The SCP Experience - BANANAZILLA | SCP-2761

Episode Date: September 2, 2024

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-2761 This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2761 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Cyrus S. * * * 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 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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and pressing the little rubber button on the fob to unlock the rest of the car. Because you were making me go to Florida, a whole week, she said, scrunching up her pink bubblegum lip gloss, slathered mouth, and making an awful face at me. What kind of dad does that? People love going to Florida, I said. I walked around the car and opened up the driver seat door.

It's got Disney, Universal, but we aren't going to either of those places. She slid into the passenger seat and pulled the door shut. The first thing she did was kick off her Sharpie-covered canvas shoes and proper her feet up on the hot dashboard. We're going to clean out my dead step-grandmother's old house. She wasn't even your mom. Teenagers could deal some harsh truth sometimes. But in this case, I felt like she was being a little bit unjust.

Sure, Teresa wasn't my mom. But she had been married to my dad for way longer than my mother ever had been. She only picked up and moved down to Florida after he died. And she always sent Christmas cards with $50 bills tucked back. inside. She called every once in a while. In fact, I had talked to her just a few weeks before she died. She seemed fine then. So getting the call that they found her dead in her house, where she had apparently been for days, was a shock. And I hadn't planned on taking Chelsea with me, but her mother wasn't really flexible on the custody agreement. It's your week. Deal with

it. Sure, but if your daughter has nightmares, that's on you, I had sent back. I never received a reply beyond a thumbs-up emoji. That was almost enough to make me go insane. I would just keep Chelsea out of the room where the body had been found. It wouldn't be hard to identify, according to the coroner. There was a big woman-shaped print on the floor from where the rot had seeped through. Apparently, they hadn't been able to chase out the smell either. You know, Chelsea, I tried to put a positive spin on things.

I was always trying that, and it was something. that my ex-wife hated. It won't be all bad. We'll be staying at a hotel, and they'll have a pool. You can go swimming after we turn in for the day. Sure, she snorted. She was already scrolling through her phone, so I was practically dead to her.

And there will probably be snakes and alligators in the pool because, you know, it's Florida. The hotel is probably full of wolf spiders. Wolf spiders? That thought made the back of my neck edge. Nah, maybe cockroaches, though. She didn't think that was funny. I earned myself a glare.

He arrived at my dead stepmother's house after driving seven or eight hours. It was a coral pink, single-wide trailer with bright blue shutters and a blue wooden mermaid hanging from the front door. There was an abundance of crumpled caution tape woven through the overgrown lawn, and it overlapped the battered blue political sign that was bent over and tucked into some bushes. It had rained only a few days ago, but the backyard was still a swamp. Even pulling into the driveway, I could see that the murky water was so high

that only the very tips of grass blades and razor-like weeds were still poking out the top. It was already dusk, so the streetlights were burning bright, shedding little circles of light onto the sidewalk, where more clumps of weeds had busted through the jumbled pavement and choked out the little hunk of white fence that ran to the dented mailbox. I looked over at my daughter and shrugged. She was still halfway in the car, but her door was open, and she was munching on the remnants of a chicken sandwich from our earlier dinner stop.

Well, I said, I am going to take a look inside. Are you coming with me or staying out here? I'll stay out here, she said around a mouthful of chicken. When do we get to check in at the hotel? Soon, I promised her. Just want to get an idea of things, so I know. if we need to pick up anything on our way back in the morning. She waved her hand, and I took that as a dismissal.

The walkway up to the door was mostly covered in grass. The door itself had one of those fancy key-coated locks on it, like realtors put on there. Except, the cops had stuck it on to keep out delinquents and thrill seekers. There were, apparently, tons of people crawling around who liked to see places where bodies had been found. as if the body was still there, or maybe they just like getting a good old-fashioned case of the heibi-jibis. I fissed around in my pocket for the code the department had sent me. I pulled out the folded piece of paper

and checked the back for my nearly indecipherable even to me handwriting. I punched in the numbers and the lock fell open. A key clattered against its lid, and I grabbed it quickly, not wasting any more time in opening the door. The smell was the first thing that hit me. You read about things like death having a sweet odor, but this was really sweet, almost sour. It was like rotten fruit that had been left out on the counter.

The smell made me gag, and I put my hand over my mouth and nose to try and block out the smell. It didn't do much. I walked from room to room, stepping on garbage and around pieces of equipment that had been left behind. by the cleanup crew. The house was dirtier than I remembered, but that would be a later issue. I made a mental list as I checked out all the rooms. Garbage bags, vinyl gloves, bleach,

glass cleaner. I stopped at her bedroom door and rested my head against the knob. It felt disrespectful to just walk in, even though Teresa was dead and would never be waiting on the other side of the door again. I still felt like I was intruding on her privacy. I forced myself to walk in, and the smell hit me even harder than before. It was strongest in the bedroom, and my only guess was because that was where she had been found. I found the light switch and flipped it on. Dim yellow light flooded the room.

There was a definite dark spot on the floor, roughly in the outline of a person, right beside her twin-sized bed, with its beach-themed, covers and pink jersey sheets. The floor looked like it had been clawed apart, and there were dark red drag marks along the wall and across the baseboards. My stomach churned, and I felt like I was going to vomit. No one had mentioned this part to me. If they had, well, I had conveniently banished it from my memory. I racked my brain, trying to revisit every conversation I had held with the Florida

justice system over the past few months. They had ruled her death accidental, but this looked more like a homicide. They said that no one had been present with her in the home, but the more I looked around, the less I started to believe it. She had been delivered to me in an urn. They said her will stated she wanted a closed casket viewing. I stood up and took a few steps back, glancing around the room for any more hints of foul play. I took out my camera and snapped a few photos.

I needed evidence. There were some questions that no one had asked, or there was something that the local police department was covering up. We're going to say, in the phone, all the world can be a guy of the finance. Not a reason to have a gross world in art, to play at a golf, nor be an pro of the crypto.

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Savoy. Ammire. And profite. Via Rae, The Voice We love. I would take my photos somewhere with a competent police department if I had to. A terrified scream grabbed my attention and my head snapped around. It was a little faint, like it was coming from outside, and it sounded like Chelsea.

I almost dropped my phone as I ran through the single wide, slamming my hand against the walls to keep from running into them. I could not seem to get out fast enough. Charles? I all but flew down the front steps. I landed in the front yard and, lost my footing sliding on the mud. I fell back, arms flailing, and hit my head against the bottom step. I groaned and put my hand against the back of my head as I sat back up,

scrambling to my feet as Chelsea screamed again. Get off me! She screamed. Get off me, you ugly piece of shit! There was an animalistic grunt, and then a snapping of jaws. I was still low enough that I could see under the car, and I spotted what looked like two alligator claws. Alligators are a mud green or brown color that makes them impossible to see in the dark.

But this one was bright yellow. I wasn't sure why there were only two claws. Chal's! Chal's, I'm coming! I managed to get to my feet and hobbled across the wet yard, still slipping in the grass and the mud as I ran to get my daughter. Chelsea screamed again and there was a thump like she had hit the ground. Those yellow claws flashed out of my vision, and then I saw her getting dragged around the side of the car. screaming so hard that her face was turning purple

while her long brown hair was pulled through the mud. The rotting banana smell was back again. I choked on it as I chased her. Chal's! Chal's! I have my phone. I'm calling 911. I tried to reach out and grab her hands. They were reaching for me, flailing,

and she had tears streaming down her cheeks. Dad! She called out. It hurts! It hurts! It's got me! Help me! Grab my hands! but I was reaching out to her with both. I was trying to dial 911 at the same time.

I had no idea what I was doing. I tried to get a good look at the alligator that was dragging her, but all I saw was yellow. It looked like it was only using two legs still. It was like no alligator I had ever seen. It dragged her all the way to the backyard where the water had risen so high that the whole thing looked like a swamp.

The creature paused at the edge, and I managed to get a good look at it. It had a lot of alligator traits, like the slit eyes and the reptilian tail. But instead of a long snout and snapping jaws, it had a snub nose and a wide mouth of razor-sharp teeth, like a bull shark. Surrounding its face was a frill or hood of webbed skin that looked like petals. It had a few brown spots on its back and on its legs, adding to the rotting banana look. It was only at the edge of the yard for a few seconds before it was gone. I watched its tail slither and disappear, and with it went Chelsea.

The last thing I saw was her wide, terrified eyes, and her mouth falling open for another scream. Water filled her mouth before she could let out another sound, and she sank beneath the water until even her fingertips disappeared. My hands were shaking. I finally managed to hit the call button on my phone, but my skin was sweaty, and I was just smearing oil all over the screen. Tears blurred my vision, and I tried to dash them away to see clearly enough to dial the stupid numbers. I was still pausing every couple seconds to stare at the surface of the water, wondering how deep it went. I thought about diving in after her, but there was no way, no way in hell. I wouldn't be able to see in that murky abyss anyway.

And it wouldn't do either of us any good if we were both eaten, if we both disappeared without a trace. The phone rang, and it pressed it against my ear, waiting. Still crying and shaking uncontrollably. 911, what is your emergency? It's my daughter. I felt like I was screaming into the phone. She's gone! She got taken by a fucking alligator or something.

She needs help. Sir, just calm down. I need you to stay with me. What did you say happened to your daughter? Before I could find the words for a more rational explanation, another call beeped through. I glanced at the screen and there was Chelsea's name. My heart raced.

Maybe she was back on the surface and she was stranded somewhere. I had to help her. I will. I will call you back, I said. Sir. The 911 operator said. Are you saying that you do not want me to send police or an ambulance at this time? I don't know, I said. I'm sorry.

I switched calls immediately. At first, all I could hear on the other end was heavy breathing and what sounded like running water. My heart dropped down to my stomach. Chelsea? I tried to get her attention. Chels? Did you call me? Chels, baby, can you hear me? There was nothing.

I waited a few more strenuous seconds. Time was so precious, but I wanted to give her every chance to respond, to tell me where she was, if that was what she was trying to do. Daddy? Her voice finally came from the other end. I almost threw up with relief.

Oh my God. I clutched the phone close. Chelsea, I'm right here. Tell me where you are, honey. Or just stay on the line. I'll use your location to find you. Daddy! She sounded like she was sobbing. I'm coming, honey. I told her. I'm coming. Just stay there. Keep talking. I clutched my phone so hard I heard the case creak. It was torture to pull the device away from my ear long enough to look at the GPS and try to find her using her location. I ended up putting her on speakerphone for the sake of hearing her voice and keeping her on the line.

The speakerphone emphasized these awful, tearing and gnawing sounds that were coming from the other end. It was like listening to a dog go in on a raw steak. She wasn't screaming anymore, but occasionally she would whimper. The GPS signal was shit. I started sprinting towards the road, hoping I would get a better signal there. I'm right here, honey, I said. Keep talking. I'm listening. Don't hang up.

I'll find you and call 911. I'm so cold. She said. I'm so cold and I'm so wet. I know. Shit. I know. I held up my phone.

Those noises were getting worse. Ripping. Crunching. Snapping. Gulping. My hands were still shaking. Shit. I dropped my phone.

It hit the pavement face down and I fell to my knees to pick it up. I turned the phone around and thankfully the call was still going. Across the bright white screen was a spider web of cracks and a few raised pieces of broken glass. I wasn't going to be able to use the phone anymore without shredding my fingers, and I couldn't see the GPS anymore. It's okay, Daddy. Her voice came again, sad, and resigned. It doesn't hurt anymore. Panic was setting in.

Stop that. I said. Stop that. Stop that. Stop that. I am calling 911. I tried to end the call, but the cracks across the button wouldn't let me. I tried to activate my voice commands, but nothing happened.

I just stood there in the middle of the middle of the phone. the street, shouting at my phone like an idiot while my voice was being drowned out by chewing noises of some beast eating my daughter. I love you, she said. I could barely hear her voice. She was silent after that. There was glass embedded in my index finger and blood smeared all over my screen. I gave up.

I sat down in the middle of the street and rested my forehead against my knees. I let out a horrible inhuman scream. It took me forever to stop screaming. My voice eventually was too hoarse to make much sound. My phone was still on a bright white screen. I could see the call minutes ticking by, but I couldn't hear anything anymore, not even the sounds of chewing.

Desperately, I tried one more time. I hit the corner of the screen with my thumb, and the call went away. I choked and pulled up the dial pad and hit 9-1-1. 911, what is your emergency? My voice was too raspy. Hello? The short little white sliver of fence shivered beside me,

and the mailbox rocked on its stand. Hello? Nothing snap. And all I could smell was rotten bananas. SCP 2761 is a genetic hybrid species that has undergone multiple physical mutations since its containment in 2005. It initially possessed amphibious and bison traits,

similar to those of species found within the Florida Everglades, where it was originally discovered, but as since developed, reptilian features. As of May 13, 2016, SCP 2761 measures 12 meters in length and resembles a large hunchbacked bipedal alligator with a mouth structure similar to that of Carcahineus Lucas Bullshark. SCP 2761 possesses a notably yellow-skin coloration, a peddled, flexible frill that can conceal and protect its face, and constantly exudes a scent described as smelling like overripe bananas. Additionally, SCP 2761 possesses biohazardous blood,

at least 32 known genetic carcinogens and dozens of known hazardous bacteria strains, including claustridium titani, ecoli, and streptococcus are present. It appears its gut flora also constantly produces even more of the former. However, instead of causing SCP-2761 harm, it appears these compounds and bacteria are beneficial for it, inciting even further mutations over time. Strangely, despite all the mutations, SCP-2761 has undergone,

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