The SCP Experience - Once You See the Statue, You Will Leap to Your Death | SCP-5628

Episode Date: February 26, 2024

Want to listen ad-free? Try it FREE for 7 days here: patreon.com/TheSCPExperience SCP Foundation SAFE class anomaly, SCP-5628: Once You See the Statue, You Will Leap to Your Death This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-5628 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Ryan Major Check out more of his work here: https://www.reddit.com/r/gtripp14/ * * * 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

Have you ever seen a look of absolute serenity? It is strange to behold. It's terrifying and alien, if I'm honest. The concept that someone would be so devoid of anxiety and worry is an alien thought to me. Almost every minute of my waking life and a fair bit of my fitful sleep is filled with an all-encompassing sensation that the world will fall to pieces at a moment's notice without my absolute effort and concentration. A serene moment is a foreign thought.

Nevertheless, I have seen faces overcome with that absolute serenity. An easy smile spreads across their face. Almost every one of them has their eyes closed. There isn't a care in the world to them. As unrelatable as it is, I envy them. Until the moment they meet the unforgivable impact with the ground, even as their bodies break on the asphalt, limbs, hyper-extending into painful new angles, they still smile.

My investigators always take photos of their faces. It isn't always possible due to damage from the fall, but when their face is still intact, I'm mesmerized by how blissful and unencumbered they look to their very end. Such is the effect of SCP 5628. My team and I had been sitting in the meeting room of Site 202 for the past two hours. debriefing the staff on the recent escape of the anomaly. It was such a simple thing.

Standing less than 16 inches, the anomaly was a marble statue of an angel, gripping a tiny sword. When viewed directly, the statue would take flight just slightly above the ground and point the sword at the person watching. If an exit is visible to SCP 5628, it will then attempt to escape.

The affected subject will soon thereafter begin to feel what they describe as the sensation of flight. When viewing the sky, they become compelled to attempt to take flight themselves. Some mention a desire to climb to the highest point available and jump from the edge. Others may only want to leap from the top of a bookshelf. Most often, their survival instincts will keep them from attempting this. But as a safety precaution, subjects are kept under strict observation for 24 hours. They are also provided a copy of Mind Over Metaphysics by the foundation's own Dr. Heathcliff.

The combination of confinement and the reading material nullifies the effects of viewing the angel in 95% of cases. I've never read the book, but it seems to do the trick. For years, the anomaly had remained safely contained in a secured locker at Site 202, but at some point in the recent past,

the anomaly was able to escape and avoid detection. No one is sure how it was able to escape. More concerning, the effects of viewing the anomaly had transitioned from a mild compulsion to a suicidal tendency. Gone were the days of uncontrollable urges. Anyone who viewed the statue would leap to their death, never giving any indication they had seen the statue until it was too late. The situation after 5628 escaped was out of control

and the O5 Council directed me to meet with leadership at Site 202 to find a solution to the issue. A group of men and women lined both sides of a conference table as the images of shattered bodies flashed across a projection screen on the far wall. They shifted uneasily as the slideshow continued. Videos were first, followed by still photos of the aftermath. I could see the discomfort chiseled into their faces. It is out of character for most people to sit quietly. when you're admonishing them like children.

But they have caused the death of over a dozen Foundation employees over the last four weeks. Most foundation personnel understand that events of this magnitude will bring unwanted attention. Investigator Dearborn, I said calmly to the man beside me. Please prepare the video for Incident 7. The man to my left, August Dearborn, lifted a remote toward the screen on the wall

and pressed the play button. Grainy footage crackled to life before settling on a video of a young man walking down the hallway of the fourth floor in the D-class housing complex for Site 202. The camera zoomed in on his face, showing a gleeful expression. When he reached the end of the hall, he unlatched the locks on the window and lifted it open before looking out toward the sky. His hands rested on the frame, and he leaned out for a moment. his back, the only thing remaining in the camera view. After a moment, he held his arms out to his side and careened forward, vanishing from sight. The video ended and a still photo of the man, Vincent Wells, appeared on the screen.

He had fallen four stories. His arms and legs were shattered, jutting out at abstract angles. What remained of his head was a fine red pulp. There was no joyous expression as we had discovered in most of the other cases. Down the table, a man in a white lab coat dashed from his chair to a trash can in the corner and began to vomit. A woman sitting next to him walked over, rubbing his back and guiding him back to his chair. He settled down and ran a sleeve over his mouth. Are you not enjoying this, sir? I asked, contempt simmering in my words. Stand up and tell me your name. The man stood and faced the room, looking uncertain. I am Maxwell. Oh, Bannon, he choked out, dapping at the corners of his mouth with the sleeve again.

I serve as head of research for SEP 5628 and overall director of Site 202. I know the situation seems out of control, but we have our best security personnel working to track down the anomaly as we speak. I let out a long sigh, and my temples throbbed with frustration. Dr. Bannon, I said, attempting to present a pleasant. tone. It would be in your best damn interest to find this anomaly, or else your job and pension will be on the chopping block. Bannon looked toward me, brows furrowed, and skin red with rage. Let me tell you something, Mr. Dr. Bannon trailed off.

What is your name? You didn't even have the courtesy to introduce yourself to my staff before you came in here slinging your insults and accusations. My name, sir, is Clark Paulson. I said flatly. The look of rage on the man's face shifted quickly to worry and further on to dread. As I would imagine you know, I am the director of internal investigations for the foundation. While I usually manage my investigations remotely, I am known to enter the field to assist when a particularly large issue has arisen. Dr. Bannon sank back into his chair.

A red hue of rage and embarrassment swept over his. face. He was far from the first foundation member I had dressed down in front of his subordinates, but there was an undeniable satisfaction in it. More often than not, when an event occurred in any of our facilities, the director would immediately report the issue to superiors and reach out for help. That wasn't the case for Dr. Bannon. The escape of SCP 5628 was only reported after the death toll became unignorable. Senior research staff, in direct defiance of Bannon's order, contacted my department and the council in secret.

I had assumed he would take on a more apologetic posture upon my team's arrival, but until this moment, he had held his head high. His level of incompetence was infuriating. New security protocols will be implemented beginning today, and I want you all to... I began to say, but my words were cut off when a woman on the left side of the table

began to scream. She was pointing toward the paneled, window on the outer wall of the conference room. Everyone in the room started to motion, jumping from their chairs to look outside. The sky was a dull gray, and clouds stretched across the horizon. Trees swayed in the distance, their naked branches reaching toward the sky like skeletal hands. The scene was nothing out of the ordinary. I was preparing to turn toward the woman and ask what caused the outburst when I finally saw it. A body, arms outstretched, plummeted past the window.

SCP 5628 has appeared within Site 202. A voice boomed through the intercom system. All personnel are to take cover in any available room with Maglock security. Use any available materials in the room to cover windows or openings. Visual contact with the anomaly is to be avoided at all costs. Beavis a board of Via Rai. Embarked and profited. Embarked and relax.

Syrotay. Bookine. Oh, that also. And profite. Via Rae, the voice we love. Another body dropped past the window, and I stepped toward it. A loud buzz followed by a metallic snap sounded behind me, and I knew the magnetic door lock system was trying to engage.

A warning siren sounded above the door, and the snapping noise clicked to life a few more times. The seal, it seemed, had failed to connect, and the door to the conference room wouldn't secure. My heart hammered, and the thrum of my pulse rattled in my ears. We need to secure the room, Investigator Dearborn said flatly. He pointed at two of the men cowering at the far end of the table. You two, move the table against the door.

The maglock failed to engage, and we don't need that damn thing fluttering in here. Deerborn walked toward the door, keeping his eyes directed at the ground. He pulled down the rolling blinds to cover the small window near the top. Reluctantly, the two men grabbed both ends of the heavy table and began to slide it toward the door. There was a small gap between the frame of the door, and I could see personnel running through the corridor searching for cover. My eyes locked with the passerby, and they stopped suddenly. Their fingers slid into the gap of the open door as relief and excitement washed over their face. Hey!

They shouted to the other scattering down the corridor. Hey, this door isn't sealed. Let's get inside! The men hauling the table had finally reached the door and began to scoot it the last few inches when the man outside began pushing against it. Open the fucking door! He screeched. His hand still wedged in the opening as he tried to push the door against the table. 5628 is in the main axis wing, and people are jumping over the railing. You've got to let me in.

Step away from the door, I said flatly. Horror raced through my body, but I was fighting to keep control of my voice. You are endangering more than a dozen foundation personnel by trying to open that door. Take cover on the floor and close your eyes. As long as you don't make visual contact, you'll be fine. Remove your hand from the door. The man ignored me and began slamming his shoulder against the steel door.

I could see below the table that he had managed to slip his boot into the frame. More of the men and women from the meeting were putting their weight against the table. But with his foot firmly wedged, they were unable to close the gap. Sir, I said with anger and desperation rising in my voice. My hand slipped in the left side of my jacket, and I pulled my service revolver from the holster. Remove your foot and take cover elsewhere. If you do not allow us to close the door, I will be forced to shoot you.

This is your only warning. His shoulder slammed against the door again. Even against the weight of the table and the people behind it, the table's legs squealed against the tile floor, and the gap opened another inch. There were more people behind the man now, Gases fixed on those of us inside the room, desperation was their only expression. I leveled my revolver and waited as the man reset for another charge.

His shoulder made contact with the door again. The gap opened wider this time. I fired a single shot, and he tumbled backward into the panicked crowd as a woman screamed. The door slammed shut as the personnel in the conference room shoved the table against it. Everything was silent for a moment. My ears rang from the concussion of the gunshot, and a low-pitched wine echoed in my brain. Dearborn was tapping me on the shoulder,

but as his mouth moved, I couldn't make out his words. Looking back toward the door, it began to rattle again. The others in the hallway were now working together to open it. We've got to add more weight to the barricade. I don't know if the anomaly will be attracted to the commotion outside, but I'm not interested in finding out. We scanned the room, but there was nothing left but rolling chairs and a monitor mounted to the wall.

Dr. Bannon, useless as he had been leading up to this point, had his first good idea, and directed all of his personnel to sit on top of the table. It was unlikely to hold, but it would slow them down. The shoulder blows to the door began to speed up, and the table was giving way again when suddenly everything stopped. Silence fell on the room, only broken by the soft whimpers of those holding the table in place. At some point during the commotion, the facility alarm had cut out. I don't hear the siren anymore, Dr. Bannon said in a shaky voice.

Do you think 5628 has been contained? Investigator Dearborn walked to the far wall and lifted a phone from the cradle, holding it to his ear for a moment before bashing it against the wall. The lines are dead, he spat. No way to confirm. Our best bet is to assume the anomaly is still present. We will maintain our current position until a security team arrives. The man turned toward me with a look of bewilderment and anger.

Sir, I didn't say I was leaving the room. I'm just going to lift the blinds and take a look. If the thing is gone, maybe we can make a break for it to the surface stairwell. It's only 10 yards down the corridor. Before I could protest, the man turned and tucked his head under the dangling blind. By the time his companions were able to drag his head back out, he was already smiling. The look on his face made me nervous. It was so similar to the countless photos my team had provided me.

There's nothing out there, he said. No flying statue, no personnel, nothing. The corridor is empty. Maybe they've evacuated. The man moved from the table and began walking across the room just to the side of myself and investigator Dearborn. He stood at the window, scanning the ground below. His head rested on the glass for a moment before he looked up to the sky.

Director Balson, the man said, pointing out the window. It looks like most of the site 2002 staff are in the auxiliary field near the storage station. There are a few armored trucks, and it looks like security task force members are leading them to the housing complex. I sighed with relief. We were on one of the highest floors of the building, so the task force members were likely clearing it level by level. Surely it would be less than a half hour before they were leading us down the stairs and out of that damn building. I walked toward the window to watch the evacuation efforts, but as I neared the man, I could only see the bodies of those who had jumped from the building.

There was no task force team or evacuation. The fields were empty. He brought his right elbow up quickly, making contact with my nose. Warm blood and the sound of crunching cartilage exploded and I stumbled backward. He was on me before I could respond, stepping on my wrist and pulling the revolver from my hand. Get off the table now! He shouted, pointing the gun at the staff. I pushed myself clumsily from the floor, but he spun around and aimed toward me.

Move the table and get out of my wall. and get out of my way!" The group of terrified personnel pulled the heavy table away from the door as the man darted toward it, pulling it open and stepping out into the corridor. I knew I shouldn't look out, but I was transfixed by his sudden burst of madness. He stood there, arms drooping at his side as my revolver slipped from his hand and clattered to the floor. The man turned toward us again. His face, now a serene smile.

He walked backwards into the corridor, stretching his arms out to the floor. stretching his arms out to the side, and he tipped over the security railing, falling several stories to the main level far below. Close the door! Dearborn shouted, but it was too late. I was able to avert my gaze just as I heard the sound of rapidly fluttering wings. Everyone in the room screamed, but only for a moment. Silence descended again, leaving only the steady beating sound of SCP 5628 as it entered the room.

Footsteps tapped against the hard floor as I heard the other staff members walk through the door. The sounds of their shoes clacked against the railing until I heard the impact of a dozen people falling to their deaths. I was on my stomach with my arms wrapped around my head when I felt the light tapping of something hard against my head. The angel's marble sword, I had no doubt. It was mere inches away from me and, taunting me. It landed near my elbow, and its stone feet clicked on the floor as it marked. around me, tapping me with its blade. I don't know how long it paced around me, but it felt like ours. The worst part was I wanted to look at it. I needed to look at it. The strange serenity

on the faces of all those it affected seemed almost a better option than the abject terror of lying face down on the floor, huddled like a scared child waiting to be saved. Just as I resolved myself to the fact no one was coming to save me, the wings began to flutter again, and and 5628 lifted into the air. The sound vanished through the door, and I was left in a shivering heat on the floor. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-moyance-moyane for 15 minutes.

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There has been no resolution to the events at Site 202 or the unexplainable changes in SCP 5628. A security task force did eventually arrive and evacuate the last few of us inside the building. The anomaly was never recovered, and after a full sweep of the building, the O5 Council has determined it fully escaped the facility. Site 202 was shuttered, and all remaining anomalies have been transferred to temporary holding locations

until long-term accommodations can be made. I've returned to duty as well, but with one less investigator on my team. Dearborn's broken body was one of hundreds scattered across the floor on the lowest level of the building. His face was free of all worry or stress. A state, I never saw him in during our years of working together. The investigation continues into the escape, and escalation of SCP 5628's properties, but the leads are scarce. There appears to be no involvement from the chaos insurgency,

though many of my investigators believe we will discover ties in time. I'm not so sure. They do love to boast of their successes against the foundation. Plain and simple, we don't know how the anomaly escaped or what caused the changes in its properties. There is a single lead, though. It came in from Harrison Woolridge in the Department of, of Internal Affairs. His note was short, but worth putting a few investigators on. Take a look at

the file in the recent incident at Site 24. Attempted theft of an anomaly designated SCP 2483. There was a man involved, known only as Mr. Deakin. I have a feeling he may be able to answer a few of your questions. Maybe he could. SCP 5628 is a previously safe class anomaly that had been stored in a containment locker in the clearance level three wing of Site 202. The anomaly presents as a Renaissance-style stone angel statue, standing roughly 40 centimeters tall and composed of solid marble. When viewed in person, the statue will point its sword individually at all personnel present while flapping its wing, hovering slightly above the ground. The source of autonomy is currently unknown as the statue projects no detectable energy signature.

5628 will then use any available means of escape. Previously, this has been easily contained, as the anomaly had only been noted to travel approximately a meter above the ground. Recent video evidence shows that the anomaly's ability to fly at greater heights is in development. Any foundation personnel who become exposed to SCP 5628 outside of secure testing are to be informed immediately to expect consistent spectral class hallucinations. While, While there are no documented cases of the hallucinations causing harm, recent events have brought this into question. Affected personnel will also develop a compulsion to fly when in view of the sky.

While this had previously been mild and easily resisted, recent events have documented 14 instances of foundation personnel willingly falling to their death from unsurvivable heights. Increased compulsion will require additional testing and observation. All exposed personnel will be provided with a copy of Mind Over Metaphysics, written by the Foundation's top researcher, Dr. Heathcliff. Reading the entirety of this volume results in total cessation of anomalous effects in 95% of subjects. Removal from the presence of the anomaly and restrained movement for 24 hours provides an increased success rate. Research efforts are currently underway to document the marked changes

in SCP 5628. All pre-existing testing requests are temporarily suspended until all changes are documented by the newly assigned research team.