it out.

He was about to move on when the crack expanded. Will? Ben watched in horror as the skylight broke before he could finish his warning. Glass shattered around them, and Will fell to the ground as something. landed on top of him. Ben recognized her at once. Mrs. Wilkins! Will, Will, are you all right? But neither of them responded. Ben pushed the lifeless body of his former teacher off his partner, but he knew immediately that it was not good.

A piece of glass had lodged itself in Will's throat, and he was bleeding out all over the lobby. Ben was hardly aware of his surroundings as someone pushed him aside. He couldn't reconcile the bodies in front of him with the people he knew. This couldn't be happening. It had to be a nightmare. His eyes fixated on the pink-putaneer in Mrs. Wilkins' hand, unable to focus on anything else. Johnson! Ben was pulled from his fear as the chief knelt in front of him, his eyes serious but not uncaring. I need you to pull yourself together, man. We've got a killer on the loose. You know this building. I need you to search the area. Can you do that? Ben nodded mutely. He shook his head to clear it, and slowly got to his feet. I'm on it, sir. He pushed aside

all thoughts of what he had just witnessed and drew his gun as he walked stealthily down the hallways. The sound of a door closing echoed through the space. It could have been any door, but Ben knew exactly which one it was. He had clear memories of the assembly room door creaking just like that. He took a deep breath and steadied his hands as he entered the room. He suddenly felt 17 again as the odor of sweat and sneakers assaulted his nostrils. But he wasn't a teenager attending a pep rally. He was an officer of the law hunting a killer. Ben snaked his way towards the bleachers. Eyes peeled for any sign of movement. There, a flash of white appeared a few feet away. He shot at it, the sound reverberating in his ears. But it wasn't followed by a scream

or sound of pain. He must have missed. A chuckle sounded in the direction he shot, and the hairs on the back of Ben's neck rose. The laughter grew louder as a boy emerged from the bleachers. I'll shoot, Ben cried. The boy glanced at his chest, where a bullet was lodged in his skin. You already did. What the hell? The smile never left the boy's face as he walked towards him. Ben shot off another round and another. Each one hit its target, but the boy never slowed. He gave no indication of being shot at all, aside from the holes in his body. You can't kill me, the boy said calmly. I'm invincible. Ben should have run then. but whether his instincts failed him from lack of training or pure shock,

he stood, rooted to the spot, as the boy pulled out a knife and slashed at his throat. 11.05 p.m. Everything was dark, but not quiet. All around her were sounds of urgent voices and barely contained sobs. She struggled to move, and someone screamed. Then there was the sound of a zipper, and she blinked at the brightness. She was gazing into the face of an astonished paramedic, Gwendolyn? Mrs. Quinn rushed over and clutched her shoulders. Quick, get her out of this, she said. Wendy looked down to find herself in a body bag.

She brought shaking fingers to her throat as the memories came rushing back. It was Greg. Greg tried to kill me. Gregory? Gregory Arnoldson? Wendy nodded urgently as the paramedic helped her out of the body bag. You have to find him! Mrs. Quinn helped her sit back down. It's okay, Wendy. You're okay now. The police are here. I'm sure they're going to get him. Just relax.

But Wendy had no plans to relax. That evil bastard tried to kill her. She would be damned if he was going to get away with it. 11.43 p.m. Greg was at a loss. There was no doubt that police were now covering every exit. He could easily take on one at a time, but not the whole force. His luck had finally run out, unless he somehow managed to take hold of a hostage. At least he'd managed to take others down with him. The police would find the bodies of his parents soon enough. His death toll was greater than he'd planned, but he'd gotten rid of the ones that mattered.

The door to the science lab where he was hiding creaked open, and he held his breath, but it came out in a whoosh as he spotted the bright pink dress. He was on his feet in an instant. Wendy? Hello, Greg. Wendy was sporting an ugly purple-brosepherson. bruise around her neck. But other than that, she seemed fine. How could he have screwed up so bad?

Didn't he make sure she was dead before he left her in that bathroom? Apparently not. But maybe this wasn't such a bad thing. Maybe his luck had returned after all. Here was the hostage he was looking for. Come back for more, Wendy? he taunted. Wendy's voice was hard, and her eyes were nearly black as she responded. I just couldn't get enough. Greg chuckled. He might have failed to kill Wendy once, but he wouldn't a second time. After he used her too as a hostage to escape, she was dead for sure. Wendy smiled as if reading his thoughts. Oh, Greg. Poor, lonely, pathetic Greg.

Greg opened his mouth to respond, but Wendy made a sudden movement, and suddenly Greg was clutching his face in pain. His skin was burning. His flesh was peeling away from his bones. It was pain like he'd never known. He fell to the ground as he screamed, writhing in agony. He was distantly aware of a weight on top of him, followed by a loud crunch as something pounded against his skull. 1147 p.m.

Wendy dusted off her pink dress as she rose. She tossed aside the now bloody fire extinguisher and looked down at the remains of Gregory Arnoldson. Maybe she should have felt bad, but she felt nothing. She traced the bruise along her throat and walked out of the room without looking back. SCP 8097 refers to Gregory Arnelson, a 17-year-old spree killer of Swedish and Russian descent

responsible for between 12 and 15 deaths in the town of Hunter's Creek, Massachusetts, in May of 2012. Prior to his death, Arnotson possessed an unknown quality and quantity of anomalous abilities which aided in his crimes. The only confirmed anomalous ability Arnotson possessed was increased regenerative capabilities, to the point where 20 rounds

from a Hunter's Creek Police Department firearm failed to subdue them.