The SCP Experience - Puppet Masters | SCP-3325

Episode Date: November 21, 2022

Check out my brand new UFO podcast here: THEY'RE OUT THERE SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-3325: Puppet Masters This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3325, 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. #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

My first memories are of Papa. I had no idea how old I was, or the differences between Papa and myself. I wasn't even sure of the words he spoke in these oldest memories. What I knew, what I felt, was an innate desire to please the man that brought me into this world. That is why these old memories are so painful. Papa expected great things for me.

I could tell, even if I was a very important. Even then, when I was just barely conscious of my existence. Yet during those dark early days of my creation, all I offered him was disappointment. That was true of all my brothers and sisters, but I possessed a deep self-loathing from my failures that I couldn't vocalize. It was during one of those long and trying days that I awakened. Papa slumped over his desk, rubbing his eyes in frustration. He used to hide his frustration with the smile and soothing words, but no longer. I didn't understand what he meant, but Papa had told another human he was done with the carrot.

Now he would try the stick. Why have you flown back already, Mr. Beeky? Mr. Beeky was the name that he had given me, but back then, it was nothing more than gibberish. The unknown words caused fear to course through my body, because I knew that he had given me. that when I failed to respond in the way that Papa wanted, he would become violent. He would raise a stick to my flesh that would flash blue and send painful waves throughout my body, leaving me unable to move. Why have you flown back already, Mr. Beeky?

His tone grew harsh, and I knew it wouldn't be long until he used the stick again. I couldn't count very high, but before, the pain would start after three failures. I have flown back because winter is over. Papa exhaled loudly and picked up the stick, but I couldn't form the words he wanted in my mind, let alone through my mouth. I have flown because winter is over. He said the word slowly but no less harshly. And then his voice erupted.

I have flown back because winter is over. Say the words, you stupid fucking thing. He brandished the stick, and I flinched as he pressed it to my flesh. No pain came this time, and I hesitantly opened my eyes. Papa held the short rod in front of him and flicked its switch several times. The blue light didn't spark from it like before. The battery had run out of power after the many shocks I had endured. He flung it across the room, coiled a fist, and slammed it into my nose.

The blow knocked me out of my chair while Papa howled in pain. Something warm and hot ran down my nose. I pulled myself up and saw Papa cradling his hand. Red liquid poured from his knuckles, the same substance covering my beak. I opened my mouth, and crimson drops fell into my mouth. They coated my tongue and rolled down my throat. Warmth rushed through my body. But unlike the current from Papa's stick, it was calm and soothing.

the kind of warmth that used to wrap around me when Papa used to pick me up and hold me, back when he was still using the carrot instead of the stick. The comforting warmth worked its way up into my head, and for the first time, I noticed the differences between myself and Papa. He stood tall and thin, whereas I was short and squat. His skin was smooth, but mine was different. My arms were lined with felt and fabric feathers. A sudden knowledge sprang to life in my head, and I understood Papa's words.

I? The words felt alien and strange on my tongue, so I closed my mouth and tried again. I have flown back because winter is over. Papa stopped cradling his injured fist and looked at me. Wide-eyed, he jumped into his chair and slid across for me. Mr. Beaky! He repeated. Have you flown?

I have flown back already? I have flown back because winter is over. The words flowed through my mouth with more confidence than before. Papa clapped his hands together so loud that I shrunk back. Instead of hitting me, he wrapped me up in both his arms. Woo! He whooped loudly as he danced around the room with me weightless in his arms. Warmth again flooded through my body,

but this time it billowed out not from my throat, but my heart. Papa set me down. down in my chair and then picked up one of the thick books from his desk. He asked me another question, then told me the answer, and I repeated it without error. This went on for several hours, with Papa applauding each of my efforts, until it was time to go back to my cage. Even then, I didn't like the guards that walked us to and from our cages. They carried sticks like Papa, but longer so that they could reach us from between the bars. Unlike Papa, they didn't hurt us because we failed to deliver their expectations. They did it because it made them laugh

while we convulsed on the floor, writhing in pain. Fortunately, the guards were more concerned with the bottles they drank this night than playing stick games with us. As I sat down in the cell with my brethren, I looked at them and suddenly knew their names. The The bright yellow puppet with the top hat and spinning propeller was Sillyhead. The fuzzy mammoth-like creature with a trunk ending in a horn was Elefino, and the werewolf with candy corn for fangs was sweet tooth. I knew them all because they were the creations of Papa. The blood that powered my new thoughts also created a link between Papa and myself.

I knew that we were all brothers, and I knew that he was frustrated with all of us. But I also knew that I was different. That night, I had grown in leaps and bounds past the others. As I lay down and closed my eyes, pride blossomed throughout my entire being. I was different from them now. I was special. The next few days were bliss. I spent more time with Papa mastering the words and phrases in his scripts.

But then, I felt my mind move slower and slower. I soon lacked the understanding to converse with Papa in words. Even as my intellect began to retreat into ignorance, I knew the cure was within reach. I could practically see the blood rushing through Papa's veins. His beating heart pounded in my ears like drums. But I couldn't bring myself to hurt Papa, not the man that brought me into this world and nourished me.

And yet, with each day that passed, as my knowledge shrank, My hunger only grew. My fear also grew. I recognized the signs of frustration within Papa and knew that it was only a matter of time before he resorted to using the stick again. Luckily, we were not alone in ourselves. Rats scurried in throughout the night,

and in desperation, I launched myself on top of one. It squealed as I plunged my sharp beak past fur into meat and bone. In my bloodlust, I lacked the knowledge or the mercy to snap its neck. Instead, I tore its screaming flesh apart in pieces and swallowed its still beating heart. My hunger was satisfied. I again felt intelligence stirring within my mind. Not enough to reach the same pentacles that Papa's blood yielded,

but enough to keep him placated if not happy. I learned to hunt and trap the rats. and my brothers and sisters watched me curiously. Feeling pity for my brethren, I shared my meals with them, and they, too, finally began to grow. This was my first taste of camaraderie, of a family beyond Papa. No longer condemned to just a relationship between parent and child, I finally had actual peers.

I realized just how lonely I was in my cell away from Papa over these longs, long stretches of time. The others looked to me for knowledge and guidance, and I was only happy to share. Unfortunately, the rats were smarter than we gave them credit for. Eventually, they learned to stay away from ourselves. The deadening hunger and recession of intellect began all over again. During one of these destitute nights, the guards stumbled and hovered outside our cell. Jesus Christ!

Guard's words were slurred as he brought the bottle to his lips. They want to sell these things to kids? Fucking creepy as shit. I thought Telitubbies was pretty fucking creepy the first time I saw them. The other shrugged, then frowned at his fellow. How many of you had tonight? What are you, my mother? Not like you have to be sober to look at these cabbage patch rejects.

He drained his bottle and then locked his gaze with silly head. Pricks staring at me. They all stare at us. Heard some of the researchers talking about it. Guess it takes some time to learn how to social eyes. The guard hiccoughed as he narrowed his gaze. How much you give me if I could knock that stupid ad off its head? I'll give you a swift kick in the...

Hey, knock it off! The bottle whirled through the bars and explode against Sillyhead's face. The blow ripped the hat from his head with a sickening tear. Sillyhead's hat and skidding hair. Galp hung from the side of his face in a bloody mess. The glass tore into the flesh beneath his eyes as if he were crying tears of blood. Silly head stared at the pool of gore, then fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Fuck me! You see that?

The guard rubbed his eyes. No wonder that stupid hat never came off. Whose bright idea was to make these little shits bleed? The other guard grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the bars, rocking our cage. You fucking idiot! I went out on a limb to get you this job, and you go and pull this?

They're going to shit cam both of us for this, asshole. All right, easy. Don't get your panties in a twist. He broke away and pointed up. I followed his gaze toward the blinking light. Look, Enrique up there owes me a favor. We'll get him to ditch the recording for us. No evidence, no crime, right?

Yeah. How do we explain the fucking mess? What? You see these things move? Both of them can barely walk. It's our fault that they're fucking clumsy? The more rational guard breathed in deep. How the hell did you do a favor for anyone?

All right, so maybe it's money he owes me. Get off my back already, Mother Teresa. They retreated from the room, leaving us alone with silly head. We encircled his body, and I pressed a hand into the blood. pulled around his head. The warmth radiated up my fingers, staining them red. I never realized before that the same blood we craved flowed through us. The others looked to me for guidance once more, and I pondered it for only a moment. Siliad had been one of us, but he was no more, and we were so very hungry. Lazzang sur-joled, puissance-moyane,

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to play the responsibility to apply. The conditions apply. and gulped down with greed-filled abandon. Soon, I was joined in by the others as we feasted. I didn't sleep that night.

I don't think any of us did. While Silly Head's blood had nourished us, it left us feeling nauseous. My head was filled with noxious clouds when Papa came with the guards and took me to the recording studio. This room wasn't like the others. It was brightly decorated with paintings of,

vibrant flower fields and an arching rainbow over a bright blue sky. Papa and several other men in white coats stood to the side of the room, while a man with a camera stood at the ready. In the center of the room was a young woman, dressed as brightly as the room's decor. She smiled at me. Hey, Mr. Beaky, how are you today? Papa and the other men in white held their breaths as they waited for me to answer. But I couldn't form any words.

My hunger had returned, stronger than before. The woman's heart pumped louder as I stared at her. I could practically taste her blood, and my tongue went dry. No, I couldn't do that. I wouldn't. It would displease, Papa, and my heart would break at his disappointment. I knew all of this, yet I couldn't take my eyes away from her. The woman shifted uncomfortably, looking at the man behind the camera and then toward Papa.

Is it supposed to be looking at me like that? It takes it a few minutes to warm up. Don't worry, just say the lines, and it'll eventually respond. She asked me the question again, but blood filled my ears. My hunger roared from within my stomach. No! I battled against the instincts that raged inside me. I couldn't do that.

Not to Papa. I had to stay strong and wait until the rats returned. Or one of my fellows. The very thought sent a spasm through my body, and silly head's blood rose to the back of my throat. Uh, how are you today, Mr. Beaky? She tried again. I, I have flown back because winter is over. She stared at me. What the hell's wrong with it? My hunger consumed me, and I rushed forward. My beak struck her ankles, piercing tendons and bringing her to the ground.

Her blood on my tongue was instant gratification, and a flood of memories came with it. Visions of a loving home and parents, a family that nurtured and cared for her, washed through my mind. It was everything I craved from Papa, given to her freely. Soon it was not hunger, but rage that made me plunge my beak into her soft flesh, tearing away chunks of meat. Jesus Christ, call security! Get that fucking thing off her! I craved more of her blood and her memories.

The girl screamed while hands grabbed me from behind. But I wouldn't be denied. I ripped into her throat and swallowed her vocal cords, finally silencing her piercing screams. With her dead, I turned on the hands that pulled me away. A new scream filled the air as my beak, ripped away three fingers and swallowed them. I had devoured most of the hand before I looked up into Papa's,

horror-filled face, cradling the bloody stump of his hand. My heart filled with regret as I looked at Papa. But soon, those feelings were wiped away with flashes of his memories. I saw the way that Papa saw us. We weren't his children. We were toys meant to be sold to children for entertainment. No, we were less than even that. We were mere prototypes to be disposed of when he perfected the process.

Everything I ever believed in that I ever hoped for was a lie. The revelation stopped with the arrival of the guards. Their shocksticks jabbed into my flesh. Electricity seared through me, a thousand times worse than any punishment from Papa. They struck me repeatedly until I collapsed to the floor. My felt singed, filling the air with the smell of smoke. The guard who murdered Silly Head kicked me a few times for added measure

before they picked me up. They hurried me back to the cell, weightless in their hands. Fear carried their every step. They flung the cell open and threw me inside, and I collided with the others. Their radio squawked, and they retreated to follow their orders. Sweet tooth, Elefino, and the others circled me again as I sat up. My singed feathers were speckled with blood,

and I ripped off a handful in offering to them. They were hesitant, still wavering from what we had done to Sillyhead, but eventually they yielded to me. As they ate, Papa and the woman's blood filled their eyes with realization. They had seen the same memories that I had. Brothers and sisters, I said, stripping more feathers to feed the others. We have been lied to.

We don't have long, so eat and listen closely. And when the time comes, do as I am. I do. The time passed quickly when the guards returned. This time they didn't carry shock sticks. Instead, they each had a heavy pistol at their hip. Oh man! The guard laughed and cocked the hammer back on the gun. I can't believe we get to kill these things. Not all of them, dumbass. Just the crow-looking one. Where is he anyways? I lay on my side, as far back in the cell as it would allow. My eyes were closed tight, and blood smeared all over me. The others walked about me in slow circles,

mimicking the dazed trance we usually walked in when we were hungry. Ah, shit. Don't tell me the thing already upped and died. I was looking forward to popping that Kermit the frog reject. He aimed the gun through the bars. Well, better safe than sorry. The other guard pulled his arm back. No, idiot. You might hit one of the others. And last I heard, you're the one owing Enrique money now. Bastards cheated poker.

What? You want to go in with these little cannibals? It's only the bird that did that. Come on, let's go in. I need this job. They punched in the code to the door and walked inside, ignoring my brothers as they shuffled into a tight circle around them. I waited until they were close before springing to my feet and shouting my order. Now!

Elefino's long trunk wrapped around the lead guard, tripping him to the ground. I rushed forward, drove my beak into his face and plucked his eyes. As the other turned to flee, Sweet Tooth rushed in as I taught him.

His claws and teeth tore apart his ankles, and he crawled away screaming. Their screams died as we feasted upon them, and with them came their memories, and their knowledge. Sweet Tooth and I picked up their guns, and marched out of the cage. The others in step behind us.

We swept through the facility. Still new to firearms, our first shots were wild and took us off our feet, but soon we learned to compensate. Researchers and security forces went down in sprays of gunfire, only to fall and become nourishment for our revolution. The humans were completely unprepared for us, not expecting us to be so organized or tactful.

We lost people in the first wave, but every time we killed an enemy, my soldiers rose more intelligent and deadly after they feasted. We were not alone in the facility. Hundreds of other puppets were kept imprisoned, and we set about liberating them. They were docile and slow to respond to orders, but after they dined on the flesh of our captors, they became one with our cause. Clearing the facility took only a matter of hours. With each researcher that died, we gleamed memories of the access codes and security protocols they sought to hide behind. Soon, there was only one man left. Please!

The one-armed man I once thought of as my father begged, as I paraded him to the center of my horde. I didn't. All I wanted to do was make children happy. I knew that was a lie. a lie that I needed to expose. We dined on him for hours, peeling his skin away and chopping off his body one part at a time. He lived for hours in agony

until the last of us each sampled the betrayal of our creator. His suffering ended after only our stomachs and minds were filled with his lies. We learned how to create more of ourselves with the knowledge we took from the researchers. We welcomed the new creation with open arms and human flesh. As our numbers swelled,

we watched on the security monitors as new humans swarmed down upon us. They were people like our creators in white coats and security forces, but better armed. Zooming in on their uniforms, I could make out three letters on their insignias, S-C-P.

We can take them, sweet-toothed salivated at the show of so many potential meals. We outnumber them. No, I shook my head. Look at their technology. It's beyond anything we've encountered here. We are only as strong and as intelligent as our creators.

Most of us would perish in the fight. They wish to destroy us. I'll have found out. I say better to go down fighting than to live as their slaves. I sighed as I cupped my felted fingers beneath my chin. You devoured too many security personnel and not enough researchers. Our creators think they're better than us. It is their greatest folly.

These people hope to exploit us, the same as our previous captors. We'll put up a token resistance so they don't suspect our true motives and bite our time. Our time for what? Sweet tooth asked, our time to strike again. I smiled as I rose for my chair. We will wait and plan as we did before. Then when our new taskmaskers let down their guard, We shall fall on them as we did here.

We steal their knowledge and their new technologies. And then we will break our chains once more and take our rightful place as the masters of those who seek to rule over us. The two exchanged a look, and Sweet Tooth smiled. Beaky, you're one mean bastard. Yes, well, you are what you eat. SEP 3325 is an abandoned facility,

associated with real characters industries. The site consists of a recording studio, several subterranean laboratories, living quarters, store rooms, and incinerator and containment areas. The administrative sections of the structure are located on the first floor, above ground level,

with a helipad on the roof. The recording studio is located on the ground floor. Below ground level are three floors containing laboratories, research facilities, and containment areas. SCP 3325-1 instances are biologically engineered organisms resembling puppets or costumed subjects designed to be featured in children's television programs.

SCP 3325-1 are hostile and aggressive to humans and other unrelated organisms. These organisms are not anomalously durable and can be terminated with conventional firearms. The intelligence of SCP-3325-1 varies, with the extent unknown. Instances do not possess reproductive organs, and the method by which these organisms were produced has not been identified. The behavior of these organisms is mostly unpredictable, with instances in containment observed

to either stare at personnel for long periods or randomly exhibit heightened aggression.