The SCP Experience - Cain | SCP-073

Episode Date: June 2, 2023

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-073: Cain This podcast is sponsored by BetterHelp. Go to betterhelp.com/scp today to get 10% off your first month! This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-073 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Lucas Click Discover the Author's impressive series of SCP Tales here: https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0BVWJFGV3 Check out more of Mr. Click's work here: newpulptales.com 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

My eyes feel like they're filled with needles as I stare at the screens. I've been up for nearly three days trying to hack through the surprisingly impressive firewalls. The Global Occult Coalition isn't one of the more formidable secret societies in the SCP game. They're no society for liberation, dissemination, and destruction or the Chaos Initiative. With all the superior tech at the Foundation's disposal, I thought hacking into these Harry Potter wannabe's databases would be a piece of cake. It turns out that the GOC baked their cakes with concrete instead of flour. But I finally figured it out.

I patch in my latest malware, enter my latest code string, and wait, smiling in triumph. And immediately get my hopes dashed as a familiar gif pops back up. Ian McKellen yells at me in his gray robes and raises a staff above his head. You shall not pass! Son of a bitch! I exclaim and slam my head. my fists into the padded arms of my chair. Bad enough, these guys think they're going to save the world with magic. But now they have to go and ruin Lord of the Rings for me. Bastards. Is everything

all right, Brian? The slow and methodic voice nearly makes me fall out of my chair. Instead, I turn and see a familiar face. Oh, hey, Kane. He's got a pack of beef jerky in his hands and is slowly chewing. Kane is in his usual shorts and t-shirt combo. which makes the metallic surface of his arms and legs stand out against his dark skin and piercing blue eyes. Even more distracting is the symbol engraved into his forehead, made from the same metal as his arms, legs, and spinal cord. When I first started working at this site, it took me a while to get used to Cain. We're the SCP Foundation, as in secure, contain, and protect.

As such, it felt against our mission statement to give an SCP free work. reign of the facility. But I've grown used to his presence as he drifts around the base throughout the day. He keeps chewing, and I realize it's because I haven't answered his question. Sorry, just been trying to work my way through the GOC's database. There's chatter that they've nabbed an unknown SCP, and the powers that be want to check and see if that's true. Kane finally swallows. Sounds challenging. Yeah, well, I stand for my chair, pausing to stretch my arms and back. Nothing more coffee and no sleep won't fix. Eventually, I hope. I walk away from my workstation into the coffee pot simmering on the nearby table. Taking a mug, I fill it with a

heavy black brew before dumping generous portions of cream and sugar. Caffeine is nice, but sometimes it works better with a sugar high. I take a long drink, relishing the stimulants working throughout my bloodstream when I hear frantic tapping. bouncing over my shoulder, I see Kane in my chair, his metallic fingers racing across the keyboard. Hey, Kane, not cool. I nearly dropped my mug as I rush over to him. I've been working on that for three days, man. You're going to mess up my... My words die in my throat as Kane scoots back from the chair. I blink and my mouth drops open. The taunting GIF is gone. Instead, there's unrestricted access to the GOC's database.

staring in disbelief, I rubbed my eyes as Kane stands for my chair. How'd you do that? Kane shrugs. I've dabbled with computers off and on since their inception. You would have gotten it eventually, but I thought I could be of assistance. Assistance, my ass! You're my freaking hero, man! I pat him on the shoulder and cringe at the feel of the metal beneath my hands. Seriously, thanks.

This might mean I'll get some sleep today. Your... An explosion drowns out the rest of the words and knocks me off my feet. Claxins start blaring as flashing red lights fill the room. The corridors outside my office fill with people before gunfire and screams echo. Something hot runs down the side of my face, but beneath the ringing in my ears, I hear an unfamiliar voice over the PA system. Dissemination and destruction.

There's a cold weight of my arm guiding me across the room. It feels like someone's filled my body. filled my body with helium and I'm only drifting pushed along by some gentle force not my own my head feels both heavy and like it might lift from my shoulders someone sits me down on something comfortable and it takes me a while to recognize the comfort of my chair my vision clears to see Cain's blue eyes peering into mine are you all right Brian before I can answer the PA blairs again and destruction and raise my hands to my pounding head.

Christ! Didn't he already say that? Affirmative, Knauds. I'm not sure why. The LDD Society always had a tendency for dramatics. But then again, I suppose it could also be a form of psychological warfare. I grunt. Whatever the hell it is, it's annoying. That is usually the point of psychological warfare. He has a point, which I struggle to process. My mind is a mound of jello.

Another scream sends a spike through my head and makes my eyes cross. I shake the cobwebs loose enough to see a researcher in the hall torn in half by. A monster. There's no other word for it. It's about the size of a man, but its whole body is a vibrant green. Vines and other plants sprout from its body. While it looks human, its head is more canine shape, with a mouthful of sharpened thorns for teeth.

Its hands are similarly adorned with long claws. My mouth goes dry as more things under the hall. But I pushed through the haze this time to ask a very important question. Kane, did you lock the door? I did not. He gives no reaction as he offers me his hand. Come, I believe you have a concussion. We must get you to the infirmary.

I stare at him. Cain, I don't have any interest in being breakfast for Swamp Things Ugly Cousins. He frowns at me. You haven't read the file on me, have you? What the hell did that matter? Why would I? I'm a hacker. He considers this for a moment and then nods. That is an adequate answer.

Before I can stop him, Kane walks to the door and opens it. I scream as the things barge into the room, trying to dig their makeshift claws and fangs into his metal flesh. Kane remains impassive as they swarm over him. And while I like the guy, I can't help but think about what will happen to me after they finish with him. I stand up to flee, but nearly throw up in the process.

As I try to keep the contents of my stomach in check, the creatures start to twitch. They fall to the ground convulsing as spots of brown rise on their bodies. It spreads until the creatures are all the same deathly brown, their bodies dying and crumbling to dust. I stare at Kane and feel a familiar question form on my lips. How'd you do that? If you are truly curious, you should read my file. After you've received medical attention, of course, he walks out the door. Come along, Brian.

The longer we delay, the longer you're likely to suffer serious complications. The human brain is a fragile thing. I stare after him, and seeing no other choice, follow him. Things are feeling a little less human these days, aren't they? But isn't the whole point of progress to make things more human? That's why, at TD, when we design a product, whether it's an app for making trading easier or monitoring your account for fraud.

We ask one simple question. How does this help people? That's how we're making banking more simple, more seamless, and more intuitive. But most importantly, that's how TD is making banking more human. Welcome to aboard via Rai. Embarked and profite. Embarked and celebrate.

Rigolet. Publié. Savouring, admire and profite. Viaray, the voice that we love. I don't know the facility very well. Most of my time at work is spent at the computer, interpreting data and hacking into systems. Cain, though, is famous.

Almost everyone knows his name, and there's not much he hasn't seen during his free reign of the facility. I follow in his steps, nearly blacking out every few feet. But Cain, Kane is always there, ready to catch me when I'm about to fall, and to take care of the monsters. The floors are painted red with poor researchers caught in the crossfire and security personnel that died, defending the sight. But the creatures in the hallway give Kane no pause. Every single one that lands hands on him ends up dead and shriveled.

Slumping against the wall, I breathe heavily. And this time, I can't hold back to the vomit that's been steadily rising in me with every step. Kane is there again, bracing me against one of his shoulders. I can't walk without him, and he carries me the rest of the way until a familiar voice shouts. You! I scrunch my eyes, blink, and check again. Sure, I'm hallucinating. The man before us isn't dressed like an attacker.

He's in an expensive business suit with polished cufflinks with some weird emblem wrapped around the letter W. What makes him stand out even more is the oozy in his hands. Kane slumps me against the wall. Stay behind me, Brian. Two plant creatures bound out from behind the well-dressed man, completely ignoring him and charging it, Kane. He doesn't wait for them this time. He catches one's neck with both of his metal hands

and twists until a loud crack echoes around us. The other's face is caught between his two metallic hands. Kane slowly squeezes his hands closed until there's a wet pop. Both creatures are browning and crumbling to dust before they hit the ground. The man fumes and aims his gun at Kane. No one will stand between me and my vengeance. Kane shakes his head. You will if you pull the trigger.

My head nearly explodes as the rapid fire blairs from the gun. I shout Kane's name as the bullets pelt his body. There's a long silence as the gun finally clicks empty, and Kane remains standing without a mark. How? The voice is now wet and bubbly. My eyes widen as I see the state of the man. His expensive clothes are riddled with bullet holes.

Blood pours out from his wounds, making his outfit go from black to red in an instant. The man stumbles to the ground, and Kane again offers me a shoulder. Be careful of the blood, Brian. I frowned him. You're just full of surprises, aren't you? No, it's all in my file. That is what I prefer about the foundation over the society. At least you do your research.

SCP 73 appears to be a heavily tanned male of Arabic or Middle Eastern descent in his early 30s, with black hair and blue eyes. Arms, legs, spinal cord and shoulder blades of the subject appear to have been replaced with artificial versions of unknown make and metal. Subject only takes notice of this when it is pointed out, and states that it has no knowledge of how, why, or when these replacements took place, stating it had had them as long as it could remember. There is a symbol engraved into the forehead of the subject,

which appears to be of Sumerian origin. The subject appears distressed when the symbol is mentioned at all, refusing to speak on it. Subject does need to eat and drink on a regular basis, but is strictly carnivorous owing to its effect on plant-based items. SCP-73, who refers to itself as Cain, as generally polite and genial to all who speak to it, though it has been described as being cold and somewhat mechanical in its speech.

It is very helpful and enjoys aiding personnel in their daily actions, whatever they may be. It has highly detailed knowledge of ancient to recent events in history and most commonly spoken languages in the world, including ones that have since died out. Subject has professed to having a photographic memory, remembering word for word all text in an 800-page dictionary that was flicked through in a minute and a half. It is scored above average in all intelligence tests given to it.

SCP-73's presence is inimical to any and all life grown in soil, causing death to any such life within a 20-meter radius. Any land SCP-73 has walked on, and any within the 20-meter radius becomes barren as all anaerobic bacteria dies, rendering the soil incapable of supporting life until new bacteria are introduced. Anything that is derived from soil-grown life, such as wood and paper, immediately rots and disintegrates upon touch of SCP-73. Violence directed towards SCP-73 reflects any damage inflicted on SCP-73 directly back onto the attacker. Although SCP-73 visibly remains unharmed, this applies to any damage directed at SCP-73.

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