The SCP Experience - Tag, You're Dead | SCP-1120

Episode Date: April 4, 2022

SCP Foundation SAFE class object, SCP-1120: Tag, You're Dead This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-1120, 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 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

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Publié. Savoy. Admirate. And profite. Villaray, the voice that we love that we love. Don't ask me how I knew it was going to happen. I couldn't tell you. Maybe I've just developed a feel for these kinds of things

after so many years with the foundation. Or maybe, I'm just attuned to when an outbreak of violence is going to happen. Either way, it was the worst possible time. The museum was full. There were kids everywhere, their teachers and chaperones trying to keep them together, as they made their way from exhibition to exhibition. I had been in the back, in the employee area, when a sickening feeling took hold in my stomach.

So I rushed out of the back, not quite running, but still moving fast. I was wearing my janitor's uniform because that's what I was to anyone concerned. A janitor. A couple of museum guests gave me brief looks, but they probably thought a kid had thrown up somewhere, and I was on my way to clean it up. As I rounded the corner and looked at the Pompeii exhibition, I knew. There was something in the air, and the people around one of the exhibits seemed to sense it too. The kids all got quiet, and the adults looked around in confusion, unable to make sense of their intuition.

All these kids, I thought, there's so many. There were four rock and ash-encast statues in the exhibit, all in different positions, positions of repose. One of them was curled up in the fetal position. Another two were face down, their heads resting on their hands as if they didn't want to see the wall of death coming down on them from the volcano. The fourth figure was sitting back, its hands in front of its face, and its knees half bent. It was this figure that moved first. It was a small movement. The arm moved just a little, maybe an inch. I was still a good 15 yards away from the exhibit, but I caught the movement and a warning voice inside me screamed. A few of the kids had seen the movement

too, it seemed, because they started whining and crying. Even at a young age, these kids knew enough to realize that those long dead people weren't supposed to move. The second shift the figure made was much more pronounced, much larger. It pulled its right arm down and placed it on the stage beside it. I could hear the crackling and grinding of the pyroclastic rock as the figure moved. A cacophony of disbelief and fear erupted from the crowd. I ran forward, shouting at the parents and teachers to get their children out of there. Waving my arms frantically, I ran up and got in between the moving figure and the small crowd that was slowly dispersing away from the exhibit.

But I realized with growing terror, it wasn't just one figure that was moving, not anymore. All four of the faceless rock figures were now shifting, looking around as though they could see through the rock and solidified ash covering their faces. Faces belonging to people that had been dead for centuries. The figure that had moved first stood up. I was standing perhaps five feet from it. All that separated us was a clear plastic partition about Shin Hai and some metal poles with fake velvet ropes arcing between them. I was the nearest human, and I knew for my training that these things would always go for the nearest living bird.

I also knew that I wouldn't be living for long if the thing touched me. I would die an extremely painful death and then become one of them. Who knows? Maybe the pain wouldn't even end. There was so much we didn't know about them. The figure lunged toward me, reaching one bulbous rock handout. I ducked back, sensing that the crowd was nearly gone from the area, but the museum would still be full of people, of victims. I moved back a few steps to give myself some room, then I reached down and pressed a button sewn into the hem of my shirt.

It would send an emergency alert to the foundation. I'd have help soon. The trick was going to be making sure no one got killed before they got here to help me round up these SCPs. The other three figures were all standing now and seemed to be gathering their bearings. The first one stepped toward me, smashing through the plastic barrier and knocking down two poles.

I was still the nearest person, so I soon found that all four of them were looking in my direction. They all followed the lead figure's example and stepped toward me. They were moving slowly, and for a moment I was hopeful. But I knew that they wouldn't stay this slow, and I had to be ready. I tensed, keeping my eyes fixed on them. I'd been working at the museum as a janitor for months, so I knew the layout of the place. I knew which areas were popular with the school trips and which ones weren't. Unfortunately, I could still hear excited voices echoing around the cavernous rooms.

The lead figure took another step toward me, and I shifted back again, maintaining a distance of eight feet or so. I heard running footsteps and jingling keys coming from my right, from the ancient Egypt exhibition. The noises grew closer and then stopped. I didn't dare take my eyes away from the feet. figures in front of me, but I didn't need to look to see who it was. Darren, I said. Just turn around and leave. Get everyone out of the building now.

None of the figures were moving. They were just standing there, looking at me. What is this? Some kind of joke? Darren, the head security guard said. You're not supposed to touch these things, Frank. You're going to get fired for this. I listened with a sick stomach as Darren walked forward a few steps. This isn't a joke. Darren. I yelled as loud as I could at him. Get out of here now. But Darren didn't listen. And because of the way the room was set up, he was getting closer to the fourth figure. It had probably been a teenager when Mount Vesuvius erupted over Pompeii, judging by the size and stature of the figure. This fourth figure turned its head toward Darren as the security

guard approached. Whoa, that's pretty freaky, Darren said, laughing. I should have made a move when I had the chance, I thought. If I had run while I was still the closest person to all of them, they probably would have chased me, but it was too late now. Screaming at him did no good. He just laughed and said I should take up acting. When he was about six feet away from the fourth figure, it lunged at him, touching him with one rock-covered hand. Darren froze where he was, mid-stride. His mouth and eyes open and surprise. The pyroclastic rock started forming at his feet, covering his shoes and growing up his legs like a strange and fast-growing fungus. Darren couldn't move his body, but he could apparently still make noise.

And the cry that came out of him, although somewhat subdued due to his frozen state, was bone-chilling nonetheless. It was a cry of pure anguish. The figure that had touched him resumed the position it had held before activation. It was no longer a threat. But the three in front of me were. I wondered briefly why they hadn't made a move toward me and decided to stay in the same position as long as they didn't move.

Maybe I can just stand here until the foundation assets come, I thought. But as soon as Darren's terrible transformation was complete, all three figures advanced toward me, moving fast. I turned and ran, leading them out of the Pompeii exhibition and through the dinosaur room. I jumped over the ropes guarding the T-Rex skeleton in the center of the room and ran between the bone legs. Behind me, the three figures followed suit.

Two of them smashed through the legs and the metal poles that were holding the skeleton up. As those pieces of the skeleton not held up with wires from the ceiling came crashing down, I looked over my shoulder to see that the obstructions had not slowed them down. If anything, they were gaining on me. I lunged up a stone stairwell to the second floor, taking the steps three at a time. The sound of the figures clomping across the marble floor sounded as if someone was constantly dropping rock from the ceiling, getting closer and closer to me. I made it up the stairs and ducked into the amphitheater,

swinging the soundproof metal door shut behind me. The place was empty, thank goodness. It seemed that the museum had been fully evacuated. A great smashing sound caused me to turn just in time to see one of the metal doors flying at me. I ducked, and the deformed door passed by me where my head had just been. Somehow, I managed to keep on my feet, turning to run again at a full sprint

as the figures kept up their incessant pursuit. I slammed through the emergency exit door and cursed myself for coming this way. I was in a little alley near the back of the museum, and there was nowhere to go but out into the city. I could see people gathered at the end of the alley, school children who had just been ushered outside from the museum. The clomping rock sound came from the other side of the door.

It was either run or die, so I ran. But a little bit of inspiration struck as I headed toward the alley mouth. The building next door had a fire escape, the kind where the metal stairs are automatically up until you put weight on them, and then they fold down to meet the alley floor. There was a closed dumpster situated just under the fire escape. I jumped on the dumpster and then up to the fire escape, grabbing the metal with my hands and pulling myself up. I looked down to see the three stone figures looking up at me from the alley floor.

I was still the nearest person, and I wanted to keep them there. Smiling down at them, I thought I had outsmarted the SCP entities, but I was wrong. The lead one walked up to the brick wall underneath the fire escape and punched into it like it was made of styrofoam. I felt the tremor from the hit vibrate the fire escape. It reached up with its other hand and smashed its fist into the wall above its head. Then it did the same with its right foot. It was climbing up to me. The others followed Sue, moving quickly as they climbed up. I ran up the fire escape stairs, making it to the third landing,

just as the lead figure stepped over the railing on the first. Looking down through the little slats of the metal platform, I watched as the figure stopped, turning its head to look through the window there. Oh, no, I thought, I've led them right to more people. I ran back down to the second landing and yelled down at the figure. I'm up here! The figure turned its attention back to me, while the other two figures got onto the fire escape platform,

which groaned under their collective weight. They could run just fine on flat ground, but it seemed they couldn't move all that fast upstairs. So I managed to keep them on the platform below the whole way up to the roof of the six-story building. There were no stairs up to the roof, just a ladder. And since they didn't have fingers, only stone slabs for hands, I thought I might be able to keep them there on the top platform. Not being able to use ladders effectively didn't stop them, but it did slow them down. Once I saw they were on their way up, wrapping their arms around the ladder as they climbed,

I knew I had to figure something out quickly. I ran to the front of the building and looked down at the street. I heard sirens off in the distance and saw some police cruisers escorting a couple of foundation vehicles. About damn time! But they wouldn't be able to get up to the roof for several minutes at least. I knew I'd be dead by then. I glanced over at the ladder and saw the lead figure's rock head pop up. Shit!

There was a building bordering the one I was on, separated by an alley, just like the museum had been separated from this one. The only difference was, and this was a pretty big difference. The building next door was the same height as the one I was on, six stories. I ran over to the edge and looked down. I checked the distance and knew in my gut that it was too far. I couldn't make the jump, but I didn't have much of a choice. A glance over my shoulder told me that the lead figure was on the roof. And it was running at me, closing the distance fast.

Unable to do anything else, I ran toward the sprinting stone figure, giving myself a little room. I turned around and started running the other way, feeling and hearing how close the figure was behind me. I almost expected to feel the touch of stone on the back of my neck. Then I was at the edge of the roof, launching off the upraised edge with my right foot, using all the strength I could muster after the exhausting chase. I kicked my legs and windmilled my arms as I soared over the alley, willing myself to make it. But I knew it wasn't enough. I put my arms out to hook the edge of the roof as my chest slammed into the side of the building.

The impact knocked my breath out, and I was fairly certain I'd cracked a couple of ribs. Something struck the building just under my feet, and I looked down to see the lead figure falling down to the alley floor. It had hit the wall about two inches under my dangling feet. Close one. but I wasn't out of the woods yet. I'd tried to scramble up, but my ribs sent tendrils of pain running through me, stealing the breath I'd just caught and sapping my energy.

I heard a familiar noise from the opposite building and looked behind me to see one of the other stone figures launch itself off the building toward me. I pulled my legs up toward my chest as the figure reached out, hitting the side of the brick building where my legs had just been, before falling down to the alley floor. Then the third figure emerged and threw itself at me. And as soon as it left the roof, I knew it had me.

I let go with my right hand, letting my body swing from my left arm, putting my life on those exhausted muscles. The figure struck the edge of the roof next to me, one or two inches from touching me as I swung there from one arm. I watched the third figure land in the alley below, next to the other two. I swung my other arm up and, using strength I didn't know I had left, managed to get my right leg up over the edge of the roof. I rolled my shaking body onto the flat surface of the roof,

wincing at the pain in my ribs. A ragged sigh of relief escaped me, and I couldn't help but laugh a little bit. Hearing commotion below, I got onto my hands and knees and peered down the side of the building, seeing a foundation team corraling the three figures into a specially designed truck

that would hold them until they got the SCPs into containment cells. They'd located me with the GPS device in my shirt. No one else would die today. One of the foundation guys looked up at me and waved once all the stone figures were sealed in the truck. I lifted my arm and waved back. SCP 1120 is the collective name for a number of human skeletons encased in what appears to be pyroclastic igneous rock. Although exposed bone may be shattered and destroyed by conventional means,

the epidermal rock layer encasing SCP 1120 has been shown to be incredibly resistant to damage. Instances of SCP 1120 are animate, though whether they are sapient has yet to be determined. These instances will go from dormant to active for a reason or reasons yet to be determined. Upon entering an active state, an instance of SCP 1120 will patrol the surrounding area and attempt to seek out a living human subject. If it locates a suitable human, subject, SCP 1120 will immediately charge and attempt to touch the subject. When active, these instances exhibit inhuman strength and have been observed to break through walls and destroy sizable pieces of urban infrastructure while in pursuit.

However, pursuit is not singular. Upon spotting another, closer subject, SCP 1120 will adjust its course in order to pursue the more proximal target. If any part of a subject's skin comes in contact with SCP11, The instance will immediately cease pursuit. Upon contact, the subject, hereafter referred to as SCP 1120-1, will enter a state of paralysis, remaining frozen in the position in which they were last touched by SCP 1120.

The instance of SCP 1120 that initiated contact will assume a supine position and return to a dormant state. Over the course of the next three minutes, all skin, muscle, and organ tissue belonging to SCP P1120-1 will transmute into igneous rock, beginning with the souls of the feet and ending with the crown of the head. The process is assumed to be extremely painful. Scans of subjects undergoing transformation have indicated immense nerve damage and severe internal bleeding prior to the completion of the process. Lazzangue sur-gillet, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes.

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