The SCP Experience - The Amusement Park From Hell | SCP-823

Episode Date: January 24, 2022

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-823: The Amusement Park from Hell Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-823, and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ 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

The woosh of the thriller roller coaster sounds outside my office window. The happy screams of the riders ebb and flow as the train makes its way around the twisting, looping track. The biggest screams always come when the train goes upside down. I used to love the sounds of those screams. I used to love this park. Now things are changing. I stare at my computer screen, reading all the legal ease from the safety inspectors. Last week's freak accident, if you can call it that, made headlines in the local news, and whenever someone dies or is injured at the park, an occurrence that has been happening too often lately, there's always a visit from the state

inspectors. But this is no routine inspection. If I'm reading it correctly, it means we're on a probationary period. They'll shut us down if something else happens. I don't understand it. We closed for the remainder of the week after the woman fell out of the Ferris wheel. We went over every inch of the ride with the state inspectors. I had my employees check every other ride, too. There was nothing. No problems.

We stay on top of our inspections. We have, ever since I took over Operation of the Park. One of the inspectors even said to me he thought the woman jumped. although were two young children that had been on the ride with her said otherwise. But they're just kids. Their little brains can't process the thought that mommy would want to kill herself. She jumped. There's no other explanation.

I switched tabs to look at the notification from the insurance company. More legalese. More ass covering. More blame thrown on me and my park. I look up at my office door before opening a desk drawer. and pulling out a bottle of gin and a plastic cup. I'm just about to pour myself a drink when someone knocks on the door. I put the booze away before telling them to come in.

It's Linda, my second in command. She doesn't have to say anything. The look on her face alone gets my heart hammering. What is it? I say, standing up. Something's happened, Greg. Linda says. Another accident. What?

Where? The House of Mirrors, she says, holding up her radio to me, her face turning from worry to sickness. I snatched the radio away from her and talk into it. Rick, talk to me, what's happening? I ask, wondering how the hell someone could get seriously injured in the House of Mirrors. Sure, people bumped into the mirrors all the time. But it was never very hard, and the mirrors were essentially unbreakable, Rick says over the radio. Missing his limbs.

I got turnicets on, and there's an ambulance coming. ...into the radio. I'll be right there, I tell Rick. I run past Linda, out of my building, and across to the maintenance building, which has an entrance to the underground passages we use to get around the park quickly. As I jump into one of the little electric carts, I can already see my job disappearing before my eyes. I loved this job once upon a time.

It takes me all of two minutes to get to the tunnel exit, nearest the House of Mirrors. I run up the stairs and out of the little building, letting the employee's only door swing shut behind me. I have to dodge people to get to the House of Mirrors. There are families with smiling kids, young couples holding hands, old couples with their grandkids, and an array of other people heading off to their next ride or to eat lunch. The Sunday afternoon sun isn't too hot, and the smell of popcorn and funnel cakes fills the air. I used to love all these things, but now all I can think about is some poor guy who somehow lost his limbs. That's what Rick said, but it can't be right. All of them? I see some of

Rick's security crew outside the House of Mirrors, shaking their heads at people who come up wanting to go in. At least they kept the guy inside. Otherwise, we'd have panic rippling through the park. The guys see me coming and step out of the way. One man, Derek, points to the exit of the fun house, his face somber. I move past him and walk through the exit door. Rick is kneeling next to the man just inside the doorway. I take an involuntary step back as the scene hits me. It's a young man, maybe in his early 20s, and he's clearly in shock.

He keeps moving the shredded nubs of his arms and arms. legs, looking at them with disbelief. There's a small pool of blood underneath him that would surely be larger if Rick hadn't acted quickly with the belts, no doubt, volunteered by the security guards outside. Rick looks up at me, his calm under pressure face, showing signs of cracking. He levels a thumb over his shoulder. Go check it out. Go check what out? How did this happen? I ask. Rick shakes his head. Just walk a little waist, back, follow the blood, you'll see it. I step around the young man and then around Rick, going deeper into the house of mirrors.

I follow the streaks of blood just like Rick said. When I turn a corner, I see it. The young man's severed left leg is hanging upside down from the ceiling. There's a wide pool of blood underneath it, and the leg is still dripping, albeit slowly. It doesn't look like it has been cut cleanly off. It looks like it's been ripped or nodded. off. I look closer, noticing that it's tied to the black-painted panel ceiling with strips of sinewy muscle or tendon. A glance further up the hall yields me a glimpse of the man's left arm. At least I think

it's his left, hard to tell from this distance. I bend over, put my hands on my knees, and take a few deep breaths. The coppery smell of blood invades my nose, making my nausea worse. None of this answers foremost question in my mind. How the hell did this happen? I stand up straight, just in time to see someone reflected in several mirrors as they move. It's a man, and he's carrying a severed limb, an arm. He has a blood smear in his mouth, and as I watch, he lifts the arm up to his mouth and takes a bite. I stumble back, panic severing all coherent thoughts except one. I need to get the hell out of here. There's someone in here. I say to Rick as I squeeze past him and the man with no limbs, who is now unconscious. We need to call the police. It's a man. A man did this. Rick stands up.

His radio crackles on his belt, but we both ignore it. Are you sure? You saw him? A nod, walking backward toward the exit. Derek, one of the security guards, barges in and runs into me just as I'm getting to the door. Sir, he says, we need to close the park. No, Now, something's happening. Did you see him too? I say, still sickened by the image of the man, taking a bite out of that arm. What? Derek says.

No, no, I'm serious, sir. Something's wrong here. I squeeze past Derek, listening to him, but not listening. The sound of screams hit my ears. And it takes me a moment to realize that they're not happy screams. They're scared screams. Terrified screams. People on the wide concrete walkway outside the,

Fun House are looking around in confusion. Some people run past, looking over their shoulders. Parents grab hold of their kids, sensing something is wrong. I can see the top half of the Ferris wheel from where I am. It's spinning too fast, impossibly fast. I stare at it, dumbfounded. One of the cars becomes detached and launches off. I can see three people in it, frozen in terror as they plunged to their deaths. The car hits the rattlecoaster track, sending two of the three people in it, flying through the air like rag dolls. The third person disappears from view as the mangled car falls to the ground. A train on the rattle coaster comes into view, speeding around the bend just ahead of where the Ferris wheel car struck.

I scream for it to stop, but it's no use. Even if I were there at the controls, I couldn't stop it in time. The train hits the damaged part of the track and derails. All six train cars and the 12 people in that, smash into the boulevard below. Although my view of the train hitting the ground is blocked, I know it would be a miracle for anyone to survive that, not to mention the people in the boulevard where it landed.

Sir? Derek yells in my face. I can't bring myself to look at him. I watch as another car is flipped from the fast-moving ferris wheel. And another. Get everyone out of here now! Rick shouts from behind me. He starts barking orders into his radio.

A worker and a happy. The hippo costume stumbles into view amid the screaming and terrified people, now running along the walkway in front of me. Whoever is in there is working to get the hippo head off, but struggling to do so. Suddenly snapping out of my shock, I realize that this is someone I can help. I can make a difference here. Now, I run forward, getting to the mascot just as it falls to its knees. I grip the head and pull.

It doesn't come off. It's not supposed to be this hard to get off. I put my foot on the mascot's shoulder and grip the head again, pushing with my foot and pulling with my arms. The head comes off and I fall backward, landing hard on my butt. I recognize the employee. It's a young man named Dylan. His hippo hands immediately go to his throat.

He's suffocating, choking to death. Tossing the head aside, I get up to give him the heimlich when he opens his mouth. White and fluffy, fibrous stuffing comes out of his mouth. I can see that it's also in his nose. He's trying to pull it out, but the hippo costume doesn't have fingers. I kneel in front of him and start pulling the stuffing out of his mouth. He's looking at me with wide, tear-filled eyes. His face is changing color from the lack of oxygen.

Hang in there, I say. Almost there. But it's a lie. Every chunk of stuffing I pull out seems to be replaced. His mouth just fills right back up again, as if his whole body is jammed with the stuff. His eyes roll back into his head, and he falls to the side, smacking his skull on the concrete. There's enough stuffing at my knees to fill a small teddy bear. He's dead.

I couldn't save him. I look around. There are still dozens of people in the area, looking for their loved ones, or simply cowering and crying. Hands grab me from behind and pull me to my feet. Sir, Rick says. We gotta get you out of here. He pulls me along to the underground tunnels.

I use the same electric cart I drove down here, riding in silence to the front of the park. Then he drags me up the stairs and back into the sunlight. I can see the park entrance. There are police cars, an ambulance, and a fire truck. More are showing up. I hear the whoosh of the thriller, chiller roller coaster to my left. I look and see that there are still people on it, and it's still moving. Why is that ride still going?

I ask Rick. They say they can't turn it off, Rick says. I turn back to see the terrified people rush by toward one of the loops. As the train goes upside down, one of the riders in the back falls out. Only, it's more of an ejection, thrown out by the coaster. I follow his fall and watch as he hits the ground head first, the impact snapping his neck and cracking his skull. I look back up and immediately see that something's wrong with the roller coaster.

Something has changed, and the people see it. and the people see it too. The people at the front of the coaster put their hands in front of them in a futile attempt to stop what's coming. Somehow, a horizontal pole has moved down into head height for the riders. Those at the front of the train slam into the pole,

their arms breaking first, and then their heads coming off as the train rushes underneath it. There's no escaping for the rest of the riders. Their severed heads fall to the ground in a cascade of blood, leaving the bodies to continue riding the coaster. The sick, crunching sound of the heads hitting the ground fills my ears as Rick drags me out of the park.

I try to go back in, a captain wanting to go down with his ship. But Rick doesn't let me. He keeps telling me, this isn't my fault. But I don't believe him. The truth is, I'd known that something was wrong with this place. I denied it for so long. I should have shut the place down. I should have.

But I didn't. And now I have to live with the sick. sounds of severed heads hitting the ground, the sounds of terrified screams. As more and more people stream out of the park and first responders stream into the park, I can't pull my eyes from the rides still in motion. Some of them, like the thriller, just have corpses in the seats, but others operate on their own with living people strapped in, screaming, dying. I feel like the terrible screams will go on forever.

All I want to do is to make them stop. SCP 823 is an abandoned amusement park located in the suburbs of a major American city. The site was abandoned after several violent events resulted in the deaths of hundreds of park attendees. These events, also known as Bloody Sunday, are estimated to be the peak of a 20-year cycle by the artifact that controls SCP 823. 231 to 10D's were killed and another seven injured or maimed. The site is now guarded by the SCP Foundation, as it's believed that the artifact is still active in the area.

No one is allowed to enter the grounds, and plans for demolition are currently under debate. Lasagne sur-gilled, Pucance-molyne for 15 minutes. We'd say that's their dojo. Prere to play the pleasure with the Ojo. The casino in-line that proposes the most recent machinations and the games of casino in direct.

Profite of 50 tours gratuys on Big Bas Bonanza, without exigance of mis, and with the payment instantane. Hey, I've got to. Woo-hoo! Sentire the pleasure. Play-O-Joe!

188 and plus, 1, 1-Depos only, exclude in Ontario. 50 tours gratu on the machine-a-soubizabonanza. Depos minimum of $10. Debt only showe to a way responsible. The conditions are applicable.