The SCP Experience - Doom Town Redux | SCP-6717

Episode Date: April 19, 2025

An elite recon team investigates a mysteriously fabricated 1950s town in the Arizona desert—only to discover its smiling, identical residents are guarding something ancient, alien, and terrifying beneath the surface. This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6717 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Matt Doggett * * * 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

Lieutenant Booth looked at the five of us arrayed around him. As always, he was wearing sunglasses. Only the deeply ingrained lines at the corner of his eyes were visible beside the frames. He actually needed the sunglasses now. The morning desert sun beat down on our dark uniforms and bounced up from the sandy landscape. As a result, we were all wearing sunglasses like they were part of our uniform. There was a running bed among us about the color of Booth's eyes. No one had ever seen them.

Vang joked that when L.T. was born, he refused to come out of the womb until the doctor handed him a tiny pair of sunglasses. Remember, boys, be nice unless I tell you otherwise. This is a recon mission first and foremost. So keep your guns down, but your heads on a well-oiled swivel. Four of us said, Yes, sir! In unison. But the fifth guy stood apart with his arms crossed over his ballistic vest, his M-4 rifle, hanging from its strap by his M-4 rifle, hanging from its strap by his.

his right hip. It didn't go unnoticed. Mackie, whose face was almost entirely concealed under a bushy black beard and aviator sunglasses, hooked a thumb toward the interloper. What's with the shadow, Lieutenant? Booth nodded once. This is Pimentel. He'll be tagging along with us. You don't need to worry about him. Just focus on your job, okay? This time, the yes sirs were decidedly half-hearted. I noted the large backpack that Pimentel hefted and secured to his shoulders, wondering what was in it. All right, let's move. We all turned away from the truck that had delivered us to this patch of Arizona Desert,

and toward the neighborhood that had seemingly sprouted out of the dirt at some point in the not-too-distant past. There was no record of any construction taking place here, and there were certainly no infrastructure, no plumbing or electric. Yet the neighborhood stood, looking at it. like a Norman Rockwell painting. There was no fence around the place, and satellite recon told us that the square-shaped suburb was 2,000 feet on a side. It also told us that there were 506 buildings, 500 of which were houses. The other six buildings were located around a town square, and they included a grocery store, post office, diner, office building, and a church. But the 50s-style

architecture wasn't our main concern. It was the people who lived in the town. town. That was our main objective. To engage and determine if they were anomalous and, if so, to what extent. If we could do that peacefully, all the better. We approached an asphalt road that started out of nowhere. Vang took point, followed by me, Mackie, and Hahn. L.T. and Pimentel took up the rear. As Vang came to the threshold, he paused and looked over his shoulder. Let's do it, L.T. said. Vang stepped up onto the road and the rest of us followed. Without exception, all the homes were one story,

and they all reminded me of that fake town in the Nevada desert, where they tested nuclear bombs in the 50s, Doom Town. The homes were various shades of pastel, the mailboxes perfectly straight, and the sidewalks clean of all debris. Many of the homes had white picket fences around them. All of them featured impossibly green lawns. We peered at the windows, looking for any sign of movement, waiting for something to happen.

Vang angled toward one of the yards without a fence. He crouched and looked at the bright green grass. Then he reached a gloved handout and touched it. It's fake, he said. Fake grass. I moved over to a mailbox and tried to open it. But a piece of it came off in my hand, exposing the interior. I turned, looked at L.T. and said,

It's styrofoam. L.T. nodded. Mackie, check that fence. Mackie hustled over to the next yard, which had a white picket fence around it. He grabbed one of the fence posts and jerked, easily snapping the top of it off. Yep, styrofoam.

Let's check this house, Pimentel said, gesturing at the home I was standing in front of. There's someone inside. Everyone looked at L.T. for guidance. Check the house, he said, verifying the spoof. Duke's order. Connor, you and Han take point.

Knock first, we'll cover you. Copy, I said. Han, a compact and quiet guy, joined me. We headed up the concrete walkway to the front door. As we got closer, I saw that Pimentel was right. There was someone in the house, standing in the living room to one side of the large picture window. I raised a hand and knocked on the door. Half surprised that it was solid wood and not styrofoam.

He's coming to the door, LT said. I shifted my grip on my rifle, but I kept the barrel pointed down and my finger resting just above the trigger housing. Instinctively, Han and I took either side at the door in case the guy inside wanted to shoot through it. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a clean-shaven man in a brown suit with a skinny black tie. The man didn't look at either of us, instead staring off into the distance. His head and body perfectly still. Hello. Hello.

I said. I'm Connor. Who are you? I am Name Smith. The man said. Name Smith? Yes, name Smith. I glanced over my shoulder at L.T.

who nodded me on. Where do you come from, Mr. Smith? In the living room. Yes, but before that, where did you come from? Here. I sensed movement from behind me, and looked back to see Piemintel stepping onto the porch. Hello, Mr. Smith. I'm Mr. Pimentel.

May we come in? Still not looking at us, Smith nodded stiffly. Come in, he stepped aside. The three of us walked in, leaving the other three out on the sidewalk. Once inside, Smith closed the door and walked to the living room. Pimentel walked after him, following closely by Han and me. As we went, I looked around the door. the house, seeing that there was no furniture and nothing on the walls. The place was barren.

We stopped in the living room and Smith turned to us, but didn't make eye contact. Welcome to my home. This is where I live. I love my home. What do you do all day? Emendell asked. I work. Where do you work? At my job. And what do you do there? Work. I like my work. It is fulfilling. What does that work entail? The question seemed to fluster Smith, and for the first time, he looked one of us in the eye. He looked straight at Himandel. I don't recognize you.

Han and I shared a look. When I looked back, Himintel had a knife out and was stepping toward Smith with it. He jammed the blade into Smith's stomach and ripped it savagely up toward his ribcage. Jesus! Han said. Smith didn't react as one would expect. He looked down at the wound and then back up at Pimentel. I don't recognize you.

I noticed there was no blood from the wound. But before I could delve into that line of thought, Pimentel pulled a knife out of Smith's stomach and jammed it to his throat. He ripped Smith's throat open, and this time there was blood. Pimentel tripped Smith to the floor on his back and changed tack again. This time, he used to the throat open. the knife to gouge Smith's eyeballs out. Again, there was blood. I got a good view of the stomach wound, seeing that it looked as if the man's abdomen was made of nothing but layers of skin.

No blood vessels or veins or muscles, just skin. Han spoke into his radio. LT. This guy is killing Smith. What do you want us to do? By the time Lieutenant Booth got into the house, Piemintel was busy slicing open Smith's head with his knife. It seemed like the man didn't have a skull, at least not one made of bone. There was no brain either. Like his stomach, Smith's head seemed to be made of nothing but spongy flesh. Smith no longer spoke, but I wasn't sure if it was because he was dead or if he'd been turned off somehow. I wasn't sure if something like that could be alive anyway. His eyes remained open, but he didn't move anymore. Booth stood between Han and me, looking down at the scene as Pimentel worked. We saw him.

He stood there for a while as the man dug around in Smith's body. When he finally stood up and put his knife back in its sheath, he looked at L.T. Not human. That's for sure. I can see that, Booth said. What about the blood? The only part of him that could be considered human is his mouth, throat, and eyes. He has vocal cords, obviously, but his eyes don't lead back to a brain. The stems just terminate in that weird flesh.

Same with his throat. It just ends. He has no vascular system, no heart. I'm not sure what the blood in his head is about. Maybe he was human at one point. We'll know more if we can get a specimen out of here, but we've got another objective first. Okay, Booth said.

What now? Dementel checked his watch. Now we have 20 minutes to get to the center of town. Booth nodded. On, you stay here and keep an eye on this corpse, until I tell you otherwise. Let me know if anything happens. Anything at all.

Copy, Han said. Booth turned to me. Connor, help Han clear the house and meet us outside in two minutes. It was strange to see Lieutenant Booth taking orders from Piemintel. But I didn't say anything about it. Obviously, this mission, and Pimintel's involvement in it, went higher than even our commander. That didn't mean I was happy to take orders from Pimentel. Thankfully, when I got outside after clearing the house with Han, it was Booth who took control again.

The group of us, everyone but Han, headed down the street toward the center of town. Vang took point, while Mackie and I brought up the rear. As we walked, I checked my watch. What happens in 17 minutes? Mackie shrugged his big shoulders, one side of his narrow mouth twitching as he scanned our surroundings. We passed a bunch of single-story ranch, style homes in various pastel colors. Bang shouted out when he saw people through windows. Not all the homes had open shades, but those that did allowed us to see figures standing inside,

looking out. It was impossible to tell if they were looking at us, but their heads didn't move as we passed. Their shapes denoted men and women, and although it was hard to tell because we could see little more than silhouettes, they all looked similar. The men looked like name Smith back in the house. The women looked like your archetypal 50s housewife, with big hair and colorful dresses. By the time we reached the town square, which was a small park surrounded by the business center of the community, no one else had engaged us, and we hadn't heard anything from Han. We stopped on the fake grass in the park and looked around. One building had the words, grocery food market, across the top above a pair of glass doors. Another one, which looked,

like a boxcar diner said, food diner on it. Next to the diner was a three-story office building that said business building. There was a post office and a church, both easily identifiable. But the last building around the town center was four stories tall and completely gray,

like it had been painted, windows and all, with gunmetal gray paint. Okay, he Mantel said, looking at his watch. If anything happens, we fall back to the church, and take defensive positions. Mackie, Vang, and I all looked at Lieutenant Booth, who nodded at us to confirm the man's command. Can you at least tell us what might happen?

Vang asked Pimentel. I would if I could. Maybe nothing, but we'll see. If you haven't figured it out yet, we're here to kick the Hornet's Nest. The idea is not to get stung, but no one fires unless Booth or I say so. From the center of town, we had a look down four. main streets that all converged on the park. So when Pimentel said, Okay, it should happen now, we all gathered with our backs to each other and watched

our surroundings. The doors on all the homes opened in unison, and one person walked stiffly out of each one. I noted that every other house was occupied by a member of the opposite sex. It went man, woman, man, woman, all the way down the line. These people People walked down their walkways and turned toward us on the sidewalk, still in perfect unison. Then they marched down the sidewalk toward the center of the neighborhood. Risking a glance around, I saw that the same thing was happening on all sides. All the women looked exactly the same, and so did all the men, like they were clones.

Seeing how many there were caused my guts to compress on themselves. There were hundreds of them, and they were all walking toward us. If they really wanted, they could overrun us. It wouldn't be too hard. I glanced at the church, but the uniform gray building next door drew my attention. I thought there was a low-grade hum coming from it, but I couldn't focus on that right now. I returned my attention to the lines of men and women coming our way. L.T., On said over the radio.

People are coming out of the houses down here. Copy that. Anything new with a dead entity? Negative. Stay put and keep your guard up. Copy. As the first figures reached the town square, they started to split up, going into the different buildings. Some went to the post office, some went to the diner.

Only a couple went to the church, which was probably why Pimentel wanted it as a fallback spot. The majority of them went into the office building, but I saw no one go into the gray building. Ten minutes after it started, the streets were empty again. Everyone gone to their proper places. Okay, good. Now, let's see about getting in there. Piemintel gestured at the gray building.

Everyone on me. We hustled over to the building and spread out in an arc around the single front door, which was large, metal, and featured a key-operated deadbolt. Pimantel tried the handle and found it locked. He took his backpack off and extracted a drill from it. He knelt in front of the door and started to be a door. and started working to drill through the locking mechanism. Uh, something's happening, Mackie said.

A man and a woman had come out of the church, and they were looking at us, directly at us. As they moved toward us, my attention was drawn by more people coming out of the office building across the street. These people were looking at us, too, and they didn't look happy. What do we do, L.T., bang asked. Just stay calm. Don't engage unless they do so first.

How long until you get that? That door opened, Bimandel. One minute. I eased my rifle up, so the stock was at my shoulder. But I didn't point the barrel at the couple from the church. They came up and stopped in front of us, six feet away. I don't recognize you, the man said. I don't recognize you.

The woman said a moment later. Those same four words were repeated again in a staggered manner by all the other people coming up to us. Soon, we were surrounded by hundreds of these identical people. But the closest of them stopped six feet away, and they kept their empty hands at their sides. Still, they kept saying, I don't recognize you. Over and over again. And the longer it went on, the louder they got. It's been a minute, Booth said.

Are you in yet? The lock doesn't work. The door must be sealed shut from the inside. I'm going to have to blast it open. Well, you better work quick, because I don't think they like you messing with their building. Booth put a hand to his ear. Han, double-time it to the square. We need your help.

On my way. We were all tense now. That will happen when hundreds of people are all yelling at you. To my left, a man stepped from the crowd and raised his arm, pointing a finger at Mackie. I don't recognize you! He screamed, taking another step, getting his finger in the bearded man's face. Mackey knocked the man's hand away and cracked him in the jaw with his gunstock. The guy stumbled back, lips bleeding.

teeth messed up. The entire crowd went silent for a long moment. Then they rushed us. Weapons free! Booth yelled. He needn't have bothered. My finger was already on my trigger. I fired short bursts,

prioritizing the nearest targets, and there were a lot of them. Knowing what we had learned about their anatomy from name Smith, I decided not to aim for center mass. Instead, shooting each target in the head as they ran toward us. It seemed to work, and the bodies started to put. pile up in an arc around our position.

But there were still too many, and it was only a matter of moments before they swarmed us. Get us inside, you fucker! Mackey yelled at Pimendell. Breach, breach, breach! Pimentel called. Normally, we would fall back to either side of the door to minimize risk, but we had no such luxury this time.

The shape charge Pimentel had was designed to send the blast in one direction, but there was always a chance that there would be some shrapnel flying in other directions. Unable to do anything else, I hunched my shoulders in an effort to protect the back of my neck just before the charge exploded. I felt a rush of hot wind from behind me, but I kept firing at the people rushing us. We're in! Turned and saw that Pimentel and Booth were on either side of the blown open door. Weapons up.

They were going to cover our retreat. I rushed inside the dark building, followed by Mackie. Only when I got inside did I turn and look out, seeing that Vang was in the clutches of the mob. I fired at a couple of the people who had a hold of him, but he was soon enveloped. All I could see after a moment was one of his arms getting ripped off. I heard his scream over the radio, but then Booth and Pimentel were rushing inside, and we were lifting the door back up in an effort to keep the mob out. I flipped on the flashlight attached to my rifle and shone it around the dark interior,

seeing that the ceiling went all the way up to the top of the building. In the middle of the space was a massive black egg that looked as if it was made of metal. I ran around the egg, looking for a back door and not finding one. The only thing I found was a metal staircase that led up to a catwalk around the widest part of the egg. Because the interior was so dark and my flashlight only so effective, I couldn't see if there was some sort of exit or a defensible area at the end of the catwalk. Gunshots sounded from the front of the building, indicating that the mob was getting inside. I ran back around and saw that the crowd was rushing in.

Knowing that we could create a bottleneck on the stairs, I shouted. This way! Pimentel, Booth, and Mackey followed me over to and up the staircase. Mackey, Connor, don't let them pass this point, Booth said. I only have two mags left, Mackey said. Booth nodded. Gopi, we'll find a way out. As Mackey and I turned to face the crowd, now rushing for the steps,

Pimentel and Booth ran along the catwalk and disappeared behind the huge egg. Mackey and I picked our shots carefully as the crowd came up. Pretty soon, the dead bodies piled on the stairs were slowing the mob down. Changing Mag, Mackie said. Last one! Got any spares? I looked down and saw that I only had one left. No, I'm about to be on my last one. Well, fuck a duck.

Let's hope LT has found a way out. The crowd below tried to get past the bodies piled at the bottom of the stairs. We kept firing, trying to use only one bullet for each person. The metal walkway vibrated as Booth and Pimentel came running up to it. Intel came running up to us, diving on Mackie and me just a moment before a sound like the world ripping apart still be inside of the building. The walkway jumped underneath us as a rush of hot, particle-filled air crashed over our position. I felt the floor tilt, and then I was sliding backward as the catwalk collapsed. On instinct, I hooked my fingers through the grated metal

and held on, even as Mackie and the other slid away. A moment later, the walkway stopped moving with a banging jolt, and I found myself hanging on at a 45-degree angle. I glanced over my shoulder to see the others in a pile on the floor, having slid down when the section of walkway detached from the rest of the structure, which was fully collapsed. Luckily, my three compatriots were moving. Then I looked up at the egg, which was still standing. At first, I thought it was my vision playing tricks on me.

But then I realized that the massive egg was moving. It was collapsing. It rolled forward toward the front door we'd come through. Its shiny black exterior snaked with expanding cracks as it moved. I watched, knowing there was nothing I could do to save myself if it fell toward me. Whether because of the placement of the explosives or just a stroke of luck, the egg fell straight forward. Its tip, crashing into the front wall of the building and knocking a jagged and gaping hole through it

before its structure fell apart. As it hit the floor, its shell crashed into thousands of the building. pieces. Sunlight from the huge hole in the wall streamed in, revealing what had been inside the egg. The giant humanoid body was milky white and incomplete. I had a good view of it from where I clung to the half-collapsed walkway, and I guessed that its legs alone were a good 20 feet long. But it lay in a fetal position, amid the shattered remnants of the shell, a transparent ooze, spreading slowly through the debris in all directions. The creature had no hair, no fingernails, finding features on its smooth white body.

I counted twelve fingers total and the same number of toes. Its eyelids fluttered open, revealing pink orbs that stared blankly as the creature began to twitch. Its toothless mouth opened and a horrific sound escaped at irregular intervals, reminding me of a newly hatched baby bird crying for its mother. Pimentel rushed over toward the creature's massive head, pointed his rifle, and put half a magazine into the thing's skull. The creatures stopped making noise and stopped moving. Pimentel looked over toward the hole in the front wall.

I followed his gaze, peering through the grate. All the people who'd been outside were now dead, it seemed. Whether they had been crushed by debris or had died because the being inside the egg was now dead, I had no way of knowing. But as I climbed down the grate to join Mackie and Lieutenant Booth, I made peace with the fact that I would likely never know. Just like I would likely never know what purpose this dead. White Giant would have ultimately served if it had been allowed to hatch.

Such was the nature of being a grunt for the foundation. As the four of us worked our way back outside, stepping around foot-thick pieces of black-egshell and dead humanoids, I saw a figure moving warily toward us. It was Han, and he relaxed when he recognized us. Holy shit, he said, looking through the hole in the wall at the dead giant. Why do you guys always get to have all the fun? SCP 6717 is an area measuring 2,000 feet by 2,000 feet, resembling that of a 1950s-era suburban American neighborhood, located in Mojave County, Arizona.

Within the area are 506 individual buildings, of which, 500 resemble suburban residential housing. All housing is devoid of any furniture, all foliage within SCP 6717 is constructed of plastic, and all street fixtures, with the exception to the exception. of lampposts are constructed of styrofoam and are non-functional. At the center of SCP-6717 is an open square, resembling a town center. Around the center are buildings resembling a post office, grocery store, office, diner restaurant, and a church. SCP 6717 is populated by an estimated 300 humanoid entities designated SCP 6717-1. These instances are externally similar to humans.

would have been observed to have notable behavioral differences.