The SCP Experience - One Last Day | SCP-3729

Episode Date: April 1, 2022

SCP Foundation SAFE class object, SCP-3729: One Last Day This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3729, and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Lucas Click Check out the Author's work here: newpulptales.com 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

My thoughts drift back to Theodore Resnick in his prime, back when he talked me out of lecturing and convinced me to join his foundation. Resnick stood over six feet tall, barrel-chested, with a large walrus mustache. It was fiery red but streaked with gray, much on par with the cigars he was always so fond of smoking. Despite his intimidating presence, Overseer Resnick approached every new discovery with a child's energy and optimism. He was an adventurer and one of the founding members of the SCP Foundation. He was the first overseer, one of the original five. Those days are long behind him. They have

been for years. I look at the man, my mentor, my captain, as I have every day since he stopped talking, retreated into the prison of his own body. His once prominent muscles have given way to age and sag off his body. His skin is leathery and translucent, practically transparent. His head tosses against the pillow, his mouth quivering with unspoken words. The cigars denied to him for years lay mostly untouched in a box. But I lit one and left it burning on the window's seal, just so that he can savor the smell. Overseer Resnick had retired quietly almost 20 years ago. It was no grand send-off. He walked away quietly and left the foundation in the care of the next generation. Due to the nature of his work, he was never close to his children.

They had left him to rot in a hellhole posing as a nursing home. After I found out, I filed a motion to have him moved to my sight, where he would have the best medical attention that money can buy. In all my time here, it's the only motion I've filed that passed unanimously between the overseers and the ethics committee. The years have caught up with overseer Resnick. Not even the vast anomalies at our disposal could prevent that. Yet, I still come and see him and report my findings. All the while, he just sits in bed, drooling, unable to move or even use the bathroom without the nurse's aid. Today, though, I am silent. I am brought to a halt by the news from one of the nurses. The old bear has clung on this long, but his body and mind are finally out of fight. There's

nothing anyone can do to save him, not even me. I sigh, then summon the nurse. Get me a wheelchair. He stares at my command and looks like he's about to say something. But my tone and expression let him know I don't care. Now. I might not have risen in rank as far as Resnick. Content with my limitation, I've instead mustered all my power as the director of Site One. My orders are obeyed without question, and there are a few people I have to answer to. It's not long before a wheelchair is brought back into the room.

The various medical tubes and IVs are disconnected. A few orderlies gently hoist Resnick out of bed and into the chair. One moves behind Resnick, but I wave him off and take his place. I might not be able to save the old man, but I can at least make sure he has one final pleasant day. Possibly, the best day of his life even. At the very least, one not spent drooling in bed while waiting for someone to clean up his own shit. As I pushed the chair through the halls, the personnel step aside to give us a wide berth. Most of the younger faces know me by name, handpicked, and recruited by myself.

The older ones, here since my predecessor's time, recognize Resnick and lean in to whisper. I ignore their conspiracies and make my way to the elevators and push the button for the sub-basement. The doors open, revealing an expansive area. Most of it is open space leading up to an empty door frame. Near the elevator's door are several banks of computers and monitoring equipment. The researchers huddled around the equipment look up, and their expressions freeze in shock. I don't usually make my way down this far into the facility. My days of research ended with my promotion to site director, and I let my researchers do as they please.

From my years in the same profession, I know the best results are yielded from the freedom to experiment without constant monitoring. As long as their experiments pose no risk to the facility or any unreplaceable personnel, they can work unchecked. But then, today is a special exception. Ignoring their gaze, my eyes focus on SCP 3729. It looks harmless and ordinary. A simple wooden doorframe in the middle of a concrete wall. Cameras are perched around it, capturing it from every angle. It's one of the more benign items cataloged within Site 1,

but even benign items can lead to chaos. We have found out the hard way. We have strict rules on who may proceed through the threshold now. The most important rule is that nobody with ill will toward the foundation is allowed to cross SCP 3279. Next, nobody with the desire to commit any sort of crime. And finally, nobody with a history of cruel or unusual behavior. While experimentation with the third category did yield impressive results to the power of the anomaly,

ultimately, the attention from local law enforcement made it more trouble than it was worth. Fortunately, I can think of no other person more qualified. or more deserving to go through than Overseer Resnick. As I push him toward the doorframe, one of the lead scientists breaks away from the pack and stalks alongside me. Dr. Gonzalez hesitates before clearing his throat. Director Foster, may I ask what your intention is?

My hands tighten around the wheelchair's handles. It's been a long time since anyone has dared to ask me a question in my facility. I'm taking overseer Restnick through the anomaly. Sir, protocol strictly states, do you know who this is? My question is laced with anger and cuts Gonzalez short. He glances towards Resnick and bobs his head. Without this man, there would be no protocol.

There would be no foundation. You owe your clearance and all of your accomplishments to this man. Do you understand, Dr. Gonzalez? A slight nod is the only answer. gives me, but the unease is plain on his face. I sigh with irritation. Dr. Gonzalez, if it pleases you, you can note your objection in the logs. As site director, it's my prerogative to use any artifact as I see fit. With my rebuke finished, Gonzales slinks away with his head lowered, and I push Resnick forward. Nobody ever stopped to question his duties while he was running things.

Even though I enjoy the power of my rank, sometimes I long for the old days. I know that's probably why I'm doing this now, and why any reports Gonzales files might get attention. Not that any formal documentation will do him much good. Resnick is still revered in the foundation, and, unlike most of us, he somehow picked up very few enemies. I feel the cameras on me as we walk through SCP 37. There's no buzz of energy or any sign of activation except my own nerves in my stomach. I walk through with Resnick once, then back up, and walk back to the elevator without saying anything. I return Resnick to his private quarters, then retreat to my own, and retire for an early night.

For once, my conscience is clear as my head lands on the pillow. Resnick was first. Though we both walked through together, the event will be confined to him. The old man will wake up to the best day of his life. I wonder what that means for him. No doubt, cigars, brandy, and a friendly chat. Smiling, I close my eyes and let sleep wrap around me. I wake up choking on my own sweat. It clings to me, soaked through my very being, My cleaning my sheets. Sitting up in bed, I stare at the clock. Five in the morning.

The heat simmers in the air. My room is monitored by advanced climate control systems. Why did it fail? The screams tear my attention toward the door. Not bothering with changing my clothes, I open my door. The halls are filled with fire, as if the facility has been dropped into hell itself. Researchers run through the halls, the flames making short work of their lab coats, and rapidly consume the flesh beneath.

A security guard slumps against the wall, the flames turning his armor into pools of reeking plastic. I choke on smoke and drop to the floor. The tiles burn like heated stones as I drag myself along the hallway, but I endure the pain. Better to blister and burn my skin than the die of smoke inhalation. During my slow, agonizing crawl, the impossibility of the situation slams in on my mind. A fire shouldn't be possible. Every corner of the site is monitored for any signs of threat, both inside and out. Even if it had been an electrical surge, backups are in place to prevent any sparks from becoming an inferno.

The sprinkler system should have come on by now, drowning out the flames in a sea of freezing water. But the air remains oppressively dry, and even this load of the ground, the smoke billows around me. A light breaks through the flames. It's brighter and gentler than the night. the one surrounding me. Soft like a sunrise, warm, but not ravenous. Seeing no other option, I crawl toward and inside the room beyond. As my vision reorients, I see Overseer Resnick. He's sitting in the comfy chair I usually sit in, an oversized bathrobe wrapped over his body. He sits in the bright morning sun, somehow shining through the metal door slammed over the window, raising a cigar to lips, he smiles and beckons me forward to the chair opposite him.

Adrian, so glad you could make it. Overseer Resnick! I stand and cough. We have to get you out of here. The fire... Oh, there'll be no escape. Restnick beams and fills a glass full of brandy. Best have a drink while you can. I hear suffocation is a terrible way to go, but I don't know anything that perches half as well as fire.

His words nearly knocked me over. I feel the world to spin, and I place my hand against the wall to remain upright. The heat scorches into my flesh and snaps me back to reality. I stare at him, his words playing over again in my mind. You did this? Why? Restnick inhales deeply on the cigar. I haven't been able to speak or move in...

How long has it been? 10 years, but I could still hear everything you said, Adrian. All of your updates, all of your tortures in the name of progress. I ball my hands into fists. I did everything that was asked of me. My research has unlocked mysteries and advancement that have made the foundation. Secure. Contain. Protect. Restnik bellows, slamming his fist into his chair with every word.

Three simple words. One simple mission. none of which were chosen lightly. We were supposed to discover these items and protect people from them. Now, look at what the foundation has become. Hell, just look at SCP 3729 alone. How many people did you let die to test the limits of its power? How many death warrants have you signed off on and your role as director? I shake my head and stare at him.

You started all this. All of this wouldn't be possible without you. Yes. That's true. Resnick reaches for his drink and takes a long pool. But that's what happens when you live as long as me. Sometimes you watch helplessly as your greatest accomplishments become your biggest regrets. I'd rather see the foundation burn to the ground than continue with the mockery it has become.

The heat builds around us as the flames crawl through the room. I scream as they climb up my legs, devouring my flesh and flashes of searing pain as my skin blackens. The fire burns the screams from my throat, and I look over to see Restnik smiling, even as the fire greedily washes over him. Thank you, Adrian. Thank you for giving me one last day to set it right. SCP 3729 is a wooden doorframe, consistent with the 1910 kit home designs from the American company Sears. SCP 3729's anomalous effects manifest when a human subject walks through the doorframe. The anomalous effects exhibited by SCP 3729 will always affect the first person to walk through it after sunrise,

regardless of the number of individuals which do so. SCP 3729's first and most consistently observed anomalous effect is that the day after SCP 3729 walked under SCP 3729, SCP 3729 will wake up to the sunrise, regardless of whether or not the sun is visible from their position, and will report feeling remarkably well-rested, independent of how much sleep they actually received. All other anomalous effects appear to be based on the psychological profile of SCP 3729-1,

and thus vary considerably to alter reality in order to provide SCP-3729-1 what the subject would consider an extremely pleasant experience. While the full extent of SCP 3729's reality altering capabilities is not known, it has shown the ability to edit foundation documents, alter the behavior and opinions of people SCP 3729-1 is aware of, create matter, and affect results of games of chance. SCP 3729 is likely capable of many more effects, but testing has been temporarily suspended due to high financials

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