The SCP Experience - Only Pain and Madness | SCP-4971

Episode Date: July 4, 2025

Dispatched to recover a book from a mall-turned-spatial anomaly, an SCP retrieval team enters a forest beyond space where corpses hunt hearts, the trees breathe with eldritch hunger, and the only way out demands an unthinkable sacrifice. This story was derived from ⁠⁠https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-4971 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. ⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/⁠⁠ Author: Matt Doggett * * * 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 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Let's do some shopping, boys. Royce says as the five of us jump out of the transport vehicle in the parking lot of the three-story mall. A mobile command unit idles nearby, and there are a dozen other foundation employees scattered about, most of them in uniforms of local law enforcement. Otherwise, the derelict mall is quiet. The minor Midwestern city is asleep,

and the fence around the mall's property line keeps the looky-lose out. I would murder your mom for an orange Julius. Royce says, elbowing me in the ribs. His perfectly trimmed eyebrows bounce up and down on his tanning bed dark face. My mom would rip your nuts off, I tell him with a smile. Don't threaten me with a good time, Saltwood. Stay put, and don't do anything stupid. Lieutenant Rao says, coming from the front of the transport vehicle

and heading toward the mobile command unit. We all know he's talking directly to Royce, who is the only one liable to do anything stupid at any given moment. "'Stupid is as stupid does,' Royce cracks back in his best Forrest Gump impression. Before the lieutenant gets to the vehicle, the door on the command unit opens and outsteps Commander Peralta. The two of them shake hands, exchange a few inaudible words, and then head into the MCU, shutting the door behind them. "'I hope this one doesn't take all night,' Canton says, adjusting his ballistic vest with one hand, like he always does when he's nervous. "'Okay, you boys know the drill.

Richter says from my left. Time to spill the beans. And no lying, Royce. Royce shrugs sheepishly in his heavy equipment. Rifle held easily in one hand, his other hand resting on his standard-issue combat knife. Me? Little old me? He pouts dramatically. Richter rolls his eyes as the five of us form up in a loose circle.

I'll go first, Richter says. Because I know I'm not going to win this one. He pauses. His brown eyes looking so dark in the deep night, they appear to be all pupil. I was reading a book when we got called in. Valentez, cheers. A book?

Royce responds. How fucking lame can you get? Yeah, yeah, Richter says. Shut up, you heathens. Canton, you're next. The big man has the fingers of one hand hooked through the collar of his ballistic vest, ready to adjust it at a moment's notice.

I don't think he even knows he does it. I was bowling with my kids. The previously jovial vibe dies just like that. as the only one of us who has kids, Canton is the one we worry about the most. Although he's the biggest of us, he's also the softest. At least, he has become softer in the years since his twins were born. Not bad, Royce says, interrupting the heavy silence. I tried bowling with the kid once, but he didn't roll straight.

He wouldn't stay in a ball shape no matter how much duct tape I used. I chuckle while everyone else laughs at the ludicrous imagery that remark conjures. Valentez goes next. I swear to God this is true. The squat, Stoutman says, raising a hand in a scout's honor signal. I was in the middle of a threesome. Bullshit! Royce shouts.

Valentz shakes his head and smiles idiotically. His eyes hazed over as if remembering. It's true. I finally convinced my girl to do it with our friend Cindy. And of course, I get called in for this bullshit right in the middle of it. The only thing that brings me solace is the third. thought that they're still going at it right now. Does anyone else even need to go?

Richter asks after a long moment. I think Valentz wins this one. Before anyone can answer, Lieutenant Rao's voice cuts through the air. All right, gather up. I turn to see Rao and Commander Peralta standing just outside the mobile command unit. We all head over. I, for one, am not liking the look on Lieutenant Rao's face. Here's the deal, Commander Peralta says once we're gathered around.

We've lost contact with you. the advanced team we sent in, but their personnel locators are still sending signals. We need you guys to go in and get them out. They've gathered enough intel to tell us what we need to know about this anomaly. Namely, they found a book inside that should help us prevent this thing from getting stronger. So get the book, get the team, and get out at your mission. I can't help but notice that he has put the book before the team, as if that's the main priority. Maybe it is. Remember what I told you guys on the way, Lieutenant says. This is a spatial anomaly, and there are hostels in the forest, but we want to avoid conflict

if at all possible. In other words, do not attack unless attacked first. Royce rolls his eyes. Great! Several other members of the team grumble as well, and I feel my heart sink just a little. Now, Peralta says, you'll have to go at least nine clicks to where the advance team is hold up. They should be on a ridge overlooking a wooded valley.

What they said before the radio stopped working was to stay out of the truce. if possible. We'll stay in contact with you as long as we can, but expect to lose radio contact. Any questions? Lieutenant asks. Richter raises a finger. So what are the containment procedures for this one? The commander and lieutenant share a look, but it's the commander who answers the question. You guys are the last resort before we turn to more drastic options. There is no containment. Not without that book. We're just going to monitor the mall and hope what's in there doesn't try to come out. If it does, God help us all. The interior of the mall smells of concrete and dust.

We pass empty shops as we work our way toward the spatial anomaly. Our night optics devices turn the dark interior into a forest of green, white, and black, allowing us to see without using lights that could give away our position. So far, our radios are working fine. We're silent as we walk through the mall. The only sounds are made by our footsteps and our breathing. As we turn into another wing of the mall, I see the first sign of the anomaly. Up ahead, where there should be the skeleton of a department store,

is a vast landscape that stretches impossibly away from us, so far that the looming mountains before us look to be tens, if not hundreds of miles away. Strange, blade-leafed vines grow out of the department store entrance, where the anomaly starts. As we close in, I get a better look at the plants. The leaves are sharply serrated and feature many segments layered on each other. Nothing like any leaves I've seen before, Roy says. Lieutenant Rao answers over the radio.

Not that the advance team found, but best to avoid touching them anyway. It never looked tasty. I guess I'll just have to settle for my ration. Lieutenant admonishes, clearly not in the mood for the man's jokes. As we come to the store entrance, we find ourselves standing on the edge of a cliff, overlooking a wooded valley that stretches off toward the distant mountains. There are a series of paths criss-crossing the cliff base. It's our way down.

Canton raises his left arm, looking at the flexible screen attached there. The screen shows the location of the advance team, or at least their personnel locators, as little blinking dots. They're about nine clicks away through the valley below. Stay out of the woods if possible, Canton says with a scoff. How the fuck are we supposed to do that? It's a good question.

Considering that the entire valley is covered in strange trees, I don't think it will be possible. We're going to have to go through the woods, which means going through whatever awaits among the trees. Lazzang sur-gely, puissance-moyance-moyant for 15 minutes. We're like to dojo. Vere the pleasure with Leo Jo.

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Some of us drink water from canteens after the long climb down. Others stare off into the woods, scanning for threats. There's something out there. Valentz says. Where? I ask, stepping up next to him. I think it's messing with my goggles. I can't get a good look at it.

He raises his arm, his index finger indicating a direction. I peer at where he's pointing through the odd trees that look like a mix of saguaro cacti, oak trees, and some kind of coral you'd find in a thriving ocean. It takes me a moment, but I find the thing. A jolt of fear rips through me, even though I can't get a good look at the figure either. It appears blurry, like there's some kind of electronic interference coming off it.

But it's big, and it's anything but humanoid. I can't tell if the irregular appearance of its body is because of the interference, or if it's just the creature's natural state, but there's nothing that resembles a human body. It moves, as if dancing in place on a multitude of thick, formless legs. Judging by the distance and the size of the trees, it's a good ten feet tall, Bulges that might be arms stick out here and there, and there's no central head or eyes that I can identify.

What the fuck is that thing? I whisper. There's another one, Valentz says, shifting to point to the right of the creature. Sure enough, there is another one, but it's not quite the same. This one is smaller, shaped differently, but no less frightening in its oddity. Richter comes up behind us and stares silently at the creatures through his night vision device. Then Canton and Royce do the same. Say something, I plead with Royce in my head. Tell a joke. Say something.

I realize I've been staring unblinkingly at the bigger of the two creatures, for I don't know how long. My imagination runs wild with the sickening possibilities as I wonder what it looks like up close and without the interference. It's mesmerizing and its grotesqueness. We need to move, Richter finally says, causing me to blink. And we need to do it carefully. Blentez whispers. He's right. The things have disappeared, fading completely into the darkness.

After we take a few moments to gather ourselves, we head into the woods, following the only visible trail. Richter takes the lead, and we move slowly, our heads constantly swiveling back and forth. I see no more evidence of these creatures, but sight is only one sense. As we travel, we hear the snapping of branches and the creaking of trees as something follows along in the forest. Occasionally, I see a tree sway under some hefty weight, making me think that these creatures have taken to the trees to follow our progress. But the worst part is, the sounds are coming from both sides now. I try to keep my fear in check, listening to the tough, fibrous branch is snapping.

After walking for nearly an hour, we come to a clearing. As we stop, taking the opportunity to see if we can get eyes on our pursuers, the forest stills. The ever-present sounds that have accompanied us this far cease, which is somehow worse. But then again, we aren't moving anymore, and our attention is drawn to the middle of the clearing. There's some kind of large symbol carved into the ground made up of two concentric circles with triangles and rings inside them. Dark liquid fills the trenches that comprise the symbol. To one side of the ruin is a makeshift wooden altar, or what passes for wood in this strange place. The altar, which is the stump of a tree, is stained dark with the same liquid that fills the trenches.

Blood. This is part of why the foundation got involved in this at all. Before the anomaly, the mall was used by about two dozen vagrants as a home of sorts. The police knew this, and didn't much care. But not 24 hours ago, a group of young women who called themselves the daughters of Eden made their way into the mall. Some good Samaritan saw these young women go into the mall and called the police. afraid the seemingly innocent college-age girls would be accosted by the homeless people. Two cops showed up to investigate, but soon after going into the mall, they were never heard from again.

So four more cops showed up. They disappeared too. That was how the foundation got wind of it. And according to the briefing lieutenant gave us on the way to the site, the daughters of Eden were about a million times more dangerous than some homeless people. Apparently, the only way to open up this spatial, anomaly permanently was to sacrifice a number of human hearts. And we've just found the sacrificial altar. Although the hearts are no longer present, it's clear that this is where the daughters did the deed. It's likely that those police officers are dead, along with all the homeless people who happened to be in the

mall when the girls came calling. Where are the bodies? Royce asks as we look around. Where are the hearts? Richter asks. We should keep moving, Canton says. We're having to halfway there. Normally an hour would be enough time to get us five miles, but we've been moving so slowly that we've still got another hour to go, if we continue at the same pace. We keep moving, leaving the altar and the blood-filled symbol behind. Richter tells Lieutenant Rao what we found as we go. They continue talking, but my attention shifts from the radio conversation to the surrounding woods. The sounds from the forest resume as our escorts continue to keep pace with us, still apparently using the trees to move.

The trail begins to ascend up the side of a mountain. After two or three minutes of climbing, I realized the sounds from the forest have ceased once again. Hello? Richter says over the radio. There's no answer. It seems we've just lost our radio signal. Canton shouts, we take defensive positions and raise our weapons. I expect to see one of those strange creatures, but instead I see what looks like an old. old woman standing in the middle of the trail, naked, her chest ripped open to expose her heartless chest cavity. Her head is gone, or at least obscured by something. The thing obscuring it looks like a flickering green triangle that you would see as a targeting icon in a video game.

She stands with her palms at her sides, facing us. The damage to her chest is vicious and inexpertly done, the ribs ripped away, and flesh hanging in ragged tatters. None of us fire, remembering our orders. Do not attack unless attacked first. But our attention is focused on the woman on the trail, which is why none of us see what's coming until it's too late. Richter, who's kneeling about six feet ahead of me, and to my left, using the trunk of an abnormal tree as cover, shouts out and fires his rifle twice, drawing my attention.

I turn just in time to see a net fall on top of Richter, who has his rifle straight up as he fires at the creature overhead, As the net, which reaches to his waist, contracts around his upper body, I realize it's not exactly a net. It's more like a cobweb in its construction, with irregular gaps along its length, but it's not white like a cobweb. Its color shifts, going from bright to dark and pulses as I watch through my night vision goggles. The web tightened so quickly and powerfully, I can see the strands of it, cut into Richter's face, as if his flesh is made of jello. I catch a glimpse of the amorphous creature wrapped around the tree. tree overhead as it pulls Richter up in the web. Torrents of the man's blood splatter to the

ground. The tree shakes, branches creak and crunch. Then the thing is gone, along with Richter. But I have no time to do anything about it, because the rest of us are under attack as well. Behind me, Valentz shalt and opens up with his rifle, firing half a dozen quick shots, before I can even get turned around. My reflexes feel slow. My mind clouded, with an implacable fear I've not experienced on any other mission. The woods behind us are filled with naked human corpses. Their heads gone and chests ripped open, hearts missing. They sprint at Valentez, who was on rear watch, but is now the vanguard against this onslaught. I drop to one knee for a sturdy firing position. As I take aim at one of the sprinting corpses, I have a moment to

think about the tree I'm crouching near, only a yard away. If something wants to unfurl its ungodly webbed arm and snag me from the ground, I could do nothing to stop. stop it right now. I can't move from this spot, because doing so would take precious time. Time Valentz doesn't have. I've already stood dumbly by, as one of my friends was killed, even if the whole thing took no more than three heartbeats from start to finish. I won't do it a second time. The first bullets I fire punched through a skinny dead man's chest and out his back, doing little more than causing him to stumble. He keeps coming, along with the others. Valentz backpedals up the trail toward me, but he's not watching where he's going.

so I have to stop firing for a few precious moments, or else I risk hitting him. I can hear Royce and Canton nearby, shouting directions at each other, pointing out tangos. It sounds like we're surrounded. Straightening, I glanced directly up at the strange canopy overhead, composed of those blade-like clusters of leaves. My breath snags in my throat, as I see hundreds or thousands of unstructured creatures up there, like the one that took Richter. Or maybe I'm wrong.

Maybe it's not hundreds or thousands. Maybe it's one single organism, connected through unseen webs and lines hidden among the leaves. I can't see well enough to tell. That interference messes with my vision. All I know is that we're in trouble, and I don't think we'll be coming out of this alive. Something clicks in my mind. My training kicks in. Knowing I can't do anything about whatever those things are overhead,

I turn my attention back to the corpses swarming toward us. Instead of going for center mass, I start aiming for legs. They're much smaller targets, and since they're constantly moving as the corpse has run toward us, the shots are all the more difficult. I managed to blow some kneecaps apart as Valentz approaches. He's still backpedaling and still firing. When he's just 10 feet away, a couple of corpses come out of nowhere from our left. They tackle him to the forest floor.

One of them has some kind of stone implement in its hand. A primitive blade. It raises the weapon over Valentis' chest. I fire at the attacker, punching holes in its already ruined torso. The blade comes down and punches through Valentz's breastplate, just above the collar of his ballistic vest. As my friend dies, the other headless corpse starts ripping the vest off. I feel a hand on my shoulder, yanking me backward up the trail. Come on!

Canton shouts in my ear. Letting myself be pulled up the trail, I watch as the two corpses cut and rip through Valentas's rip cage, determined to take his heart out. We lost radio contact before the skirmish. Not that any of us have the breath to talk right now. We found what's left of the advance team, but after the mad dash up the hill to the ridge, all we can do is huff air and look around at the evidence of a massacre.

Bloody clothes, equipment, and personnel locators are scattered about the rocky ridge. So much for being safe out of the trees, Royce says between gulping lungfuls of air. The bodies are gone, but I figure we just encountered some of them back down the trail. It's just Canton, Royce. and me now. Wearily, we explore the ridge, looking for any survivors. Canton tries to radio back to base, but it doesn't work. We already know that, but he keeps trying anyway. Protocol. Still, it's starting to get on my nerves, especially the way his voice takes a higher pitch

every time he calls. I'm about to say something when someone else takes the words out of my mouth. It won't work. The three of us spin toward the source of the voice, seeing a man standing at the tree line about 10 yards away. The tree line we just came through. He's wearing a dirty SCP foundation uniform, and he has a leather-bound book clutched to his chest with one hand. He holds something else, something that looks like a hunk of meat in his other hand. There's not much time, the man says, holding up the hunk of meat and the book. Red liquid drips from the meat as he squeezes it, and I realize it's a heart. A human heart. Not only that, he's not actually squeezing it. The organ is still beating, convulsing in his hand.

Take the book, get it out of here, but you'll need a new heart. It's the only way this one won't last much longer. The man limps towards us as he speaks, drawing my attention to his left calf, the side of which has been ripped down to the bone. As he draws closer, I recognize him from the briefing materials we reviewed on the ride in. This is specialist O'Leary from the advance team, although he looks like he's aged about ten years and lost about 40 pounds compared to the picture I saw of him. A new heart should keep them away for long enough, he says, his feverish eyes bouncing among us, looking for understanding.

You have to use page 59 and 60. They tell you what to do. Canton looks at me and shakes his head, confused. Oh no! Or Leary suddenly shrieks. I look at him and see that his wild eyes are fixed on the heart in his left hand. It is stopped beating, and it shrivels in his fist, suddenly resembling a large raisin. They're coming!

O'Leary tosses the desecrated heart away and limps toward Royce, who is the nearest to him. Familiar noises erupt from the woods. Out of the corner of my eye, as I put my attention on the tree line, I see O'Leary grasp onto Royce with his free hand, blabbering something I can't understand over the noise emanating from the forest. The tops of the trees sway as fuzzy, undulating shapes gather amid the branches. Unruly figures seem to drip down toward the forest floor,

shifting all the time, defying my imagination. Headless, heartless corpses seem to materialize among the strange tree trunks, walking steadily until they come to the edge of the forest. In place of their heads, those strange, triangular shapes flicker, and I realize with head-slapping obviousness where I've seen them before, those same triangles were inside the concentric circles at the clearing down in the valley. Not that it matters now. If I understand O'Leary correctly, we have to take out one of our hearts to keep these things away, and that's not going to happen. I would rather die side by side with my compatriots than kill one of them for their hearts. Of course, there's the possibility

that I can give up my own heart, but something deep inside tells me I couldn't do it even if I wanted to. My survival instincts would kick in, and I would fight. Besides, it's not like we have enough time. As if to prove me right, the corpses all sprint out of the woods towards us at once. I find myself backing up near the edge of the ridge, thinking maybe a swan dive off the top would be preferable to having these fuckers tear my heart from my chest. But while I still have ammo, I still have hope. I open up, aiming for kneecaps to cripple our attackers. The dark shapes in the trees seem to leach out, reaching hideous semi-liquid fingers toward us. I can't focus on whatever those are right now, so I keep my attention on shooting knees. I work my way through one magazine,

taking several of the corpses down. I shout, realizing that I haven't heard anyone else shooting this whole time. I glance over to see both O'Leary and Canton crouched over Royce, who lies on his back on the ground, legs twitching. Canton's back is to me, blocking my view of Royce's chest, but I immediately know what they're doing. Part of me is horrified and swelling with righteous indignation. Another, slightly larger part of me, is relieved and hopeful.

But the corpses are still coming. I slap a new magazine into my rifle and take aim, But before I can squeeze the trigger, the corpses all turn tail and rush back the way they came. The dark fingers retreat back into the treetops. I look over and see Canton standing next to Royce's dead body, a beating heart in his hand. He holds it up, a look of sickening determination on his face. Go! O'Leary says.

And remember what I told you! Canton takes off running, heading the way we came. He glances at me. Come on! I sprint after him, looking at O'Leary. with his injured leg. He sits next to Royce's body, smiling, tears running down his cheeks. There's no sign of our pursuers as we run down the trail. It's a miracle I keep to my feet, given how steep it is. Pretty soon, we're passing the sacrificial grounds with the symbols

and the blood-soaked tree stump. We keep running, my legs and lungs burning. I can't see Royce's heart, because Canton carries it in front of him, but I figure he'll tell me if it stops beating. When we're still a good kilometer from the base of the cliff, Canton slows, head tilted down to look at the heart in his hand. What's wrong? Is it still beating? Canton whips around, and I have the span of a heartbeat to realize he no longer has the heart in his hand. Instead, he holds his combat knife. He swipes at my throat, but I dodge back. The blade opens my flesh, but not deeply enough to do any serious damage. I stumble backward, trying to get my rifle aimed at Canton. But before I can, I trip over a rock.

and fall onto my ass on the trail. Canton rushes over and jams his left foot onto my right hand, pressing both my arm and my rifle against my chest. Around us, the forest comes alive with the sounds of approaching corpses, and whatever that thing in the tree is. Canton has shoved the leather-bound book between his chest and his vest, leaving both his hands free. I wonder why he hasn't shot me.

He left his rifle behind, but he still has a sidearm. Maybe you have to be alive for the hard thing to work. I'm sorry, Salwood. He says as he stands on me, pitting my rifle to my chest. I have kids, and I need one more heart to make it out of here with the book. If we don't, who knows what will happen? We can run. We have time. No!

Canton says, leaning down. We don't. He has reversed the knife, so the tip of the savage blade is pointing down. Now, he sithes it toward the area just below my collarbone and above my vest. I swing my left arm up in a frantic effort to block the blow. The blade punches through my forearm. The pain is brisk. in a distant way. I keep the arm moving, and Canton doesn't let go of the handle, which causes

him to twist. The move brings him off balance just enough for me to buck his foot off of me. I free my right hand, grab his leg, and throw him off me. He takes the knife with him, pulling it out of my forearm as he falls to the ground. I'm already moving. I pull my sidearm out, slide the safety off with my thumb, and then shoot Canton in his left kneecap. As he screams, I glance around at the forest. Corpses are gathering. I look overhead and see heavy, undulating shadows coalescing in the branches above me. There's not much time. I pull my combat knife out and, without much thought, scramble next to Canton.

He's too preoccupied with his ruined knee to notice what I'm doing. I yank the book out from under his vest and then plunge the knife into his breastplate. As the blade thuds into his chest, he stops screaming and looks up at me. I lean on the knife, using my weight to push it through the tough muscles and bones in his chest. Canton convulses, his eyes fixed on mine. I return his gaze, but I don't really see him, not as he was. Not as a friend or a compatriot. He lost that right when he tried to kill me.

Now all I see is a way out, a way to survive. I just need his heart. With one hand still on the knife, I unfasten the vest and pull it off. Then I reach for the book, remembering what O'Leary said about pages 59 and 60, some kind of ritual that will allow me to ward off the encroaching attackers with Canton's heart. But as I find the correct pages in the ancient book, my guts go cold. The words there are in some language I don't recognize. A memory comes flashing into my head. Something O'Leary said to Canton after they took Royce's heart out on that ridge. Remember what I told you, he said.

I glance up. The corpses are all around now, and they're running through the woods toward me. I shift my attention to Canton, slapping him hard. What did he tell you? I shouted to his pale face. How do I do it? Canton's eyelids twitch. He looks at me one last time, and then the light goes out of his eyes. Panic seizes my heart. I lurch up, taking the book, but leaving the knife in Canton's chest. I don't make it three steps before I'm completely surrounded.

The corpses close in. But before they can get to me, something heavy and dark shifts over my head. I look up, but this time I can see the creature's true form. It is no longer hiding itself for me. It is right there, reaching out. It has no face, but its eye. gleam and it smiles sickeningly. It's not a hand that wraps around me, not a tentacle, not an appendage of any kind. It is simply one part of the hole and as it touches me,

as it sizzles into my flesh, the madness I've managed to keep at bay subsumes me. My mind shatters as I become an unwilling part of this thing, and I don't even experience relief when it rips my heart from my chest. Only pain, only madness for eternity. spacetime anomaly, existing within the former Southwood Park Mall in Havensbrook, Indiana. The true location of the anomaly within the mall is uncertain and variable. Anyone who leaves the main concourse of the mall will eventually find themselves within SCP 4971. The physical limits of the anomaly are currently unknown, but far outreach those of the

Southwood Park Mall. The internal topography of SCP 4971 is that of a vast, mostly arboreal landscape. and contain several hostile anomalous entities. Many of these entities can be managed with light arms fire. However, others are considerably more dangerous and must be approached only if absolutely necessary and with extreme caution.