The SCP Experience - It's Good to Be a God | SCP-5244

Episode Date: March 8, 2023

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-5244: It's Good to Be a God This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-5244, 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

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Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. A chorus of voices drones on in my left ear as my coworkers rattle through their scripts. My right ear is covered by the listening portion of my headset. A mouthpiece arcs out from it. The microphone held two inches from my mouth. wait for the computer to dial the next phone number in the system so I can get hung up on for the hundredth time today. Things could be worse. At least I have a job. As the phone

starts ringing in my right ear, a terrible headache erupts from nowhere, spreading out from the center of my brain squeezing my skull. No, I mutter, wrenching my eyes shut and cupping my head in my hands. A disembodied voice sounds in my mind. It speaks for 15 seconds, and when it's done, there's an audible whoosh of a flame on my desk. As suddenly as it came, the headache is gone again, along with the voice. Still clutching my head, I open my eyes. There's a bloody, scorched animal heart on my desk next to my keyboard. It's big, probably belongs to a cow, and it's still smoking.

Before I can even hope that this little event has gone, unnoticed, the silence in the office tells me the truth of the matter. Straightening, I look around to see all my coworkers staring at me. Many of them are standing, peering over the cubicle walls toward me. None of them tried to hide their horrified disgust. Thad! A guy named Terry calls out. Thad, it happened again! I glare at Terry, with his salesman of the year's smirk and his expensive watch and his silk Hawaiian shirt. Thad comes rushing out of his office, twisting his hips like he's speedwalking.

He stops a yard from my desk, looking at the smoldering heart there. I know, I say, standing up and throwing my headset down. Get out. Thad cries. Get out of here, you sick fuck, before I call the police. I'm moving toward the door as Thad calls. Take whatever the hell that thing is with you. I raise a hand, flipping him the bird over my shoulder.

That's it, Thad says. I hear him rush towards him. me and I waste no time running out of the office and into the parking lot, knowing Thad would kick my ass in a fight. I don't have a car, so I run across the street to a bus stop, nearly getting hit by a car as I go. I try to ignore the driver's angry yelling as I turn around on the sidewalk and see Thad standing across the street. He flips me off and then heads back inside the office building. For the millionth time, I wonder why this is happening to me. What did I do to deserve this?

When I hear the bus coming, I glance up and see the driver through the windshield. She's already looking at me, shaking her head. I look away, pretending I didn't see her. But when I step up to the door behind the two other embarking passengers, she points at me. No. She says. No, you're not coming on my bus. Not again.

I live three miles from here. Please, I say. But she's already closing the door in my face. Last time I was on the bus, a cast-iron pot full of chunky, foul-smelling liquid appeared next to me in a whoosh of flames. The voice that came along with it asked me to make sure his wife died before their divorce was finalized. The flame thing scared the driver, I guess, and she slammed on the brakes. The pot dipped over, the rancid contents spilling all over the bus. I guess I can't blame her for not letting me back on.

But I just wish I could make this sense. Stop. Whatever the hell this is. I don't know about the guy and his divorce. I don't even know who the hell he is. Or who his wife is, he never told me. Most of the voices seem to assume I know who they are, but I don't. And I don't want to know them. They're seriously fucked up people. Defeated, I begin my three-mile walk home. There's a homeless guy sitting on the sidewalk next to a boarded-up business, one of his legs is missing. I've seen him around. I still have the bus fare in my hand, and I give it to him as I pass.

Things could always be worse. I'll have to find a job where I can work from home, I guess. Which means I'll have to buy a better computer. I have no other choice now. I think about calling the police again, but they never believe me. It doesn't seem to happen when people are actually looking. looking. Besides, I don't know what the cops would do about it anyway. Maybe they could point me to a mental hospital. Maybe some kind of doctor would be interested. Surely would make their

career. I mulled this over as I walk home. When my apartment complex comes into view, all I want to do is go up to my place and sleep. But instead, I keep going. The police station is another mile down the road. The uniformed officer behind the desk asks me if he can help me with anything. I tell him, I'm waiting for someone to get here. There's a line of hard plastic seats in the lobby area, and I take one of them. No one else is around. Just me and the officer behind the desk, directly across from me. I wait for the first time ever hoping it will happen, hoping for a headache and a voice asking me to do some messed up shit, followed by a strange item appearing out of nowhere. Nothing happens.

20 minutes after I walked in, the officer asks, Do you have an appointment? No, I say. I'm waiting for someone. We'll have you talk to them? They're coming. That seems to shut him up for a little while. Minutes pass.

A few people come and go. Some lady comes in and yells at the desk officer for, five straight minutes about her neighbor playing music in the middle of the day while he works in his garage. Man, it must suck being a cop. Or at least, that cop. It's been an hour since I walked in. All right, listen, the desk cop says. You can't be hanging out here all day, okay? I'm giving you ten more minutes and then you... I scream out as my head suddenly feels like it's going to explode. Multiple voices echo in my skull. The words only half coherent. My heart. eyes feel like they're being shoved out from inside by fingers with sharp, jagged fingernails.

What's wrong with you? The cop says, but I couldn't answer even if I wanted to. I writhe, falling to the linoleum floor, gripping my head in my hands. There's a whoosh of flame close by, followed by another and another and another in quick succession, almost simultaneously. The headache disappears like a rock tossed into a pond. Looking up from the ground, I see a I see four red-skinned creatures looking down at me with large, segmented eyes, like those belonging to a fly. They have antlers sticking out of their hairless heads, but they're humanoid looking otherwise. Put your hands up!

The cop screams. I can't see his face from where I am on the floor, but I can see his arms holding his gun out in front of him, pointing it over the desk. The creatures ignore him. Two of them stepped toward me and reach down. The cop fires, hitting one of the other two creatures. The thing stumbles. Glowing green liquid leaking out of its gunshot wound.

The creature stays on its feet. It turns toward the cop and pounces, flying over the desk, before the man can get another shot off. Terrible sounds of screaming and tearing erupt from behind the desk. Blood flies, splattering the ceiling and splashing down onto the floor in front of the desk. I can hear footsteps coming from deeper in the station, and cops shouting as they run toward the sound of the gunshot. Help me!

I scream out as two of the creatures take hold. of me. Then something very odd happens. The world goes blurry, and then it seems to melt away, like a photograph thrown on a fire. Then a new scene comes into focus, smeary and grainy at first, then solidifying after a few moments. I'm standing outside, but the sky is red. Strange buildings line the street and what looks like a small town. There are blue and purple plants growing here and there. The red creatures still have hold of my arms. Three of them are here with me, and as they start dragging me backward, a fourth appears out of nowhere. It's the one the cop shot, but now its dark red skin is covered in bright red liquid, human blood. It shakes off its

arms, looking at itself in disgust. I'm dragged into a building, and it doesn't take me long to realize it's some kind of church. lines of stone pews on a dirt floor. The red light from outside comes through yellow windows to give the entire place an orange glow. The creatures bring me down the center aisle. I realize I'm about to be sacrificed to some alien god. That would be par for the course, if I'm being honest. I decide to run whenever I get the chance. Run and keep running until I can figure out a way home. I'm shoved into some kind of chair up on the stage at the front of the church. Then the two creatures let go of my arms. They stand back, their hands pressed together in front of their hearts.

They bow their heads, and then get on their knees and prostrate themselves in front of me. The fourth one comes in from outside and does all the same. What the hell is this? Tenitively, I stand up, seeing what they'll do. Nothing. They still have their heads bowed, their hands on the ground in front of them, like they're praying. or worshipping. I look back over the seat I've just vacated and see a statue of someone I recognize,

someone I see in the mirror every freaking day. It's a bronze statue of me. There are candles and pictures of red people, some with antlers and some without. There are little fancy bowls with ashes inside, and there are a bunch of other random odds and ends. It all makes sense now. I think I'm some kind of God.

I put my hands on my hips and look around, thoughts churning like a cement mixer. I wonder what the perks are. It's been two weeks since I came here, at least two weeks on this planet. The days seem shorter, but I'm not sure by how much. I'm sitting on the throne in front of a packed congregation. There's a line down the aisle of creatures waiting to bring me sacrifices. One guy comes up and hands me a cheeseburger. It took some convincing to get them to bring me real food.

For the first several days, they only brought weird cement-looking goo that smelled like a rotten gym sock someone puked in. Turns out, they eat similar stuff to humans. They just thought I wanted the weird goop stuff. Not sure why. I'd take the cheeseburger and nod at the guy. I have a sports competition coming up, the guy says. He doesn't speak English, but somehow his words translate inside my brain.

I hear his gobbledygook first. Then I hear what he's saying in English, like a voiceover translation on a news broadcast. Pretty nifty. The only problem is, they can't understand me. I guess it doesn't work both ways. Please, make me successful in my endeavor. The guy continues.

I want to crush the other team with my awesome prowess. I want to be the best player in the game. I don't know if I even have the power to grant their wishes. But so far, it hasn't. been an issue. If they don't come true, these creatures just come back with more offerings, saying that they're sorry for not giving me enough in the first place. I take a bite of the cheeseburger and chew for a few seconds, testing it. The guy glances up with his segmented eyes, wondering if his sacrifice will be enough. I swallow and then nod.

Thank you, oh holy one, he says. Thank you. He backs away, and another one comes up. A female, judging by the lack of antlers. But then the church door opens and a creature I've never seen before walks in. It's short, with green skin and small mouths where its eyes should be. There are little black wings spaced evenly all over its torso. They twitch on occasion. The creature waddles up, the other red-skinned creatures in the church looking on, clearly suspicious of this newcomer.

Hey, bro, the creature says, talking to me. Thanks for holding down the fort while I was gone. I had some stuff to take care of. I look left and right at my worshippers. They looked to me for guidance. What? I say. The green guy gestures around.

When he speaks, he does so with all three of his mouths. All this, what? Did you think it just happened to you? Ah, man, I did this. Now that I'm back, you can go home. I consider this for a moment. But I've already made my decision. No, I tell him.

Get the hell out of here. He smiles with all his mouths. You think you can take the power back? I guess we'll find out, I say, gesturing at my nearby followers. Four of them attacked the green guy immediately. Fierce, shouts and screech as erupted as they fight in the middle aisle, moving so fast I can barely keep up. Green and black liquid flies all around.

I gesture to some other followers, and they jump into the fray, screeching and tearing and fighting. Finally, the action slows in my followers part. There are three dead red creatures on the floor around the torn-up green guy. His body is in pieces, and I'm confident he won't be getting up again. I try to act solemn hiding my smile. I nod and say, Thank you, and good job, even though they can't understand me.

Still, I'm sure they get the meaning. As I take another bite of my sacrificial cheeseburger, I have a sudden idea. I think of Terry, the guy who snitched on me back at my old job. I think of his salesman of the year smirk, and his expensive watch and his silk Hawaiian shirt. I think of Thad, and how he would have beaten the hell out of me if I hadn't run across the street that day.

And I wonder how hard it would be to send a couple of my followers back to Earth, to pay Terry and Thad a little visit. I smile, take another bite, and lean back in my throne. Yes, that's just what I'll do. Maybe I'll even tag along. I smile even wider. It's good to be a god.

SCP 5244 is a 23-year-old male human, previously known as Benjamin Matthews. The subject's anomalous properties are referred to as SCP 5244-1 events, which occur around the subject seemingly at random. These events are always accompanied by an unidentified voice, audible only to the subject, often requesting some sort of gift, usually in the form of luck or guidance. Less frequently, the message will thank SCP 5244 for answering one of the previous requests.

To date, the subject has been unable to fulfill any of these requests. Shortly after the message is received, a small burst of flame will appear in the immediate area surrounding SCP 5244, followed by an item intended for sacrifice.