The SCP Experience - Carnival of Darkness | SCP-058

Episode Date: August 8, 2025

When a desperate carnival family accepts a mysterious crate containing a dormant, otherworldly creature, their struggling show becomes a nightmare they can’t escape. This story was derived from ⁠⁠https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-058 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

Let's hear it for the brave and beautiful Lynette Sharps and the undefeated Sammy Slinger. I gestured to my aunt and uncle and stepped to the side as the spotlight illuminated their faces. Aunt Lynette gracefully stepped down from the target she posed in front of, pulling the knives firmly out of the wood and placing one between her teeth. Uncle Sammy grabbed her by the waist with one hand, waving to the crowd with the other. The two bowed in unison and walked off stage. Lynette winked at me as she passed by. I stepped back into the spotlight and glanced at the underwhelming crowd. The tent was noticeably less full than last week's show. A pang of worry

registered in my gut, but I grinned through it. I thanked those who did attend and ushered the entire cast, my misfit family, back onto the stage for the final curtain call. After the show, I made my way through the smoke-filled den, where the performers were laughing and drinking. but they were celebrating was beyond me. Maybe they didn't know the whole show was about to go under, or maybe they didn't care. Ticket sales were the lowest they'd ever been, and with failed crops the last three years in a row, the farm was bound to be repossessed soon. I wandered around, looking for paw, and started bracing myself for the lecture I was about

to get about the ticket sales, or lack of them, supposed. I scanned the corners of the room and spotted his dark outline next to the bar storage. In front of him stood a man I'd never seen before. I looked him up and down, noting the custom fit of his suit. He looked like some big shot from the city. Maybe he wanted to buy the farm. It wasn't the worst idea, given the turn of events in the past few years. The man nodded to me, alerting my father to my presence. Charlie! My father wrapped his arm around my shoulder in an unusually cheerful way. I want you to be, Mr. Joyce.

He's done us a solid and secured a new act for the show. It's going to be huge. His enthusiasm was taken out on the meaty part of my shoulder, and I winced as he squeezed a bit too hard. I extended my hand towards Mr. Joyce, taking note of his sharp mustache and pale, empty eyes. Nice to meet you, sir. Charlie, the pleasure is all mine.

His smile exposed a bright gold tooth that stood in place of his left canine. Your father tells me you're quite the. a host. You'll be happy to know I'm bringing something groundbreaking for your show next week. It'll draw people in from all across the state, that's for sure. He turned back to my father, shaking his hand. It's been a pleasure doing business with you, Harry. We'll be by tomorrow round nine to drop off the merchandise. He grinned, flashing his gold tooth once more. My father placed his available hand on Mr. Joyce's shoulder and offered to walk him out. be just fine on my own, boys. Thank you kindly. We'll see you tomorrow. And with that, he disappeared

into the crowd. I sighed, looking at my father. Sorry about the ticket sales this week. I thought printing more flyers would do the trick. Ush now, he interrupted. No need for worrying about the past. We've just secured the future of the show. I can't believe how lucky we are. This is going to be huge. He rubbed either side of his bearded jaw with his hand. I tilted my head at him, wondering what could possibly undo the impending bankruptcy. We need to get the word out that next week's show is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, he said, placing his hand on my shoulder. Tell everyone that we have something huge in store, something they've never seen before. I nodded. Okay, but what is it? A new performer? I asked, hesitant at his newfound enthusiasm. It's a command.

complete freak of nature, top secret, never been featured in a show before, he said, gesturing wildly. It'll be here tomorrow, so stay nearby. This thing is a beast, and we'll need all the help we can get. I raised my brows. Is it dangerous? I asked, scanning his face. He laughed, and his gut shook up and down.

Don't be silly, son. It's about as safe as swallowing fire and throwing knives. A little bit of danger is par for the course in this bit. He grabbed both of my shoulders, swaying me back and forth, as if he was trying to shake the worry out of me. Hook up to the sound of crackling gravel in the driveway. Rupping my eyes, I remembered the delivery and hopped out of bed. I reached for my blue jeans and tugged them up, basically jumping into my boots on the way out the door. As I crossed the front lawn, I saw a paw standing behind the delivery truck, hands on his hips.

"'Morning, sleeping beauty. Nice of you to join us,' he scoffed, spitting over his left shoulder. "'Sorry, pa,' I mumbled. "'I must have slipped through my alarm.' He rolled his eyes and gestured towards the truck. "'Well, you made it. Just in time, I suppose.' He perked up and looked over my shoulder, waving his hand enthusiastically above his cowboy head. "'Mr. Joyce, pleasure to see you again so soon!' I turned to see the tall, well-dressed man emerging from the passenger seat of the delivery truck.

He looked out of place on the farm, and his overcoat and top hat were a bit dramatic for a Saturday morning. I forced a polite smile as he approached us. Good morning, gentlemen. I won't keep you waiting any longer. Boys, open the truck. He smacked the painted garage-like door on the back of the truck, and the doors rolled open. Two armed men were on either side of a large wooden crate. I looked at Bah, who had a confident smile fixed to his face. Why the guns? I asked. Mr. Joyce shrugged.

Just an extra precaution. You can never be too careful when dealing with the extraordinary. He offered us a reassuring grin and motioned for the men to bring the crate forward. The driver of the car pulled the metal ramp down, resting it on the gravel, and the armed guards carefully walked the mystery box down from the truck. Mr. Joyce rested his elbow on the edge of the box and motioned towards a small hole in the wood. Would you like to take a peek? He grinned.

Paw stepped forward slowly, peering hesitantly into the hole. Wow, you weren't joking. What is it? I've never seen anything like it before, he exclaimed. Charlie, you got to take a look at this. I leaned over the crate and glanced. through the hole in the wood. The light that crept in through the gaps in the planks

illuminated the red, fleshy texture of a creature that was not of God's kingdom. I took a sharp breath in as I watched it pulse. I was looking at a heart that was the size of a child, and it was beating. Tentacles extended from its center, wrapping around its form, reverberating slightly from each beat. I looked up from the hole and addressed Mr. Joyce. What is this? Where did you find it?

I asked, taking a second look at the guns holstered on the men's hips as they rolled the truck's door back down and latched it shut. It's a freak of nature, and its origins are unknown. Wish I could tell you where I got it, but that's top secret. He winked and pulled out a clipboard with his messenger bag, offering it to paw, along with the pen. I'll just need a quick signature from you, standard stuff. It confirms that you've received the parcel. and that you'll keep this transaction confidential. I watched as Paa scribbled his signature onto the form and handed it back.

Mr. Joyce tucked the clipboard back in his bag and fixed his gaze on Pa. Now, it's important that you understand that this thing is in a dormant state. Once it's been awoken, it needs to be locked up at all times. His eyes traveled to mine. I wondered if he could read the horror in them. It needs a lot of eyes. iron, he continued. We recommend at least one small cow per week.

That should coincide nicely with your weekly show. He lifted his hat to scratch the top of his hairline and rested it back on his sweaty forehead. Any more questions before I go? Pa shook his head. I think we've got it from here, he said. He pulled out a folded check from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Joyce, who kicked up dust as he trotted back to the truck. He waved before hoisting his. weight back into the passenger seat. I huffed out a long breath and crossed my arms as I watched

the big white delivery truck pull out of the driveway. I heard Uncle Sammy's voice behind me. Is this the superstar in here? he asked, slapping the box with his palm. Take it easy, Sammy. This thing is dangerous. Paa shook his head in disapproval. I thought she said it wasn't any more dangerous than knife throwing or breathing fire. I reminded Faw, knowing he'd underestimated the risk of the new addiction. to our show. Well, it'll be safer once we get it chained up and caged. This flimsy box is making me nervous.

Now go round back and start up the tractor. We need to get this thing into the shop while it's still dormant. Whatever that means, I thought as I kicked up the dust and went to fetch the tractor. Lazzang sur-gely, puissance-moined, for 15 minutes. We'd say that's the ojo. Preet. Vive the pleasure with the Ojo. The casino in-line that proposes the most recent machines-assine-sos

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the creature looked even more terrifying outside of its crate as it lay resting. Somewhere between sleep and consciousness. custom welded iron chains wrapped around its tentacles and back around the center of its mass. I stared at the wheels that lined the base of the enclosure, which was built large enough to fit livestock for feeding. The iron cage had taken a few days to weld, but thanks to the wheels from a retired tractor and mower, it would be easy to transport to and from the carnival tent. I looked at Uncle Sammy, who was grinning at paw.

Good job, boss, he said nodding. It's about time we started making some real money around here. Time's a bit tough, but this is going to change things for the better. So, I turned to paw. When does it wake up? He wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. I suppose it'll wake up when we feed it, he shrugged, walking over to a bright red cooler and removing a piece of steak wrapped in wax paper.

He walked back to us and offered me the bundle. Would you like to do the honor, son? I hesitantly reached for the stake and carefully unwrapped the white wax paper, discarding it to the ground. Approaching the cage carefully, I peered through the bars. I couldn't make out a set of eyes, but I could feel its ominous gaze in my direction just as well. I turned the stake vertically to slip it between the bars and flung it towards the creature, making sure to get it close enough for it to reach even with the chains. It sleepily collected the meat with one of its tentacles, drawing the flesh to an opening at the front of its mass.

In one movement, the stake was gone, and a low voice reverberated through the iron bars. Those who wander will discover the darkness in places we've yet to know, but those who remain will find a familiar darkness that's been there all along. I turned back to Pa and Uncle Sammy. What the hell? It talks? I asked, in awe of the strange creature, who sounded very much like a human. Paw and Uncle Sammy broke out in laughter.

Son of a bitch! Pa exclaimed, We're going to be rich! Uncle Sammy was still laughing as he walked close to the cage and wrapped his fingers around two bars on the enclosure. A tentacle slipped free from the chains and struck him with the fury of a lightning bolt. He shrieked, pulling his hand away and bringing his closed fist close to his chest. I stared at the strange liquid that dripped from his sleeve and dampened the straw beneath his feet. The crackling noise of Paw's cattle prodder brought my attention back to the cage where the creature recoiled from the shocks.

What the hell? Uncle Sammy shrieked. I looked back to see smoke rising around his boots as he stepped backwards. The smoke quickly turned into flames, and I ran to the water trough to fill the pail. Paw was quick behind me, filling another bucket. We tossed water on the growing flames that engulfed the pile of straw. Watch out! Uncle Sammy yelled as he tossed a horse blanket over the fire and stomped out the remaining flames with his boots.

We both looked at Paw, who looked back at the creature inside. I'm not sure how fond I am of the fire tricks. Best stay further back from the cage during the show. We'll be sure to load up on the tranquilizer, too. We don't want any funny business tomorrow night. He looked over at Uncle Sammy. Your hand all right, Sam. He examined his hand, spread his fingers apart from one another, and nodded his head.

Yes, sir. Just as good as new. I could hear the rowdy crowd hollering from behind the curtain. I patted my forehead with my handkerchief before stepping out into the spotlight. By now, I'd grown used to standing in front of an audience. But knowing that the monster was lurking behind the curtains made it feel like my first time on stage. I sighed, trying to remember how important this night was to the survival of the farm and our family legacy. I cleared my throat before bringing my face to the microphone. Welcome, ladies and gentlemen.

Tonight, we have a special surprise in store for you. Something terrifying, wicked, and never seen before. But first, to start the night off, please welcome Lynette Sharps and Sammy Slinger. I applauded along with the crowd as the two walked onto the stage, waving and bowing. I stood in the darkness offstage. The audience watched in awe as Aunt Lynette smiled, deathly still,

strapped to the rotating wheel as Uncle Sammy flung knives at his wife, landing next to her with the precision of a sniper. Aunt Lynette never flinched. She was a pro, and the crowd loved her. You ready? I smelled pause, whiskey-filled breath before I heard it. I turned to face him. He was holding a thick wad of cash,

which he waved at me excitedly. Congrats, son. The show sold out tonight. This is just the beginning. Things are going to start looking up for us. I cracked a smile, allowing the relief to set in for a moment. A shriek rang out from the crowd,

followed by more screams. I turned away from paw and ran towards the stage. As I peeked my head out to get a better look at the crowd, a knife flew in front of me. I turned and watched in horror as it found purchase in the shoulder of a man in the front row. I looked back just in time to duck from another knife that was flying through the air violently. This time, I saw the source and watched as a tentacle flung another knife into

the audience. I yelled, not taking my eyes off the creature who was no longer in his cage. Pa, we got a problem! I heard the click of his gun as he ran past me towards the creature. I scanned the stage. Uncle Sammy was nowhere to be found. I ran towards Aunt Lynette, who was still strapped to the rotation. wheel. The audience had vacated their seats, and they pushed and fought each other, trying to reach the only exit on that side of the tent. I reached for the first buckle that was around her wrist. She looked behind me as I struggled to unfasten the strap.

Charlie, what is that thing? I didn't look back as I freed her left hand and reached for the strap that fastened her right. As her hand broke free, I felt a sharp, slimy tentacle wrap around my neck and pull me away. I flew backward, crashing into a beam that supported the and white fabric of the tent. I sprang back up to my feet, running back towards Aunt Lynette. But the creature wrapped the tentacle around my ankle and pulled my leg out from under me. I heard futile gunshots behind me as my head slammed into the ground, and I turned to look at the creature as it approached me. Flames towered behind it as it made its way closer. I could see Paa with two hands on his pistol, firing shot after shot at the creature, but it was no use.

The creature was unfazed. I flinched in anticipation as it hovered over me. listening as it spouted nonsense. To my surprise, it stomped past me and continued towards Aunt Lynette, who was unfastening the final buckle around her ankle. It launched violently at her, knocking her free from the target. Then, it swallowed her. I screamed as I watched her disappear into the creature's mass. Paa grabbed my arm.

Sean, we got to run! He pulled me through the smoke-filled rooms behind the stage. We finally made it outside, but the screams of those who didn't escape rang in my ears. as we trekked through the cornfield back towards the house. Stopping for a moment to catch our breath, we turned back to see the entire carnival tent up in flames. A plume of smoke filled the dark Kansas sky,

and, from the ruins, the creature emerged. I elbowed paw and motioned to the dark outline of the creature as it paced around the ruins of our livelihood. Faw motioned to the tornado shelter that was situated at the corner of the front lawn. We crouched as we made our way to the cellar. Paa carefully lifted the latch and motioned for me to climb in. I stepped down and turned to offer my hand to help him down the stairs, but he didn't move. You stay here, son. I've got to finish what I started.

He turned to walk back towards the ruins. Pa! I yelled. Don't go! He kept walking through the darkness, and I watched as his silhouette faded into the night. I heard two police sirens wail as they raced up the gravel road, there's spotlights scanning up and down the cornfield. I reluctantly pulled the storm shelter store over my head.

SCP 58 is a highly aggressive and fast-moving creature, resembling a bovine heart with anthropod-like legs, spined, tentacles, and a venomous stinger. It can lash its tentacles at deadly speeds up to 200 miles per hour and move across surfaces at bursts of 55 miles per hour. Despite its grotesque appearance, it inexplicably speaks in the voice of an elderly, British man with a lisp. Rambling continuously and incoherently, even during violent attacks.

SEP 58 is extremely resilient to damage and should be approached with extreme caution.