The SCP Experience - Stretchy the Clown | SCP-3036

Episode Date: July 27, 2022

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-3036: Stretchy the Clown This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3036, 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. #drscp #scp #scpfoundation #doctorscp #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

I hesitated my hand over the door release button. The insane, cackling voices from the hallway mocked me. If I released him, would he kill us? Would he help us? How much can you trust a clown who was created to hunt and kill? His three friends, if they were his friends, were right outside in the hallway. I had no idea how many people they'd already killed. Half a dozen, at least.

And there was no preventing them from getting into the room. I knew that. I looked down at the door release button below my shaking hand. Tara crouched behind me, frightened eyes bouncing between me and the door to the hallway. What to do? Release the clown or take our chances? Before I could decide, the door to the hallway burst open in a shower of wood splinters. I stood back in the observation room, watching her work.

She sat at the desk abutting the window into the containment room. room, writing notes down. Today was the day. I'd promised myself that I would ask her out on a proper date. Of course, I'd made that same promise to myself more times than I could count. We'd been co-researchers on the project for five months now, helping Dr. Henderson with his work. And for four months now, I'd been agonizing over asking her out, constantly second-guessing myself, wondering if she was just being polite when she touched my arm and laughed at my bad jokes, wondering if her expectant silences when we walked to our cars together meant anything at all. This was the story of my life. I'd never been a suave, confident, or daring guy. I'd never

been brave, any way you cut it. Rejection had always seemed like one of the worst things in the world. And if Tara rejected me, it would make our working. relationship, uncomfortable. I'd feel guilty for putting her in that position. But the possibilities if she said yes. I found her achingly beautiful as she leaned over her notepad, pen in her finely featured hand, tawny hair tucked behind a petite ear, soft eyes fixed on her work, red and white makeup scrawled across her face. Wait, I nearly jumped. Seeing SCP 3036's face pressed against the observation window, just be on Tara's head. He had the red and white clown makeup scrawled sloppily across his face, not her. His ghoulish smile and wide, insane eyes darted around,

although I knew he couldn't actually see anything from that side of the glass. Seeing his ghastly face snapped me out of my Terra trance. I don't mean to scare you, I said to her, but he's doing that window thing again. Tara looked up with a small smile in her face. I know. I saw him creep up out of the corner of my eye, she giggled. My heart beat for her. Those giggles made my day. Tara, Austin, where are you? SCP 3036 called out in his sing-song voice. His head bobbed from side to side as he called out, his frizzy, multicolored hair bouncing atop his skull. Tara pressed the transmit button and then spoke. Hey, stretchy, I'm here, he said. How are you today?

Just fine and dandy, my lady. Fine and dandy. Is Mr. Mopey there with you? Tara looked back at me, smiling. He's here, she said. Moping around. Stretchy laughed, a crazy laugh, and bounced around his cell. I tried not to smile.

I'm not Moby, I said. I'm brooding. There's a difference. Brooding is manly and mysterious. Be still my beating heart. Tara joked. The lights suddenly went out. The hum of electricity dying down his power to the entire room failed.

A dim emergency light came on at the corner of the room. Uh, that's not good, I said, stepping over to the door. I opened it and looked out into the hall. Everything was dark, except a few emergency lights dotting the hall. Is it out in the whole building? Tara asked, suddenly next to me at the door. Looks like it, I said. We shared a look in the dim light, the reality of the power outage dawning on us.

Then we turned around to look at stretchy cell. We'd never had any problems with him, but that didn't mean we wouldn't. Plus, there were a ton of other dangerous humanoids at Site 43. The power outage meant that some of the redundancies designed to keep those SCPs in place were now useless. A few security personnel ran past in the hall. Just after they disappeared around the corner, a loud crash rang out, like a concrete wall getting busted in. What was that? Terra asked. I shook my head, swallowing hard. I don't know, but we should stay here. It's protocol during a power outage.

We backed into the room. I shut and locked the door, then looked into a stretchy cell. I couldn't see him, thanks to the limited illumination. Gunfire erupted from down the hall. loud even through the closed door. The staccato sound was soon accompanied by screams of pain and terror. Fear coursed through me. My hand started to shake as a sick feeling settled in my stomach. The lights came back on.

The hum of electricity building to a steady drone as computers and equipment powered back up. It did little to help the near paralyzing fear I was experiencing. The gunfire and screams continued, seeming to get closer. Stretchy's face was pressed against the glass, but he wasn't smiling. At least, not with his mouth. The paint on his face gave him a permanent fake smile.

Let me out, he said. You need to let me out. I ignored him, sitting down in front of the computer and signing in so I could access the security camera feeds. Good idea, Tara said, coming up behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder. Let's see what's going on. I pulled up the camera feed for the north entrance, where I thought the commotion was coming from.

The first feed came up black. The words, no signal, appeared after a couple of seconds. I pulled up another one and couldn't help the sharp intake of breath, as I saw what was happening in the hallway, not far from where we sat. Three gruesome clowns were tearing through the security officers taking a stand in the hallway. There was a short, round clown. an average-sized one, and a tall one whose face shifted and changed as we watched. They all wore tattered, colorful onesies that were splattered with blood.

Bullets didn't seem to do much to them, although they tried to avoid getting shot as much as possible. They ducked into offices and found furniture to hurl with superhuman strength down the hallway. Then they rushed down the hall and attacked the dazed security officers. I watched as the fat one unhinged his jaw and bit off one security officer. officer's head in a torrent of blood. He then swallowed the head, and I could see the bulge go down his throat, like a living cartoon.

Let me out! Stretchy said. They're coming for me! I looked up at Tara. She looked back at me. Turning back to the desk, I hit the transmit button to talk to Stretchy. I can't do that, I said.

Well, then you better get the hell out of here. He said. They'll kill, kill you. I released the transmit. button and turned around, thinking only of getting Tara out of here. But as I stood up, she surprised me. I think we should let him out, she said. I could do nothing but look at her, speechless. We know what he's capable of, she said. Maybe he can take them on, or at least distract them until a mobile task force can get here. What if they're coming to break him out? I said. What if he

kills us immediately? Tara shook her head. pursed and I said, he won't. He doesn't have that in him. Believe me, I'm a good judge of character. I hesitated, thinking. Please, Austin, Tara said, putting a hand on my arm. On one condition, I replied, you're not here when I let him out. You leave, get to safety, and I'll do it. No way, this is my idea. I'm not leaving you here alone. Then we're not doing it. I'll drag you out of the room if I have to. Tara's eyes grew dark as she glared up at me.

But I could tell the anger was mixed with something else. Something they gave me a little thrill of hope. Her eyes left mine and went to the computer screen. Oh, God. She said. I think it's too late. I followed her gaze, seeing that the clowns were no longer visible

on the camera feed from the nearby hallway. Oh, shit! I said, just before a voice called from the hallway. Stretchy! It's your old pal. How masky! This was followed by insane laughter from the three clowns. The doorknob rattled.

Hello? Anybody in there? The voice called. Let me in. Let me in so I can rip up your skinny, skin, skin. Torrents of deranged laughter scraped across my nerves. I pulled Tara back into the corner and stepped in front of her without thinking. The button to open stretchy cell was to my right, but I still wasn't convinced he would

do anything but kill us. My hand shook a couple of inches above the button. The laughter changed as they banged on the door again. I looked back at Tara. Her eyes bounced between me and the door. The door burst open, sending wood splinters everywhere. I reached out with my right hand. The tall clowns stepped into the room first,

looking at me with his shifting face. For a moment, my own face, smeared with garish makeup, stared back at me. Then it continued shifting. The other two clowns crowded in, Behind him, stinking of blood and death and pungent body odor. Up close, they looked like nightmares from hell circus. Of course, so did Stretchy, but I'd gotten used to him.

Welly, well, well, Masky said. His shifting faces smiling down at us. Stinks like sex in here. He and the other two clowns laughed like it was the funniest joke in the world. But it's about to stink like dead humans. The Fat one said after their laughter died to a trickle. An arm shot out of the cell doorway of the other side of the room, stretching out and cracking Maskey in the face, sending him flying back to the others.

The arm zoomed back through the partially open door, the one I'd opened just as the three clowns burst in. Then the reinforced door opened all the way and stretchy ducked out of his containment cell. He winked at us before charging the three clowns, his arm stretching out to strike them as they got up off the ground. I reached back and grabbed Terra as the fighting intensified. We ran over to the containment cell, scrambling inside and closing the door partway. As I turned around to watch the fight, I saw the fat clown gnawing on Stretchy's left arm

near the shoulder joint. Meanwhile, Stretchy was fighting off Maskey with his other arm. The third clown yanked on Stretchy's left arm, severing it with the fat one's help. Stretchy screamed and kicked the fat one in the crotch, sending him crashing into one of the wooden office chairs in the room. The chair broke apart under the clown's weight. Masky then managed to trip Stretchy, getting him on the floor. While the fat woman was still writhing and trying to get up, the other two started stomping Stretchy in the face.

It looked like Stretchy was beaten. But if they killed him, Tara and I would be next. I couldn't let that happen. I turned to my coworker and told her to stay put. Don't go out there, Austin! She yelled. Ignoring her, I crept out of the cell, and snagged piece of broken chair.

It was about a foot and a half long and sharp where it had broken. It goes nothing, I thought, running toward Maskey, who had his back to me. I jammed the piece of wood into the back of his leg. He screamed out and turned around. His backhand was like being hit in the chest with a bowling ball,

dropped from a three-story building. I flew back, crashing into the wall next to the cell door. Something rattled painfully in my chest where he'd hit me. But the dissoned, distraction had worked. Stretchy was up again, fighting the three clowns using his one remaining arm and his legs. The fight took them into the hallway, where the sounds continued. Tara was suddenly beside me,

looking down with concern in her eyes. Are you okay? I don't think so. I said, smiling. I think I broke a couple of ribs. Help we'll be here soon, she said, tears coming into her eyes. Hey, Tara, I said. What, Austin? Would you like to grab a drink with me one of these days? Maybe when I get out of the hospital. Her eyes filled with pity. The pain I felt in my stomach made the broken ribs feel like a stubbed toe.

Oh, Austin. She said, sniffling. I have a boyfriend. It's pretty serious. I couldn't speak for a long moment. For real? No. She said with a little laugh.

No, not for real. I've been waiting four months for you to ask me out. That's not funny, I said, smiling. Yes, she said. Yes, it is. From the hallway, the sound of gunfire erupted again, signaling the arrival of a mobile task force. I barely noticed it.

I was on cloud nine. Or maybe I was going into shock. Either way, I felt pretty good about everything. The gunfire died down quickly, and the sounds of fighting stopped. Stretchy stumbled back into the room, leaking blood everywhere because both his arms were missing. He slid down the wall nearby to sit on the floor. Then he looked over at Tara and me. His black-inked eyebrows lifted high, his red-rimmed mouth smiling wide.

Your arms, Tara said. Are, they'll grow back, Stretchy said. They always do. The real question is, did he finally ask you out? Tara nodded. Just did. Finally! Stretchy said, laughing his insane laugh.

Nothing like a near-death experience to bring out your priorities. His laughter continued, along with the blood spurting out of what was left of his arms. You kids are all right. He said after a moment, I'm glad I decided not to kill you when you let me out. Lasagne sur-gely, Pucance-Moyerned for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Prere to play.

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Depos minimum of $10. Depoeighed to pay for responsibly. The conditions is applied. SCP 3036 is a humanoid entity entirely made out of human flesh, muscles, and assorted bodily fluids, standing at six feet tall and weighing 220 pounds. Black, white, and red ink designs are tattooed on the entity's face and along its upper and lower body. SCP 3036 shows no signs of a nervous system, leaving it incapable of sensing touch. Additionally, the entity contains no traces of a bone structure

or reproductive system. Despite this, the entity is sapient and fully capable of completing activities that would require higher brain functions and a homeostatic environment. SCP 3036 can speak and read in English. Personnel interacting with the entity describe it as calm and blunt

when it comes to individualized conversations between itself and psychologists. SCP 3036 is capable of stretching itself to anomalous length. The longest recorded attempt being 47 meters. The entity does not react with discomfort to being stretched at such lengths. Researchers have often found it stretching itself in its containment cell when no other recreational activities are possible.

When damaged, either from performing or being harmed, SCP 3036 is capable of regenerating lost tissue in a short amount of time.