The SCP Experience - No Rest for the Weary | SCP-966

Episode Date: August 19, 2022

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-966: No Rest for the Weary This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-966, 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

Lazzang sur-gillet, and thence-molyne for 15 minutes. Oh, you'd say that's the Dojo? Prere to play? Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo. The casino in-line

that proposes the most recent machine-a-sou and the game of casino in direct. Profite of 50 tours on Big Bas Bonanza, without the payment instantane.

Hey, I've gained! Woohoo! Scentire the pleasure! Play-Ojo! 18 and plus, 1,1, first depots only depots in Ontario.

50 tours on the machine-a-sou B'Bass Bonanza. Depos Minimimum of 10 dollars. Veillage me, in a fashion responsible. The conditions apply. The rifle kicks as I fire it blindly into the pitch black woods. I blink.

Missing the momentary illumination put forth by the muscle flash. It wouldn't have helped me anyway. Clutching the rifle in my right hand, I scoot along the ground on my butt, moving with my left hand and my feet. The wound on my right leg throbs. Continuing to spill blood out, soaking my pant leg.

A whimper. Followed by a gurgling sound comes from the woods. Then the ripping starts up again. Stephen! I shout out. Stephen! Answer me, God damn it! The only answer is the ripping sound.

The whimpering has stopped, so as the gurgling. I back up into a tree. I know I should move around it, but I don't. The exhaustion is total. My limbs feel as if they're tied to 50-pound weights. My eyes sting and my mouth is dry. My thoughts are frantic, erupting, and dissolving in my mind before they can come to full fruition. My head aches, and my heart pounds too hard, shaking my entire body.

The thing I want most in the world is sleep. Just five minutes of sleep. They won't let me sleep. When they're finished with Stephen, they'll come for me. I clutched the rifle to my chest, peering into the black forest. seeing nothing. There's only one thing that can help me now. One thing that was last in Stephen's hand. I pulled up to Stevens' house at 6.15 on the dot. The sun was just coming up over the eastern horizon as I put the SUV in park and took a sip of my coffee. The red front door of Stephen's ranch-style

house opened, outstepped Aaron, sullen and sleepy. He was wearing sunglasses despite the lack of sun, and he was dressed as if going to a hotel instead of on a camping trip. This is going to be interesting, I said, noting his skin-tight jeans, unmarred sneakers, and his thin brown leather jacket. I hoped he had some more appropriate clothes than the two bags he carried. At least one bag was a hiking backpack. The other was a man purse that matched Aaron's leather jacket. Stephen came out behind the young man, carrying a pack and his rifle in its case. He was dressed appropriately for hiking in cold weather with broken in boots,

a north-faced jacket, and moisture-resistant cargo pants. He looked at me, then at Aaron, then rolled his eyes. I chuckled. Stephen had made no bones about his dislike for his daughter's boyfriend. They'd met at college, and his daughter, Megan, insisted it was serious. It was her idea for the kid to come on our annual Thanksgiving hunting trip. A little bonding time. Aaron stepped to the back of the SUV and stood there for a moment.

I watched him in the rearview mirror. A little help, please, he called out to me. Like he expected me to get out and open the back hatch for him. This kid's a piece of work, I whispered to myself. What's the matter? Stephen asked, stepping up beside the kid. Never opened a door before? Aaron scoffed and threw his backpack into the vehicle

as soon as Stephen opened the hatch. He got into the backseat with his man purse and slumped down, pouting. He didn't want to come with us any more than we wanted him to. He had the long, greasy hair of an amateur musician. He also had a few piercings in his ears and a tattoo poking out above the collar of his leather jacket. I had a few tattoos myself. But I'd always found neck tattoos tacky, but to each his own.

I'm Darren, I said, waving a hand as I looked at Aaron in the rearview mirror. Yeah, thanks for the help, Darren, he said. I chuckled and shook my head as the kid glared at me. Aaron slept most of the drive, which was fine with Stephen and I. We'd been friends since meeting in high school, but now lived in different cities. so the annual hunting trip was often the only time we got together during the year. So we spent the three-hour drive catching up. Stephen told me about a new toy he bought for night hunting.

It was an infrared night vision monocular, and he was excited to try it out. We geared up and got on the trail a little after 9.30. To our surprise, Aaron dug out some hiking boots and put them on, but he still wore his skin-tight jeans and his light leather jacket. You pack some warmer clothes, I asked, as we started away from the car and into the awaiting pine trees. I'll be fine, he said. I've been camping before.

Are you sure it wasn't glamping? I asked. Ha ha, he replied, without humor. I had my pack snugly on my back and my Remington 700 rifle slung over my shoulder. Inhaling the brisk mountain air, I felt at peace. This was right where I was supposed to be. Three days out in the woods was just what I needed to leave the stresses of my everyday life behind. We didn't see any deer on the hike to our first campsite.

In fact, we didn't see any animals aside from some birds and a single squirrel. After we made camp in the mid-afternoon, Stephen and I headed out with our rifles and daypacks, leaving Aaron behind to sulk in his tent. What the hell does Megan see in that guy? I asked when we were out of hearing range. Stephen shook his head. I don't, no.

He stopped suddenly and brought his left hand up to his head, his face twisting in pain. In the same instance, I felt an abrupt and breathtaking headache seat itself deep inside my brain. I staggered, putting my hand against a tree to steady myself. Then, as suddenly as it came, the headache vanished, leaving me feeling sick and wobbly. But soon enough, I felt like myself again.

Stephen let his hand drop, his face going back to normal. What the hell? He said, looking at me. You felt that too? I nodded. Yeah, I said. That was weird. Altitude headache?

Stephen shook his head. I've never had an altitude headache like that. We both looked around the forest, as if we'd gleaned some clue from the wilderness. Should we go back? I said. You crazy? Stephen said. I don't know what that was, but I'm not letting it ruin this trip. Maybe if it comes back, he trailed off. Yeah, I said, turning to continue up the trail.

We went a quarter mile before Stephen spoke again. I really don't know what Megan sees in him. It's not like he treats her much better than he's been treating us. She'll figure it out, I said. We stayed out until an hour before sunset, but we didn't see any deer. When we got back to camp, Aaron had a fire going. He'd looked like he wanted to be anywhere but here. You managed to take a nap?

Stephen asked. Aaron glared up at him. I couldn't sleep, he said. Well, I'm going to sleep like a baby after all the hiking We did today, Stephen said. I had this weird headache, Aaron said, almost as if talking to himself. Stephen and I looked at each other in the light from the fire, but we didn't say anything about our headaches.

We ate dinner and then retired to our respective tents, letting the fire burn down on its own. I tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. From what I could hear, the other two guys didn't fare much better. I got out of my tent before dawn, knowing it was no use. The day was strange. We barely spoke to each other. Both Stephen and Aaron said they hadn't slept well. I shrugged it off.

Stephen and I spent most of the day off in the woods, looking for game and finding not even a sign of any deer. In the afternoon, I tried to take a nap back at camp, but I couldn't get to sleep. I went out again on my own once it was clear I wouldn't be getting any rest. And as I left camp, I suffered another one of those strange, severe headaches that came and went in less than a minute. My luck was no better alone than it had been with Stephen. I saw no deer. I didn't even see any rabbits, just a few birds, some squirrels, and a chipmunk or two. I came back to camp to find Aaron and Stephen sitting, staring into space around the sun.

small fire. We ate dinner in silence, and I retired to my tent before the sun was fully set. I was pretty tired from the day's activity, but I found that I couldn't sleep. I couldn't even get close. It was as if I had downed an energy drink right before getting into my tent. I heard movement from the other two tents. It sounded like Stephen had gotten out of his, but I didn't hear him return. After lying in my tent for nearly three hours, I pulled on extra layers, donned my boots, and got out of the tent. There were still coals in the fire pit, so I put some small sticks on them and built the fire back up. I sat and watched the flames, mesmerized by them. The sound of a branch snapping behind me got me up on my feet. I peered into the darkness

outside the firelight. My night vision momentarily ruined by staring at the flames. Another branch snapped, this one closer. I reached down and snagged my flashlight from the ground, clicking it on and shining it out into the woods. Stephen stood there, face blank, eyes unseeing. My lurching heart calmed as I saw my friend. But the look on his face gave me chills. What are you doing? I asked. How long have you been out here? Stephen tilted his head toward the sky, pointing his hand up. It's broken, he said. I looked up, unable to see anything but the undersides of dark, pine needle-laden branches. What's broken? It split open. I saw it split open, Stephen said.

I shook my head and guided Stephen back to his tent. Just as I was getting him inside, a scream ripped through the night air from Aaron's tent. As I ran over, the tent wall started bowing out as Aaron thrashed inside, still screaming bloody murder. I unzipped the tent, throwing the flap aside. Aaron screamed and lashed out at me with a small pocket knife, slicing my hand open. Son of a bitch, I said, pulling my injured left hand back. The kid seemed to snap out of it, looking around like he was just coming out of a nightmare. Where'd it go?

He asked. Where did it go? Where did what go? There's nothing there. I snapped, inspecting the cut of my hand. It wouldn't need stitches, thank goodness. Oh, hell no! Aaron said, scrambling out of his tent.

No! He screamed, then ran off into the woods, dressed only in long underwear and socks. Come back here! I called, half-heartedly. I figured he wouldn't get very far without shoes or warm clothes. But I was wrong. Where's he going? Stephen said. What the hell is happening?

You tell me, I said, heading back over to my tent for my first aid kit. I bandaged my hand while Stephen called for Aaron. With each passing minute, I grew more concerned that he'd had some kind of psychotic break and walked himself off a cliff or something. Once I had my hand bandaged up, I packed up some essentials in my daypack, including some of Aaron's warm clothes. I'll go find him, I said. I'll go with you, he said.

I looked at him hard for a long moment. What were you doing? Standing in the woods like that. Talking about something breaking open. Stephen shook his head. It was a nightmare, he said. I must have been sleepwalking. You ever sleepwalked before?

Not that I know of, he said. I sighed. We better get after that. the little asshole. Stephen took a minute to gear up and grab his daypack. With my rifle over my shoulder and Stephen behind me, I headed into the woods with my flashlight and my left hand. We called for Aaron every minute or so, but never heard an answer. After about 15 minutes of searching, I heard movement in the woods to my right. I stopped, shining my light that way. Did you hear that? Stephen asked. I nodded. Suddenly, another.

headache erupted in my skull. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. I went down to my knees and dropped my flashlight so I could grip my head with both hands. Then it was gone. I picked up my flashlight and turned to look at Stephen. It was also on his knees. Again, I asked. He nodded, breathing hard. Up ahead in the woods, Aaron screamed. I got my feet under me and moved through the woods as quickly as I dared. I found Aaron clutching a tree, blabbering about something hunting him. Stephen had followed, and he moved in to comfort Aaron. A light in the forest caught my attention, causing me to turn away from Aaron.

It looked like a small sun was hovering among the trees a few hundred yards away. I moved toward it, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. I was vaguely aware that Aaron's screaming had stopped abruptly behind me, replaced by a thumping sound, but I paid it little mind. Instead, I approached the miniature sun, stopping only when it split open, pouring lava out onto the forest floor. The trees ignited, creating a wall of flames that grew exponentially until it seemed to reach thousands of feet into the air. As I was looking up at the wall of fire, a pain erupted on the right side of my leg. I cried out and looked to see a slash through my pants and a gouge in my leg. I looked around, searching for signs of what

could have cut me, but I saw nothing. The wall of flames was suddenly gone. I was standing in the middle of a dark forest, the only light coming from my flashlight. I'm seeing things, I thought. This isn't good. I swallowed hard and turned around, limping and searching in the dark for Stephen and Aaron. Fear constricted and jumbled my thoughts. I knew whatever was happening was connected to the headaches and the sleepless nights. But beyond that, I hadn't a clue what the hell was going on. My flashlight beam finally picked out Stephen from the shoulders up. He was crouched on the ground, breathing heavily, his eyes wide and hollow. I moved the beam down to see Aaron lying just in front of Stephen. His head had been smashed in. His face.

pulverized beyond recognition. Stephen held a blood-covered rock in his right hand. What did you do? I whispered. Stephen looked down at the young man's body. He looked at the rock in his hand, and he threw up, vomiting on Aaron's chest. A terrible screeching sound came from the forest. I jerked at the noise, looking around with my flashlight. Whatever was making the sound was close.

Stephen scrambled up and moved over toward me. I stepped away and unslunged my rifle. Stop, I told my friend. Don't come near me. Before Stephen could respond, Aaron's body started moving. But it wasn't moving on its own. It was being dragged quickly away by some unseen force. What the fuck is happening?

Stephen was digging through his backpack about ten feet away from me. I kept one wary eye on him and another on Aaron's body, as it was dragged further into the forest. Stephen pulled out a small black device, and I suddenly remembered what he told me on the drive up. It was his new toy, an infrared monocular for night hunting. He brought it up to his right eye

and peered toward Aaron's body. His mouth twisted into a sneer, and he took in a sharp breath. What the fuck is that? He said in a high-pitched voice. What? I said. Then something hit me, hard. My flashlight went flying out of my.

hand and smashed into a tree, the light dying even before I tripped and hit the ground. The impact made me drop my rifle, but I scrambled around and found it again quickly. Stephen screamed out in the darkness. It was a scream of pain and terror. Something moved ahead of me. A ripping sound came from the darkness. Stephen? I asked. No answer. I sensed something coming at me. I fired the rifle, blinking as the muzzle flash illuminated the woods for a split second. It wouldn't have helped me anyway. If I couldn't see them with my flashlight,

I wouldn't be able to see them with a muzzle flash. I scooted backward along the ground, the wound in my right leg still spilling blood, soaking my pants. A whimper, followed by a gurgling sound, came from the woods. Then the ripping started up again. Stephen! I screamed. Stephen! Answer me, god damn it! The only thing was...

was the ripping sound. The whimpering stopped. I backed up into a tree. I knew I should move around it, but I couldn't find the energy. My limbs felt as if they were tied to 50-pound weights. My eyes stung and my mouth was dry. Instead of two sleepless nights, I felt like I'd been awake for a week straight. Through my frantic thoughts, I fixated on one thing I thought could help me. One thing that was last in Stephen's hand. the night vision monocular device. Now, I sit against the tree, breathing hard, reliving the past two days. I stand on my knees and move to where I think my flashlight ended up.

I can sense the things around me, but I can only hope they're busy with Aaron and Stephen. Clutching the rifle in my right hand, I feel along the ground for the flashlight. I need it to find the monocular. My hand closes on the flashlight, and I feel it to see if it's intact. It feels like the top has loosened just enough to turn it off. So I tighten it, and the light comes on. I sweep it around the woods, seeing only trees and the bloody rock that Stephen used to kill Aaron. Finally, I see the monocular on the ground about 15 yards away.

I stand up and limp over to it, putting the flashlight down and picking the thing up, Bringing it up to my right eye, I look through it and see the woods in shades of gray, black, and white. Ten yards away, a slender, pale, humanoid figure with long claws and razor-sharp teeth slips behind a tree, hiding. I sweep it in an arc, looking for more of the things, holding my breath. Something moves behind me, I spin around, still keeping the device to my eye, and see Stephen standing directly behind me. His skin has been flayed from his arms and face. It hangs in long threads from his body, exposing the meat and bone underneath. He falls to his knees, revealing a creature behind him,

smiling with its razor teeth and its craggy, demented face. I scream and raise the rifle, but it's far too late. The teeth sink into my face. Then there are more upon me, tearing my flush to ribbons. The pain tells me this is no hallucination. This is real. This is how I will die. SCP 966 are predatory creatures that resemble hairless, digit-grade humans, possessing an elongated face with a mouth lined with needle-like teeth.

On each hand, they have five claws that can be up to 20 centimeters long. SCP-966's height ranges from 4.5 to 5.5 feet, and they can reach up to 60 pounds in weight. Physically, SCP 966 are weak, possessing hollow bones and low. muscular density. SCP-966 are visible only at infrared wavelengths. This applies to all of SCP-966's tissues. SCP 966 feed on medium-to-large-sized animals, including humans. They hunt either alone or in pairs.

Their hunting methods consist of emitting a single burst of a previously unknown type of wave, which permanently inhibits the ability of the affected creature to enter any of the NRA and REM sleep stages. The ability to micro sleep is also lost. The effective range of the waves is up to 60 feet. However, tests show that they can be blocked by post-transition metals, particularly lead. After depriving the victims of sleep, SCP-966 will stalk their prey until the lack of rest incapacitates it. At this point, SCP-966 will proceed to consume it. SCP 966 have proved to be very agile and silent while stalking their victims. On occasion, they will deliberately make threatening noises around the prey in order to further stress

it, and may even physically assault it if the victim proves to be particularly durable. Other than the common symptoms caused by sleep deprivation, some victims of SCP 966 have shown signs of suffering from extremely vivid hallucinations, as well as sudden bouts of rage with no apparent external stimuli. It is currently thought that these are the effects of prolonged exposure to the waves. Why SCP-966 continually exposes these waves to only some of their victims is unknown.

One hypothesis is that SCP 966 will only do this when starving, since it further degenerates the physical and mental state of their prey, incapacitating it at a faster rate.