The SCP Experience - From the Office of Mr. Dark | SCP-3613

Episode Date: December 9, 2022

Check out my brand new UFO podcast here: THEY'RE OUT THERE SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-3613: From the Office of Mr. Dark  This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3613, 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

I saw the truck coming up toward my van, in the right lane. Its headlights had been bobbing and swerving through the evening traffic. Dolores, in the front passenger seat, sensed my unease. She turned around and looked back past our three children as I slowed down from 55 to 50. I wanted to let the truck pass quickly. It was a mistake. Alice was too old for trick-or-treating, but she'd just been to a friend's Halloween party. She was dressed in a witch outfit that I found much too revealing for a young teenage girl.

But that was the style, I supposed. She had her headphones in. Her face lit up with dancing lights from her phone. Tracy and Jacob Jr. sat in the back, chatting amiably while digging through their pumpkin-shaped buckets of candy. I put my blinker on to get out of the passing lane, but there was a sedan directly in my blind spot. The truck swerved and lurched up behind me. Its headlights filled the back window. Just as I decided to speed up and slip into the right lane ahead of the sedan,

the truck switched lanes again, riding the sedan's bumper instead of mine. The sedan started to speed up, so I kept my speed steady. But as the truck came up beside us, I noticed it was veering into our lane. I honked, riding the double yellow to my left. Southbound traffic rushed by just feet away. The feeling of the truck hitting the sun. side of our van was one I'll never forget. I fought the wheel, trying to keep in our lane

while simultaneously hitting the brakes. But it was too late. The truck forced us into the opposing lane. Before I could do anything, we smashed into the front of a semi. A head-on collision, glass shattered, metal screamed, the van tumbled. Pain shot throughout my body just before the world went black. I came too briefly and managed to look at my wife. was covered in blood. Her eyes were open, but they didn't move. They didn't see. A terrible

gurgling sound came from the back of the van, which I realized was on its side. I was pressed against my seatbelt, gravity pulling at me. I couldn't move enough to look back, to see if my kids were okay. Soon enough, the gurgling sound stopped, and all I could hear were the frightened murmurings of onlookers, than the sound of distant sirens. Mr. Jefferson, the man says. He told me his name is Foster, Dr. Foster. I know this all seems like a lot to take in, but your actions have given us no choice. He's wearing a nice gray suit with a black tie. He has the face of a philosopher, the creased brows of someone who spends his time mulling over big problems.

Where's my family? I ask. It's all I've asked for the two days I've been locked in this cell. Foster shakes his head. He lifts the tablet in his left hand and does something on the screen. Then he steps close to me and presents it. Read this message from your employer, he says. I look at the screen, seeing nothing but a blank page. Is this a joke? I ask.

There's nothing there. What are you playing at? Foster looks at the tablet screen himself. You don't see anything on this? Just let me see my family, I say. He studies me for a moment before nodding and leaving the room. Are you awake? That voice, the sweet voice of my oldest daughter. I lifted my eyelids and saw the blurry outline of Alice there.

She was standing next to me in what I quickly realized was a hospital room. She was holding my hand. I smiled despite the pain. Are you okay? She had a few bandages here and there, but she looked okay. She was no longer wearing the witch costume. She nodded, tears in her eyes. I'm okay. We all are.

She gestured with her chin to the other side of the bed. I turned my head and saw my beloved Dolores there, asleep in a chair with Jacob Jr. dozing in her lap. Tracy was sitting on the floor, playing on her phone. She looked up at me, her plump, little. face marred with small scratches. Her brilliant green eyes lit up. Daddy! She jumped up and got on her tiptoes to hug me. Tracy's exclamation woke Dolores. The top of her head was wrapped in bandages, but she looked as pretty as the day we met. She smiled at me and reached a hand out to the arm

I had wrapped around Tracy. Everyone's okay? I asked. A little banged up, but we're okay, Dolores said. You got the worst of it. I smiled. How long have I been out? Eight days, Dolores said. But you're back now. That's what matters.

It was a miracle of miracles. My family was alive. We were all still alive. The crash was nothing but a bad memory when I received a text for my wife. JJ got into a fight at school, it said. Suffered a minor injury. I'm going to the hospital now.

My heart lurched in my chest. No parent wants to hear that their child is going to the hospital, but it was a minor injury. Dolores would have told me if it was anything serious. I drafted a reply and then slipped my phone away. I was at work, doing security for an auction in Atlanta anyway. I couldn't leave unless it was something really important. My team did a radio check and everything seemed fine.

The auction was in full swing. and I was back in the security room, watching a bank of monitors. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I was sure it would be another successful auction. But about a half an hour after the text from Dolores, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and answered it. Is he okay? I asked. They took him. They took Jake.

Wait, wait, what? Who took him? I don't know. The doctor said he had the police with him. They just took him. I'll be right there. I said. I called Mr. Dark and told him I had a family emergency. He was very understanding, telling me to contact him if he could do anything to help. I put Velasco, my second in command, in charge and left the auction. By the time I got to the hospital, my wife was in complete

hysterics. She had a half-crumpled document in her hand as she sat in the pediatric wing's waiting room. What does it say? She kept screaming, creating a scene. What does it say? I talked briefly to the doctor who'd been treating the scrape on my son's arm, and she assured me that it was all above board. The police had been with the men in suits, and they'd left behind the relevant paperwork. There was something strange about the doctor.

She seemed frightened of me, of us. But at the time, I just thought it was because my wife was making a scene. I had no idea. I couldn't make sense of the paperwork at the hospital, so the only thing to do was to take my wife home. and addressed the issue when we had a chance to calm down. We still had two other children to think about, and they would be getting home from school soon.

We left my wife's car at the hospital, and I drove home. By the time we got there, I'd managed to calm Dolores down. We had a plan. She would stay home to wait for Alice and Tracy while I took the document to work. Marshall, Carter, and Dark had some of the best lawyers around. They could make sense of it. They could tell me what the hell was going on. So that's what we did.

They took my son, I said, lifting the papers. And they left this. I was outside the office of Mr. Dark, talking to his gatekeeper, a man named Mishkar. Mr. Dark is well aware of the situation, Mr. Jefferson, Mishkar said, coming around the desk and gesturing for me to sit on one of the plush chairs in the reception area. Yes, I talked to him earlier. He said I should come to him. if I needed help, and I need help."

Mishkar nodded solemnly. We will certainly do all we can. Mr. Dark has important business to take care of now, and he's left it to me. I can help you with this. In fact, I've already dispatched a protection team to your home. You can never be too careful. My eyes went wide. I hadn't even considered the idea that they would be coming after the rest of my family.

Was that something I needed to worry about? A protection team? I asked weekly. Yes, Mishkar said. Would you like to watch? They're all equipped with cameras. I have a live feed. I nodded. Yes. Mishkar produced a remote from a suit pocket and pressed a button. A panel on the wall split back, revealing a large television screen.

A few more button presses, and the screen was split into six different boxes, each with a different camera angle. There was nothing really to see because the team was sitting in the back of a windowless vehicle, rocking slightly on two bench seats across from each other. They were all done up in full gear, looking like a SWAT team. As soon as the vehicle rocked to a stop, they hustled out. I recognized the neighborhood immediately. They rushed into my house, calling my wife's name and saying that I sent them,

which was true in a sense. But I quickly realized something was wrong. My eyes scanned desperately across each of the six camera feeds. But there was no sign of Dolores, Alice, or Tracy. They were gone. The house is empty. There's no one here. One of the men said, could they have gone somewhere? Mishkar asked me.

I shook my head. No, my wife's vehicle is still at the hospital. Well, I'm afraid we have a bit of a situation, Mishkar said. And it may require drastic action. Lazang sur-gillet, Pucance-Moyerned 15 minutes. We're like it's the

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I'd been following the vehicles since they left the Baldwin County nuclear power plant several miles earlier. According to Marshall, Carter and Dark, it wasn't just a power plant. It was also where they'd been holding my family. I was positioned behind the fire truck next to a fenced-off electrical substation on the side of the road. Several men were tensing around me, getting. ready for the ambush. Across the street, a small country road intersected the highway at a steep angle. An armored vehicle waited just behind the tree cover in case the small convoy got past us. They would pursue and try to stop them. But we had to be careful. My family was in one of the two target

vehicles. Go now, I said. On my radio command, the lights on the fire truck lit up. It pulled out into the road, blocking both lanes just as the two-vehicle convoy was approaching. I could hear the squeal of tires as I tossed the tablet down and ran with the others to the side of the road. The lead vehicle was a black SUV. The other one was an armored transport vehicle. More of my men emerged from the bushes on the side of the road, running out and throwing a spike strip across the road behind the vehicles. We had them surrounded. They had nowhere to go. I waited a moment to see what their reaction would be. There was none. I could barely see the drivers through the reflective wind shields. There were little more than vague figures. Stepping forward, I raised my rifle and yelled out.

Release the subjects now! There was no response. We will fire on you if you do not release the subjects. I yelled. No response. This was taking too long. I was about to give the command to fire on the SUV when something caught my eye. It was something up above. from the sky. Glancing up, I saw our drone tumbling down toward the road. It smashed into the asphalt between the SUV and the fire truck, breaking into dozens of pieces. Then a helicopter streaked into view, coming at us fast and low from the direction of the nuclear power plant. Move! I said, just before the helicopter's mounted machine guns fired. Bullets tore into the asphalt as my men scattered. I ran and lunged into the trees of the side of the side of the fire. of the road. Behind me, the sound of small arms fire erupted. I got behind a tree and then turned around, ready to engage the enemy, to save my family. As I leaned around the tree behind the barrel of my rifle, I could see that all the SUV doors were open, revealing empty seats. At least two

of my men were lying dead at the side of the road, but I couldn't see any of the people from the SUV. I looked around frantically. A rustle from the woods to my left made me flinch and look that way into the barrel of a gun not more than two feet from my face the man holding the weapon was smiling he had a round patch on his armored vest a circle with three arrows pointing toward the center i dropped my weapon and put my hands up the man shook his head amateurs he said just before smacking me in the face with his rifle stock i'm strapped down in my little containment cell It took several men to subdue me, but they managed it. Foster looks at me from where he stands near the far wall.

Another man crouches next to me. He's done something to my head, just behind my left ear. At first, it was painful, but now it just feels numb. I can't see what he's doing, but I know it's nothing good. After a few minutes, he looks up at Foster and nods. Okay, should be good to go. Thank you, Foster says. Please step back.

The younger man does as he's told. Foster steps forward and lifts his damn tablet again. Tell me, he says. If you can read this now. He holds the computer up in front of my face. This time, there's writing on the screen. Letters that form words that make sentences that convey information. I read them over and over again.

My internal processes. struggling to make sense of them in a coherent manner. They say, Dear Dr. Foster, it has come to our attention that you are currently in possession of our property designated by you as SCP 3613-1-2-3 and 4. Our organization is making a formal request for the return of the following property. A Generation 3 Anderson Robotics Android

appears as, identifies as, and possessed by the spirit of a 30-9, 29-year-old female named Dolores Jefferson. A Generation 3 Anderson Robotics Android appears as, identifies as, and possessed by the spirit of a 16-year-old female named Alice Jefferson. A Generation 3 Anderson robotics android appears as, identifies as, and possessed by the spirit

of a 12-year-old female named Tracy Jefferson. A damaged Generation 3 Anderson Robotics Android appears as, identifies as, and possessed by the spirit of a seven-year-old male named Jacob Jefferson Jr. This property is to be returned at your earliest convenience. A bill for housing, recovery, and transportation costs should be presented no more than 30 business days from the receipt of this message. Sincerely, the Office of Mr. Dark. What? I say weekly. Did you really think you walked away from that crash unscathed?

Foster asks. It's impossible, I say. Foster reaches down and frees my left hand. Go ahead, he says. Feel it. I don't need to ask what he's talking about. I reach up behind my left ear. There's a crescent-shaped gap there,

as if a piece has been removed. Inside, I can feel various electronic components. There's even a cord plugged into a port, snaking down away from the bed, The younger man was changing my programming, I realized with terror, making it so I could read the messages, so I could learn the truth. Foster sighs, looking down at me. I'm sorry it has to be this way, I really am, but I can't let you go. It withstand against everything we work for here at the foundation.

That's the bad news. The good news is your family is here, and they're safe, and you can see them again soon. I look up into his eyes. Really? Oh, yes, he says. I don't know what they told you about us over at Marshall Carter in Dark, but we're not monsters, Mr. Jefferson. Although we do contain a few, Foster smiles.

Internal processes were a synthetic synapses fire, allowing me to smile back. SCP 3613 is a collection of five humanoid robots possessing the instance designations SCP 3613-1 through-5. While these instances are theoretically capable of anomalous physical and mental performance, none display abilities above that of the human baseline. These instances also express a belief that they are members of the Jefferson family, including Jacob Jefferson, a now deceased security agent employed by Marshall Carter and Dark until his death. On October 31st,

2013, Jacob Jefferson and his immediate family were the victims of a traffic accident. Every member of the family was pronounced dead at the scene except for Jacob Jefferson, who lingered for several days before succumbing to his injuries. Documentation recovered from Anderson Robotics indicates that the SCP 3613 instances are part of a family replacement program initiated by Marshall, Carter, and Dark, in order to facilitate loyalty and possibly even an age. workforce