The SCP Experience - It's a Trap | SCP-157

Episode Date: December 1, 2021

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-157: It's a Trap Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-157, and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drscp #scp #scpfoundation #doctorscp #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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They all looked immaculate. There were a couple of mansions with pristine yards and Olympic-sized pools. There was what looked to be a library and a museum, and a host of other buildings that all looked like they belonged in Manhattan or downtown Chicago. And not one of them had been there yesterday. I don't know yet, Walters, I said. Bring me up to speed again. I like to hear everything twice.

Oh, and sit down if you like. Yes, boss, Walter said. That field, but what had been a field, is located in central Texas between Dallas and Austin. The closest town is a little one called Penelope, population under 300, but it's also not far from Interstate 35, which is a busy highway. I nodded. I had grown up in Texas. Of course, Walters didn't know that. I preferred to keep work at work and my personal life at home. Apparently the field belongs to a big-shot landowner out there. Walter's continued.

Guy named Rick Richardson, if you can believe that. He's got a couple of pump jacks in the area, but none on that particular tract. And who found the buildings? One of Richardson's men found them this morning, called it into his boss. This Richardson fellow called the local sheriff. And, of course, we have a man inside with the sheriff's office. I studied the layout of the buildings. they were positioned in such a way that there would have been a crossroads between the buildings,

but there were no roads. Only untouched stretches of wild grass and a few shrubs. Had there been a crossroads there, it would have looked much like the downtown area of that town Penelope that Walters had mentioned. Only thing was that most small towns didn't have fancy mansions, making up half the buildings in the downtown area. Who do we have out there? Anyone? I asked. Well, here's where it gets fun, Walter said, finally sitting down in one of the two chairs that faced my desk. We sent two guys out there from a Dallas satellite office. Of course, they got there after the sheriff. But you can probably guess what I'm about to say next. I rolled my eyes.

The sheriff's big footing it. You got it. Our guys are being stonewalled. Meanwhile, the sheriff, a couple of his men, and even Richardson are out there walking around in these buildings. You've got to be kidding me, I said. No, sir, not kidding. Any anomalous happenings yet? I asked. None reported yet. I stood up from my desk.

All right, let's get moving. Who do we have on site right now that we can bring? Walter stood up. His weather-beaten face thoughtful as he considered. After a moment, he had an answer. We've got Williams and Flair from infectious diseases. They're both level three. We can bring Dietrich. He's an all-around badass with any kind of fieldwork. He's also level three.

And then we have a handful of Class D personnel that we can bring. Plus a couple of grunts to oversee the Class D's. Then you and me make levels four and five, I said, nodding. Let's do it. We're off in 10 minutes. Yes, boss, Walter said. He turned and walked quickly out of my office, pulling his radio up from his belt as he went. I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and pulled my SCP Foundation badge and my Glock 22 in its clip-on holster from my desk drawer. I put the badge on the left side of my belt just over my left front pocket and my firearm on my right hip. I picked up my tablet from my desk and cycled through the photos again. I had a bad feeling about this one, but I shrugged it off. It was also my very first field operation as a site commander.

Although I'd been in the SCP Foundation for nearly 20 years, I still got nervous when going out into the field to face the unknown. My mentor, and the man whose job I took when he retired, had told me once that the nerves were a good thing. He'd said that if you didn't feel nervous going out into the field, you shouldn't be a commander. Maybe he was right, but I still didn't like it. The helicopter ride took over an hour.

myself, Walters, and the researchers flew in one, while the Class D personnel and their handlers flew in another. While we flew, I tried to get our minds ahead of the game. What does this sound like to you, Williams? I asked one of the researchers in the seat across for me. He was a slim guy with a shaved head and large hands. He had a kind of surety to him. I'd known him for several years. He was capable and very smart. I've never heard of anything like this. William's said. I couldn't begin to guess. If you had to guess, closest thing, let's talk it out, I said, pushing him to respond. Well, he said, I've heard of large things appearing, but they're almost always ephemeral in nature, lasting a very short time. I know what ephemeral

means. Right, of course. You ever heard of building showing up like this? I asked. Even for a short time, minutes, even seconds? No. I can't say I have, William said. Have you ever heard of SCP-157? Flair, the other researcher, asked. I shook my head. It doesn't ring a bell. Not those again?

William said with disgust. Will you just let them go? You're obsessed with them. There's no way these buildings have anything to do with SCP 157. There would have to be billions of them. Theoretically, they could be. Flair started. But he wouldn't meet William.

Williams' gaze. Theoretically, Williams said, anything could be. Theoretically, God himself could have put the buildings there. Believe me, this has nothing to do with SCP 157. I was about to ask for an explanation about SCP 157 when Walters leaned over and tapped me on the shoulder. Boss, we've got a problem, he said, pointing at his radio headset. Apparently one of the sheriff's deputies has been injured in one of the buildings.

The sheriff's other men want to go in and get him, but our SCP guys aren't letting them. They're in a standoff. There may be several dead men by the time we get there. Oh, hell, I said. What a mess. I spent the rest of the ride reviewing files on the sheriff, his men, and Richardson. We landed in a field about 100 yards away from the perimeter around the buildings, which was really nothing more than a bunch of marked and unmarked cruisers and a few trucks.

I ran all the way to the cluster of men standing some 30 yards from the buildings. They were all still pointing guns at each other. Back at the chopper, my men were unloading the equipment we needed. Sheriff Fredericks, I said, walking up to the man I'd recognized from the file I'd read on my tablet. I made sure to keep my hands away from my weapon as I approached. I tried my best to put an embarrassed smile on my face. There were three SCP agents there, all looking angry, still pointing their guns at the sheriff's which included five deputies and the sheriff himself.

A few guys in plain clothes that I took to be Richardson and his men also had weapons pointed at the hopelessly outnumbered SCP agents. It was sheer dumb luck that they hadn't already been gunned down. I stepped right in front of the sheriff, between his gun barrel and the SCP agent he was pointing it at. I held out my hand. Sir, my name's Commander James Bridges of the SCP Foundation. I hear you have a man down in one of these people.

buildings, we're here to help. I knew that I was risking contamination by offering to shake the man's hand. If he'd been in any of the buildings or even touched them, he could be infected. But I knew the type, and I needed both his respect and cooperation, so I kept my hand out. The sheriff, a big man with a beer belly, mutton chops, and a wide-brimmed black cowboy hat, looked at me with half-closed eyes and the unbelieving look that cops develop after many years on the job. I turned slightly and called out to the SCP agents. Put the weapons down. They did as they were told, but they didn't look too happy about it. Finally, Sheriff Fredericks lowered his weapon. He turned and nodded to the rest of his men to lower theirs. They did, but they kept them in their hands.

He shook my hand. I've never heard of no SCP Foundation, he said. I smiled. Good. Then we're doing our jobs. Now, tell me about your man. Which building is he in? I'll send some of my people inside in hazmat suits. We just don't know if these buildings are dangerous yet, so we need to take proper precautions. No, I'll send my men in right now, Frederick said. He's my man, and I'll be the one to get him out of there. How about this? I said. How about I send some of my men in with some of yours? That way we're were both getting what we want. Fine, he said. My men were walking up with the equipment from the helicopters, and I ordered two of the researchers and all of the Class D personnel to suit up.

I wanted Flair to stay with me. I wanted to hear more about the SCP he mentioned in the helicopter before Williams interrupted him. So when was the last time you heard from your man? I asked the sheriff. His name is Cooper, and he radioed in the last time about 20 minutes ago, said his foot went through the floor and that he was bleeding real bad, said he couldn't walk. No one else was in there with him, I asked. Nope. Some of my men were already out here, and the rest of us came out when your boys showed up and started making trouble.

Frederick's gestured at the three SCP agents who had arrived before us. So you have been in the buildings? Yeah, of course. We wanted to check to make sure no one was in them. Did you see anything strange? No. Just some fancy empty. buildings. No furniture or anything inside them? No, they're empty inside. As if they're waiting for people

to move in. Okay, thank you, Sheriff. Let's go get your man. My men were suited up and ready to go. I brought Dietrich over where I could talk to him without others hearing. I told him to follow protocol, to be careful, and that he was in charge out there. Walters would stay with me. I watched as the group of men, half of them mine and half of them the sheriffs, made their way toward the buildings. Dietrich had a camera built into his helmet, and I pulled up the feet on my tablet. One of the SCP agents from the Dallas office came up to me as the men were approaching the mansion with the deputy inside. Sir, I need to tell you something, he said. What is it?

What the sheriff said earlier about his man? It wasn't exactly accurate. I heard the call come through over the radio. The man didn't say that his foot went through the floor. He said that the floor swallowed his foot. Swallowed? I asked. That terrible feeling rising up in my stomach like rotten food coming back up. You're sure that's what he said?

Yes. I heard it as clear as if he was standing right where you are. Okay, thank you, son. I knew I was breaking all kinds of protocols by sending my men into one of those buildings without first performing a range of tests on them. But the sheriff and his men weren't going to wait. They would have gone in regardless. Better that my men were in there in case something happened. It was a decision that I had to make on the fly with what little information I had.

And I was starting to regret it. I lifted the tablet and watched on the screen as the group walked to the door of the mansion. I could see the deputy on the floor in the middle of the giant entryway, just inside the door. The other deputies ran up to him. Dietrich followed, telling them to approach with caution. They didn't listen. As Dietrich got closer, I could see that both of the man's legs seemed to disappear into the floor below the knees. Almost as if there were holes there that fit his legs perfectly, he was unconscious.

But I couldn't see any blood on the flooring around his legs. Maybe they had just fallen through, I thought. A couple of the other deputies grabbed their unconscious man under the armpits and pulled him up. He came away easily, but the bottom half of his legs were gone, chewed down to bloody nubs. There were two holes in the floor where his legs had been, but the edges of them were moving. Dietrich got closer, looking down at the holes. Around the edges, the floor changed color, and there seemed to be thousands of tiny critters crawling around there.

Tell them to get out! Flair said from over my shoulder, I hadn't even been aware that he was watching. I turned to him, startled. What is it? I was right. It's SCP 157. Tell him to get out now. I pulled up my radio and spoke into it. Get everyone out of there now, Dietrich. Copy.

Dietrich said. He then started shouting at the men. They didn't need much prodig. They'd all seen the creatures around the holes. I watched on the tablet as Dietrich followed the group of men out. The deputies carried their man between them. I looked up from the tablet as they raced out of the mansion, which seemed to be crumbling behind them. They made it out into the space between the buildings, but the structures all started to change. They were crumbling, losing their shape somehow. The men ran toward the edge of the buildings, trying to escape whatever the hell was happening.

The buildings around them changed to a gray-brown color and seemed to go from solid to liquid as they crashed down around the men like ocean waves, enveloping them as they tried to get free. The creatures swarmed around the group of men. Muffled screams escaped the swarm at first, but they were. It didn't last long. Even though I could no longer see any of the men, I knew they were all dead. They're evolving! Flair said in a shocked voice from beside me. They've never made structures that big before! The sheriff was looking at me, his mouth hanging open in silent disbelief. Richardson and his men stared at the dwindling mass of creatures. I would have to make them all forget. We had

plenty of Class A amnestics for that. It was a trap, I said. We did. We did. We did. We did. We did. We'd have to make them all forget. We had. We had plenty of Class A amnestics for that. It was a trap, I said. We did just what they wanted us to do. We went in with a group large enough for them to get a good meal. Where the buildings had once been, there was now a quickly shrinking mass of gray-brown creatures. There must be billions of them, Flair said, trillions even. How do we contain them? I said. How do we stop them from leaving? Flair snorted. We don't. Not with the equipment we brought. You're too damn small. When they separate, they're as good as invisible. My God, said, it was a trap, and we walked right into it.

SCP-157 is a previously unknown microscopic animal in the tardigrade phylum, adapted to live on land as a predator. Like other tardigrades, SCP-157 is extremely resistant to environmental damage and can enter a cryptobiotic state when no food is present. SCP-157 normally exists as an amorphous mass composed of millions of individual organisms. In this form, it can slowly crawl and climb. SCP-157 colonies possess an innate telepathic ability, when in the presence of prey that is too large to directly attack,

the SCP-157 colony will use telepathy to present the illusion of something its prey wants to eat, wear or apply to its body. Recent experiences suggest that SCP-157 colonies are revolving to attract larger groups of prey, including humans and other large mammals. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-moleaned for 15 minutes.

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