The SCP Experience - The Bog | SCP-3106

Episode Date: January 6, 2023

Check out my brand new UFO podcast here: THEY'RE OUT THERE SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-3106: The Bog This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3106, 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. #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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$10 dollars, pay to pay are responsible. The conditions apply. says. He sits slumped in the passenger seat, eyes half open and mouth agape. His springy red hair juts out from under his wool cap. I don't understand how he's so calm. I feel sick, I say, I'm going to pull over. No, Fleck says, we're almost there. Taking my foot off the gas,

I let the car coast slowly as I lean forward and put my forehead on the steering wheel. Oh, God, oh, no, God. I'm going to jail. whisper. Something sharp jabs into my ribs through my sweater, causing me to jump. Ow! I say, looking down to see Flex knife there. It's tip, pressed to a divot between my ribs. Keep fucking driving, Flex says. The intensity in his dark eyes sends a sickening chill through my body. It's a look I hadn't seen before tonight. It's a look that came into his eyes right before ye. There's no blood on the knife. Not anymore. He must have cleaned it while I was expelling the contents of my my stomach over an hour ago. I face forward and ease the gas pedal back down. The knife blade

stays between my ribs for several long moments. Then it's gone. Fleck puts the weapon back into a jacket pocket. Headlights come around the curve about a mile ahead. I stiffen and without thinking, ease up on the gas. Drive normal, God damn it, Fleck says. Keep to the speed limit. It's a fucking cop, I say, voice rising in pitch. It's a fucking cop. It's not a cop. Just lean back. Keep driving. I forced myself to do what he says. Soon enough, I see it's not a cop. Just a regular sedan. It whips by, two ships passing in the night. I wish with all my heart that I was in that other car going the other way. I'm stuck here with Fleck. We drive on in silence. I glance into the rearview mirror every few seconds,

expecting to see flashing red and blue lights coming up behind us any minute. Okay, slow down, Harbin, Fleck says. It's up here somewhere. We both lean forward, peering along the sides of the dark road, looking for a turnoff. I realize I'm imagining relief ahead when we get off the road, as if somehow this nightmare will be over as soon as we make the turn. But I know there won't be relief. Not for a long time.

Maybe not ever. Not after tonight. There, Flex says, pointing with one stubby finger. I see it. A dirt turnout sandwiched between the trees on the left side of the road. I make the turn, bumping off the pavement and onto the hard-packed dirt. Just follow this, he says. I forget how far it is, maybe a mile.

I say nothing. I keep driving, going slowly while my mind goes fast. I think of all the movies and shows I've seen where a situation like this plays out. and a saying repeats in my head like a mantra. Two can keep a secret if one is dead. Will Fletk try to kill me when we get there? I have to consider it a possibility. After what I've seen of him tonight, I can't discount anything.

My heart clatters and my vision narrows. I wish I hadn't drank so much. I wish I hadn't come out at all tonight. But I did. I drank and I snorted and I went along. And there's nothing I can do to change that. The dirt road ends in some kind of clearing. Fleck tells me where to park.

He has me back the car up to the edge of the clearing, directing me without ever getting out of the car. Okay, he says. Shut the car off. I do what he says, removing the keys and moving to put them in my pocket. Ah! He says, wagging a finger and then holding out his hand. Give him over.

Why? I say. You think I'm going to run? I don't know what the fuck you're thinking. right now, Fleck says. But I do know that you can't run if you don't have the keys, so give him over. He is going to kill me, I think. I hand the keys over.

Good. Now pop the trunk and get out. I do what he says, getting out and heading to the back, lifting the half-open trunk. The dead man is contorted and jammed in the small space. His eyes are closed under his frasel of thin gray hair. The homeless man's stench hangs over the trunk like a cloud. And there's something else there. A worse stink.

The odor of fear and death. As I stand there, looking down, I remember first seeing him. Weed just left Tiffany's tavern, and we're heading over to Empire Billiards when Fleck told me to pull over. What? Why? I said, looking around. We were in an industrial part of a dying town in the middle of the night. For lease signs on boarded-up storefronts were common. Weedy lots, vehicle repair shops,

and pawnbrokers took up the rest of this base. I want to talk to this guy, Fleck said. That was when I saw him, the homeless man, trudging along the sidewalk with a limp. You know him? Yeah. Fleck said, a smile in his voice. I know him. I pulled over just ahead of the guy. Before I got the car in park, Fleck was already out, leaving his door open as he approached the man.

Hey, buddy, how you doing tonight? Fleg said. An uneasy feeling seated itself in my chest. Fleck was the kind of guy who picked fights at bars because he thought it was funny. I hadn't been out with him in a couple of months because he was a little crazy. But when he called me and told me he'd scored some coke, I didn't hesitate. As I got out of the car on the deserted road, I saw that the homeless man had turned around and was walking away. Fleck was following him, saying,

Where are you going, old man? Don't walk away from me. Let's go. I shouted. Come on, man. Just leave him alone. Fleck ignored me. And as he came up beside the man,

I saw the glint of a blade in his right hand. The hand pistoned in, the blade disappearing from view behind Fleck's bulk. The homeless man cried out, and I knew Fleck had just stabbed him. What the fuck? I yelled, running toward him. Fleck stabbed the man again

and pushed him into a weed-strewn lot between a second-hand store and an empty brick building. By the time I got there, Fleck was straddling the guy, stabbing him again and again. There was so much blood. It just kept coming out of the wounds on the guy's chest. I stumbled over to the edge of the lot and vomited for a good two minutes, my mind reeling. When I finally wiped my mouth and turned around, Fleck was backing my car up to the empty lot. No!

I said as he got out of the car and opened the trunk. No fucking way! Fleck stopped and looked at me. his face calm. He didn't say anything. He just looked at me until I could no longer hold his gaze. Help me get him in the trunk. Still averting my gaze, I shook my head. You're coked to the gills and drunk, Fleck said. Unless you want to go to jail, help me get him in the trunk. No one will miss him. He's a fucking nobody. I couldn't believe this was happening. The sound of rushing blood filled my ears. Fleck stepped closer.

Help me get him in the trunk, Harbin. Unless you want something similar to happen to you. I took a deep breath and stepped over to the homeless man. Help me get him out of the trunk, Fleck says, bringing me back to the present. We're just going to leave him here in this clearing? I ask. It's not a clearing, idiot.

Flex says. It's a swamp. I turn and look out at the clearing, noticing for the first time little glints of the quarter moon reflected off the water. It's a fucking bog. I say, You're kidding me, right?

You're going to put him in a bog? Do you want to get caught? Have you ever heard of bog people? What the fuck are you talking about? Fleck says in his nonchalant voice. Bogs don't decompose bodies, I say. They preserve them. Fleck looks out at the watery area.

Bullshit, he says. Just help me. I shake my head, but step forward to help him. He reaches in and grabs the guy under the arms and I work on the legs. As we lift the man out, his eyes shoot open and he gasps. I shout and jump back, dropping his legs. Fleck is forced to drop the guy's body. He's still alive, I say, backing away. The homeless man's eyes are full of pain as they roll in his head. He coughs up blood. Jesus Christ, Fleck says, shaking his head. He squats next to the guy and rolls him over twice

before the guy hits the water. I stare at the man's body as it sinks. slowly into the bog. Flex stalks off and comes back with a stick, which he uses to shove the man further into the water. When he's satisfied, Flex sets the stick down and looks at me. We're done, he says, standing up and retrieving the keys from a pocket. Let's go. He holds the keys out for me in his left hand, waiting.

But his right hand is in his pocket. I don't have to see it to know it's around his knife. RBC Training Ground has discovered potential in over 20,000 Canadian athletes and counting. Your story could be next. If you've got the drive, they'll help you find your path to the Olympics. Let's see what you've got. Sign up for free at rbc trainingground.ca. I look from the keys to his dark, emotionless eyes.

Come on, he says. Get your keys and we'll go. I take a step forward and cup my hands. Toss them, I say. I'll catch him. Without taking his eyes off me, Fleck says. I don't want him to get lost in the grass. That's the last thing we need.

Here, I'll bring him to you. He takes a step forward and I take a step back. What is your deal? I'm trying to give you your keys back. I'm not going to hurt you. There's a gurgling sound from the bog. Bubbles coming to the surface and burst, right where the homeless man's body went down.

Fleck steps forward. I debate running, but I'd never get it. away, not while Fleck has the keys. But if I can get the keys and somehow get away from him, Fleck steps forward again. We're five feet apart. I lean forward and reach my hand out, but Fleck moves his left hand back, keeping the keys just out of reach. The bog gurgles behind him. This time, it's louder. I dart my hand forward to snatch the keys, but Fleck is faster. My hand touches nothing but empty air, and before I know what's happening, the knife is out and swing,

toward my neck. Flinching back, I feel to tip of the blade part the skin on the left side of my neck. Reflexively, I clamp a hand to the minor wound as I backpedal. Flex drops the keys as he springs toward me, leading with a knife. I managed to bat the weapon away before I tip over uneven ground and land on my back. Fleck doesn't stop. He smiles savagely as he moves in, knowing he has me. He swings the blade again just as I kick a leg out and strike him in the stomach. He stumbles back toward the bog, but not before cutting my leg open with the blade. He straightens up and starts to come forward again.

But he doesn't make it far before a skeletal hand wraps around from behind, grabbing him by the neck. Making a choking sound, Flex struggles against the hand as the figure emerges, shifting its position. It's a skeleton, its rapidly decomposing skin, still falling off its bones into wet piles at the edge of the bog. The disintegrating tennis shoes it wears are the same ones the homeless man was wearing. Fleck strikes out with a knife.

But there are no vital organs to hit, no skin to puncture, nothing but bone. The skeleton jams its free hand up into Fleck's chest cavity. A torrent of blood rushes around the glistening bones as the skeleton works. After a few moments of choked screams from Fleck, the bony hand comes out, gripping his entrails, which it tosses to the ground. The hand goes back in and retrieves major organs, tossing them among his entrails. It lets go with Flecks neck. allowing him to fall to the ground.

Then the skeleton gets on its hands and knees and begins rolling around in the steaming pile of organs and entrails. Some of them, it stuffs inside its own ribcage. Somehow, these organs stay put. Soon enough, it crawls over to Fleck's twitching body and works to remove his bones. As the sound of tearing flesh fills my ears, I crawl forward and find my car keys where Fleck dropped them.

I crawl back over to my car and take a moment to check the wound on my life. leg. It's bleeding pretty good. I'll probably need stitches. As I open the driver's side door, I glance back over at the skeleton. It's wearing the top half of flex skin like an oversized coat, and it's working on freeing the bones from the bottom half. I'm guessing it will wear that skin like pants. In my car, I retrieve a wad of tissues from the glove compartment and jam it down over my leg wound. Then I fire the car up and drive away from the bog, shaking like I've got hypothermia. I can't help but glance into the rearview mirror as I go.

What I see there will be with me forever, but I'll never tell anyone about it. After all, three people can keep a secret if two of them are dead. SCP 3106 is a small bog of unknown depth located in the northern United States. SCP 3106's anomalous properties manifest when an organism from the animal kingdom enters the water. When making contact with the water, the subject will suffer from a cognito-hazardous effect and drown itself. Once dead, subjects undergo rapid decomposition of all organs and tissues except for bone tissue. When 50% of the backbone tissue is exposed, the subject becomes an instance of SCP 3106-1

and will pull itself out of the decomposing body and onto dry land. of SCP 3106-1 will attack other organisms with the goal of removing the organism's flesh from its skeletal structure. Instances are able to adhere this flesh to their skeletal structure. They will attach the flesh to their bodies in a haphazard manner. Tissues or organs may be placed in anatomically incorrect areas. Oftentimes, upon removing the skeletal structure from the flesh, instances will engage in a rolling behavior to attach the flesh as quickly as possible. which increases the potential for organs to burst or to cause severe tissue damage. The instances seem satisfied with any tissue and organs, even if they have been damaged.

Instances will discontinue hostile behavior when there is flesh covering the entirety of their skeletal structure. This flesh adheres to the skeleton for a period of two months before it begins peeling off, usually in large sections. Additionally, instances of SCP 3106-1, do not discriminate, utilizing an organism's flesh as long as it is a member of the animal kingdom.