The SCP Experience - Clerks 666 | SCP-2854

Episode Date: November 25, 2022

Check out my brand new UFO podcast here: THEY'RE OUT THERE SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-2854: Clerks 666 This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2854, 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

Welcome to aboard Via Rai. Embarked and profite. Embarque and celebrate. Rigolet. Publiere. Savoyer. Admirate. And profite.

Villaray, the voice we love that we love. Don't resist, man. It's no use. My words fall on the new guy's deaf ears. He's not really deaf, though. But he does seem kind of dumb. I stand inside the store's automatic doors. Watching as a found out of the house,

Foundation security guard struggles to shove new guy into the store. Get the hell in there, or I'll crack your skull. The guard, a guy named Boyers, says. What's that they used to say in Star Trek? I say to New Guy. Resistance is futile. Finally, a second security guard comes over, and the two of them shoved New Guy inside,

sending him sprawling onto the large worn mat. You come out of there before your shift is done. I'll feed you to SCP 682, Boyer says. He and the other security guard walk away to their posts. If you ask me, this is an inauspicious start to the day. New guy lies on the mat, unmoving, until the automatic door closes. Really, man, this isn't such a bad gig, I tell him. Compared to some of the other shit I've done for the foundation, this is a cakewalk.

Finally, New Guy moves, looking up at me from the floor. The automatic door opens behind him, letting the chill morning air into the store again. I hate retail, he says. It is a special kind of hell, I admit. But you can't let it get to you. It's better than getting torn into pieces by an unkillable lizard. Is it, though? New Guy says, standing up and dusting off his orange jumpsuit.

He's fairly young, maybe in his earlier 20s. He's got the kind of plump body that I associate with babies. Not exactly fat, but not really thin either. His dark hair is buzzed close to the scalp, just like mine. His wide-set eyes are small and green. They dart around the store, no doubt looking for some monster that will appear and try to kill him. Or maybe he wasn't kidding. Maybe he just hates retail that mind.

Come on, new guy, I say to him. I'll show you the ropes. It's easy. I turned to walk into the small grocery store, hoping he'll follow me. He doesn't. Instead, he turns and runs out the front door, but he doesn't make it very far. He comes face to face with a huge humanoid beast straight out of a Renaissance painting of hell. The muscular beast is covered with wiry black fur, with cloven-hoofed feet and horns on his head. and horns on his head. He carries a writhing serpent in each hand, and his red eyes glow with

pure evil. His face is half goat and half human, but he has three mouths, one in the middle, and one in each cheek. New Guy changes direction and begins walking backward, because the eight-foot tall demon hasn't even broken stride. Beyond the beast in the parking lot, I can see an oversized Pontiac firebird, steam coming off it in the chill air. New guy comes back into the store. Moving off to the side as the beast ducks and walks in. Hey, Frank, I say, raising a hand. The beast says out of all three mouths, his voice crackling like sizzling flesh, sending terrible thoughts coursing through my mind. But he doesn't stop. He just walks on into the store. Frank told me his real name once, but just hearing it made my nose bleed.

So I just call him, Frank. He can go to hell if he doesn't like it. Actually, that's where he's just come from. New Guy watches Frank walk down aisle 7. Hell wears, and then turns his attention back to the door. New guy, I say. You can try to run, but the security people have a perimeter set up. And if you make them work too hard, they will beat the shit out of you.

But if you stay in here and do as I say, nothing bad will happen to you. Okay? My name's not fucking new guy. It's Dante, okay? Dante Milton. You've got to be fucking kidding me, I say. What? You got a problem with my name?

Dante says, rushing over to me and getting all Alpha Dog in my face. I landed in jail for beating the spit out of three guys who were harassing my little sister. I may have gone too far with one of them, the ringleader. He may have died in the hospital. And I may have told the judge during the trial that I would do it again. That's what may have landed me in the clutches of the foundation as a Class D, orange jumpsuited guinea big. All that to say that the three guys I fought, all at once, mind you,

were bigger and stronger and scarier than Dante Milton. So I wasn't too concerned. Still, I don't want to make the guy's day any worse. So I put my hands up and say, No problem, no problem. Just that, whoever signed you up for this detail has a sense of humor, I guess. What do you mean? Dante says.

What the hell are you talking about? Like I said earlier, he's a little dumb. Nothing, I tell him. Forget it. As Dante's deciding whether to throw a pudgy fist at me, the automatic door opens again. An ephemeral humanoid being walks in, looking like a collection of mist.

It has no facial features. No distinguishing features at all, really. Hey, buddy, I say. Welcome to Babylon's. The being ignores me and walks over to Isle 2. Bread, flesh, and manna. What the fuck is this place? Dante says, stomping one foot like a child.

Just stick with me. You'll get used to it. I say. Oh, names's Owen, by the way. I stick out my hand, but Dante just looks at it. Then he looks over my shoulder. That thing's back, he says. I turn and see Frank standing at Register No. 1,

looking over at us impatiently. His arms are crossed, and the writhing serpents in each hand are looking our way too. Follow me, and remember, the customer is always right. I step up behind Register 1 and put on my best smile. There's a single package on the little belt, and I go to grab it, But the creature clears his throat. I stop and look up at him. How can I help you, Frank?

The demon glowers at me for a moment before picking up the package. The plastic packaging says unbred on the front in big letters. Inside, there are little humanoid shapes of green-colored bread. They look like miniature zombies, well into their decomposition. Do you have any of things that are more rotten? Frank asks, speaking out of one mouth now. His voice only kind of making me want to kill myself. I like them really ripe.

Oh, gee, I say. Let me go check in the back. Frank nods and recrosses his arms. I turn to Dante. Just stay here and ring anyone up on register two, okay? What? Dante says. No way.

I can't ring these things up. Let me go check the back. You don't even know where. the back is, I say. It's fine. You've worked to register before, right? Just ring stuff up and make change. It's easy. I'll be back in a flash. Dante makes concerned noises, but I rush off before he can say anything else. When I come back less than two minutes later, I see Dante being choked by a huge demon with reptilian skin and bat wings. Abadon. Whoa, whoa, I say, Abby, my man. What's the deal? Can you put him down so we can talk about this? Abadon drops Dante,

who hits the ground with a thud and sucks in a gasping breath. He didn't greet me when I came in the door, Abadon says, his voice high and whiny, the complete opposite of how you think it should sound. Well, Abby, he's new. It's his first day, I say in soothing tones. I haven't had a chance to train him yet, but I'm very sorry. Welcome to Babylon's Abby. Can I help you find anything? Abadon Cox one muscular hip out and puts a hand on it. He glars at me with the black eyes of a shark. No, I can find things myself.

I'm not an idiot. He stalks off to Isle 3, Halloween candy. I'm waiting. The voices like nails sticking directly into my brain. I have a sudden urge to jump off a tall building. Frank, speaking with his three mouths. Sorry, Frank. I say, going around to register one and holding up the package of unbred I found in the back.

It's the ripest one I found. Frank smiles with all his mouths. The serpents hiss happily. I ring the demon up and send him on his way. Jesus Christ, Dante says, getting up and rubbing his neck. Hush, I say, looking around for fear that someone hurt him. Don't say that in this place. They really don't like that.

What was his problem? Tante says. He just came over and looked at me. When I asked him what he wanted, he started fucking choking me. I glance around to make sure Abadon isn't within earshot. He's a bit of a Karen, I say. Just make sure you're super nice and you greet him when he comes in. In fact, it's a good idea to greet everyone. As if on cue, the automatic door opens and in walks a short, fat, green-skinned, demon with three horns,

sticking out of his head. Beside him walks a hellhound, all three of its heads, sniffing the air and looking around curiously with its three pairs of red eyes. Welcome to Babylon Horrors Corner Store, I call out. The demon flips me the bird without so much as looking over. The mist figure comes up with a package of deviled eggs, little eggs holding pitchforks,

and producing little explosions of flame in their container. I supervise as Dante rings up the purchase, taking the strange money from the ephemeral figure and making change. See? I ask when the figure is gone. It's easy. The computer tells you exactly which coins to give back. I look around and then grab a bell from under the register, placing it on the belt so any customer that's ready to check out can ring it. Let me show you the back, I say.

I lead Dante through aisles of odd products and toward the storeroom. As we're walking, I catch a glimpse of Abby. looking at the rotting meats section. Instead of having the meats refrigerated, Babylon's has them sitting under weak heat lamps, helping them go bad as quickly as possible. The stench is unbearable as I help Abby find the last baggage of demon dogs. They look like hot dogs,

but each one has three cylindrical heads, and they bark when you cook them. RBC Training Ground has discovered potential in over 20,000 Canadian athletes and counting. Your story could be next. If you've got the drive, they'll help you find your path to the Olympics. Let's see what you've got. Sign up for free at rbc training ground.ca.

As I turn around to head back to Dante, I see something behind him. Doc! I shout, but too late. The floating package of demon dogs smacks him in the back of the head, continuing on its way to stock itself on the shelf. What the hell? He says. You're lucky that wasn't something from the hellware's aisle.

Pretty much everything there has spikes. I give Dante the rundown on the storage room, telling him we don't have to worry about restocking anything. The only time we have to go back there is when a customer wants something specific, like Frank and the unbred. The bell at the front of the store dings, and I run to take care of it.

I ring up the green demon, who buys several items, including an extra large package of human eyeballs for his hellhound. Hungry dog, huh? I say, smiling. The demon flips me off again before paying and leaving with his grocery bags, which are made of human skin. With the transaction done, I look around for Dante. He emerges from the Hellwheres aisle and walks up.

What were you doing there? I ask. Just getting the lay of the land. Get off my back. Jesus, I... I say, stopping before he can say it again. While we finish out the shift, I try my best to... to tell Dante all he needs to know about the store. I tell him about how the one time the foundation decided not to open the store, the demons went to local Walmart. That didn't go over well.

Lots of amnestics had to be used after that one. So now, they make sure the store is open every day. Finally, the shift is over. Handing things over to the night shift doesn't take long. With that done, we head outside to catch our ride back to Site 118. As we approach the door, I feel like I'm forgetting something. Something important that I forgot to tell Dante. That wasn't so bad, he says.

You're right. Better than some other shit I've had to do. We step out into the late afternoon sun. Suddenly, I remember what I forgot to tell him. Oh. I say turning to him. This is important. Tentacles shoot out from around the front door,

grabbing Dante by the arms and legs. He screams as they pull. and pull. I step back, winting at the sound of his flesh splitting. Then, all at once, his limbs are torn away in a splash of blood. His torso, head still attached, flops down on the ground just in front of the door. The tentacles suck back into their recesses, taking his arms and legs with them. Dante screams, looking down at his gaping wounds. A black hole opens up in the ground just behind his head. He's still screaming when the gruesome, gnarled hands reach out of that infinite blackness and pull him down by the head.

The screaming fades, but the hole stays open. And, after a moment, a small torture tool floats out of the hole. It's sharp and spiky, and has a wooden handle with a tag still attached. It moves through the open door, heading back to restock itself in the Hellwheres aisle. Don't ever steal anything from the store, I say, finishing my thought. Whether he stole it to get revenge on the guards who man-handled him this morning, or he thought he could somehow use it to escape, doesn't matter. It was a stupid move on his part.

And yes, I should have told him what would happen if he ever stole something. Oops. Still, it goes to show what I've been saying for years. It's impossible to find good help these days. SCP-2854 is an abandoned supermarket located about two miles from site, one-eating. SCP 2854-1 is the designation for entities that frequent SCP 2854. During normal business hours, the store's anomalous properties will manifest. Cars will begin to appear outside in the parking lot.

SCP 2854-1 instances will then vacate their cars and enter SCP 2854. Entities observed during normal business hours include, entities whose bodies are the consistency of mist and are observed to be lacking discerning facial features. Entities with several pairs of wings and heads similar to depictions in Christian iconography. Entities of various sizes, shapes, and anomalous abilities similar to depictions of the Christian underworld. The name Babylon Hors Corner Store is prominently displayed over the entrance to the establishment. Inside, several Checkout lanes can be observed near the front of the store, with aisles occupying the majority

of the remaining space. In the back of the supermarket, a storeroom stores unused products for placement on the shelves. The SCP-2854-1 instances will pay for the products with a monetary currency not recognized by any known government or organization. The SCP-2854-1 instances will then re-enter their cars and disappear. Currency discovered inside SCP-2854 displays a rough depiction of a dwarf on the front, with a denomination printed in a language that currently eludes foundation researchers.

At the time of writing, all attempts to translate the language printed on the currency have been unsuccessful. Lasagne sur-joled, puissance-moleaned for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Pre to play to enjoy? Vive the pleasure with Leojo.

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