The SCP Experience - The Bus to Hell | SCP-3583

Episode Date: October 3, 2022

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-3583: The Bus to Hell This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-3583, 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

Lazang sur-gillet, Puisance-Moyerned 15 minutes. Oh, you'd say that's the Dojo! Prere to play! Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo! The casino in-line

that proposes the most recent machine-a-sou and the games to Casino in direct. Profite of 50 tours on Bix Bas Bonanza, without the payments instantane.

Hey, I've gained! Woo-hoo! Sonture the pleasure! Play-Ojo! 18-10 and plus, 1-Depo SOUKKINNNNN 50 tours, 50 tours,

50-tour-gene-Bus DePos Minimimimmonin of 10 dollars. Beye, I'm sorry to be responsible. The conditions apply. This episode is brought to you by Nespresso. Hear that? That's your next obsession. Every coffee, a new world.

Every sip, a new taste. This is the new Nespresso. One touch, endless possibilities. Iced, flavored, long, short. Because some days call for that espresso kick. And sometimes, a smooth, silky latte just wins. It's exceptional but effortless. Like actually effortless.

Simply press, brew and explore. Nispresso, what else? Keep exploring at nespresso.com. There he is, I said, pointing at the man standing just beyond the schoolyard fence. Gerard stood next to me in the faculty office that had been set aside for us months ago. We were both peering out the window through slitted blinds. Behind us, sitting in the office, were the school principal and one other foundation agent by the name of Grady. He doesn't look like much, Gerard said.

It was the kind of answer I'd come to expect from him. There was doubt in his voice. To be fair, he was right. The guy didn't look like much. He was in his mid-20s, with strawberry blonde hair and clean-shaven, freckled cheeks. He wore a purple polo shirt and khaki slacks. I pegged him as no taller than 5'8. As he stood at the street corner, he made a show of looking at his phone impatiently,

like he was waiting to escort his kid home. Even though the guy didn't look like much, I couldn't let Gerard's comment hang in the air. What? You think all pedophiles have a certain look? I said. Just because he doesn't look menacing, doesn't mean jack shit. I looked into him. That's the guy. Principal Torres stood up and stepped over.

I made room for him to look out the window. I've seen him before. He started showing up last week. You ever seen him leave with any children? I asked. Oh, no, Torres said. We run a tighter ship than that. You're sure that's him? Gerard asked. I sighed and pulled out my phone.

After working for a minute with my thumbs, I pulled up a news story and showed it to Gerard. There was a picture of the guy whose name was Sam Darabond. Below a headline that read, Child Killer walks on technicality. I showed it to Principal Torres and then Grady, who I knew didn't need convincing. Both Grady and I had kids in the school. Okay, Gerard said, wringing his hands. So we call the police. Surely he's not allowed within a hundred yards of a school.

And then what? I said. Wait for him to come back after he serves a couple of months? I was about to continue when Grady spoke from his seat against the wall by the door. We have a unique. opportunity here, gentlemen, he said in his commanding voice. A very unique one indeed. The system has failed us. The police botched the evidence and let this man go free. And make no mistake, he will kill again. If it's not a child from this school, it will be a child from another.

So if we let him go now, we'll have to live with that blood on our hands. And I, for one, We'll regret that far more than any action we take against this pedophile and murderer. There was silence in the office, the air, suddenly heavy. After a few long moments, I spoke again. Grady and I have children in this school. We're going to do this. There's no question about it. If you two don't want to be involved, that's okay.

Just tell us now because we're running out of time. But while you decide, keep this in mind. There will be no evidence. There will be no body. He will simply disappear off the face of the earth. This earth, at least. What about the children? Principal Torres asked.

Won't they see it? I shook my head. That's why your help would be useful. If you keep any kids from getting on the bus for just seven minutes, an anomalous effect will take place. The kids will enter a fugue state. They won't remember a thing. It's only if they're allowed to get on the bus of their own accord that they recall the ride.

And you'll make sure none of the kids get off the bus outside of their stop? Torres asked. Of course, I said. You have my word. Torres turned away, facing his desk and stroking his salt and pepper goatee. Okay, he said after a moment. I'll do it. Good, I said.

Then turned to Gerard. Fine, the man said. His pale green eyes stuck to the floor. I'll help. Grady got up from his seat, his grim, Stonehenge face serious, but his eyes alight with excitement. Gerard, you help Principal Torres, he said. Franklin and I will get the pedophile on the bus. Torres and Gerard nodded.

Five minutes later, the school let out for the day. It was 3.15. I was standing outside, peeking around the corner of the building. The guy, Darabond, was still there. But now, as children poured out of the school and headed for the nearby buses, he looked at the previously empty schoolyard with hunger on his face. His head jutted forward from his shoulders as his eyes dragged across the kids. I felt a rage swell inside of me,

and I had to resist the urge to walk out and crack him in the skull with my service weapon. If I did that, I would beat him to death in front of all the witnesses, parents and children and teachers. I couldn't do that. I had to be patient. The minutes ticked by slowly, but right on time, at 3.20, the bus appeared. It always seemed to manifest right next to one of the other buses, often sandwiched between two. If you didn't know to look for it, you would swear it had been there the whole time. Or maybe that was just one of its tricks, making you think it had been there. Either way, no one seemed to notice that there was suddenly one more yellow bus sitting there, waiting for kids to board.

I came around the corner and walked casually toward the short man on the corner. I was wearing a loose-fitting hooded jean jacket to conceal my weapon, along with jeans and work boots. I could see Grady walking toward the man from the other direction. The guy didn't seem to notice. He was too busy looking at all the kids who were lining up for their buses, playing on the playground, or messing around as kids do. Finally, he looked up as I was closing in on him. Shock transformed his face.

He seemed to catch himself, smiling politely at me as he turned around to hurry across the street. It was too late. I grabbed his arm with my left hand and pulled my gun out with my right. Where are you going, Sam? I asked him, shoving the gun barrel into his ribs. Fear spread across his face like a fast-acting disease. Sorry, you have the wrong guy. My name is James, James Thomas.

He tried to pull away, but I held tight to his arm. Grady was standing directly in front of us now, blocking anyone ahead from seeing my gun. Let's take a little walk, I said. I want to have a chat with you. No, Darabon said, trying to pull away. Grady stepped up and got into the guy's face. He had to stoop to do it because he was so much taller than Darabond. Listen to me, you little sicko.

You're going to take a walk with us. Or my friend here is going to shoot you and plant a gun on your corpse. No one will think twice of it, given your history. Or you can get on one of these buses with us and have a nice little chat. Darabon didn't reply, but he let us walk him onto the bus, which was empty, including the driver's seat. We went to the very back and sat down with Sam against the window and me in the aisle seat. Grady took up the seat across the aisle from us.

Out the window, I could see Principal Torres and Gerard talking to the kids that normally rode this bus home, keeping them from getting on. At exactly 327, the bus horn started honking, although there was still no one in the driver's seat. Torres and Gerard stepped aside and watched as all the kids, in the area had blank looks on their faces as they started walking toward the bus like zombies. A few minutes later, the bus was full, and we started off. What the hell is going on?

Darabond asked. Where are we going? I turned in, smiled at him. We're going home, I said. You're going to hell. Blood drained out of his face, and he squirmed. But I prodded him with a gun until he cried out in pain and then stopped moving. The kids on the bus were silent, facing forward, swaying gently as the bus moved.

The vehicle turned out of the school lot and onto the residential road. One moment, the surroundings looked like an average middle-class neighborhood in Oklahoma. The next, things looked very different. Sam sucked in a breath as he looked outside and saw the sky dark with a plume of volcanic ash and smoke. Several of the next houses we passed were on fire. and we could hear screaming from inside the burning buildings. The streets, sidewalks, and yards were littered with garbage, debris, and occasional body parts. Those homes and businesses that weren't on fire were in a state of disrepair containing broken windows, smashed, doors, and bullet holes.

The sounds of gunshots was nearly constant, although we hadn't yet seen any of the shooters. If I had thought Deribond looked scared before, he now looked absolutely terrifying. His face turned red, and his veins bulged as he held his breath. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. The bus pulled over at a house and opened the door. As soon as the bus door opened, the anomalous dimension disappeared, and we were back in the normal world. A kid got off the bus and walked to his house,

seemingly unaware of the strange trip it took to get there. I had learned that as long as kids got off the bus at the appropriate, spot, there was nothing to worry about. In fact, the bus had the lowest incidence of fights, injuries, mishaps, and accidents. None of the kids who rode this bus regularly had ever been hurt or even inconvenienced during their ride home, because they all got off at the appropriate stop. The bus pulled away and turned a corner. We passed a grocery store on the right. There were about a dozen soldiers lined up in the mostly empty parking lot. Six civilians were on their knees facing the soldiers. Their hands bound behind their backs.

The soldiers aimed their weapons and fired, executing all six of the civilians. What the fuck is this place? Sam cried. I already told you, I said. It's hell. In the darkening sky, lightning flickered constantly. Sometimes striking building, buildings around us. The bus dropped another two kids off before we came to a long stretch of road where I knew no kids lived. Let's do this, Grady said. I nodded at him. He stood up and pulled on the back door's emergency handle, lifting it up. An alarm sounded as the bus came to an abrupt stop. Grady shoved the door open and sat back in his seat, making room for me in the aisle. I pulled Deriband from the seat and shoved him out the door. He hit him.

the cracked asphalt with a crunching thud, his ankle twisting. He screamed out and gripped the damaged joint. Then he scrambled up and tried to climb back into the bus through the back door. But Grady and I both kicked him down. I'm sorry. He cried. I'm sorry. I won't do it again, okay?

I promise. I won't touch a child ever again. I looked beyond him as he pleaded. There were several rotting corpses coming out from the wrecked houses, limping along towards the... the fresh meat. Deribond followed my gaze and looked over his shoulder. I used the opportunity to shut the door. Once it was closed, the alarm stopped, and the bus continued on its way. Grady and I watched out the back window as the corpses descended on a screaming Darabond,

tearing into the soft flesh of his stomach. A couple of giant black wolves appeared out of nowhere, running full tilt at the man. One of them lunged and sunk its teeth into Darabon's neck, cutting off his tortured screams. I faced forward again and sat patiently, watching as the kids got off the bus at their houses. Grady and I didn't say a word for the rest of that trip. After all the kids were home,

the bus dropped Grady off before dropping me off last. My son had been picked up by my wife and was already home. He greeted me as I came through the door. When I went to work the next day, there was no mention of what we'd done. Neither Principal Torres nor Gerard would look me in the eye. It was a small price to pay. But that afternoon, as Grady, Gerard, and I rode the Hell Bus, we saw Sam Darabond.

He'd been nailed to the roof of a house. None of his injuries from yesterday were apparent. The cycle had started over. As the bus passed, lightning shot down from the sky and struck Darabond. We heard his screams for three full blocks as we rode through hell to ensure the kids got home safely. SCP 3583 is an autonomous school bus that displays multiple anomalous properties and is operated by an unknown force. Close inspection reveals that it is composed of a wide variety of mismatched school bus parts. The bus associates itself with a public school in a

small town in Oklahoma. At 3.20 p.m. each school day, it manifests in a random location in the bus zone outside the school, opens its door, and waits for seven minutes. During this interval, a maximum of 56 children may embark of their own volition, and a maximum of eight adults will also be able to embark. If, after seven minutes, SCP 3583 does not contain its desired number of passengers, it honks its horn. This produces a cognito-hazardous effect whereby all children within hearing range will enter a fugue state, abandon their other activities, and embark on SCP 3583. If there are insufficient children within hearing range, the horn will become progressively louder. Once SCP 3583 contains its desired number of passengers, it will de-manifest

and enter an anomalous region of space. This region, known as SCP-3583-A, is recognizably based on the same Oklahoma town, but with multiple divergences, including but not limited to violent civil unrest, seismic and volcanic activity, frequent high-voltage electrical discharges, inconsistent gravity,

structure fires, predatory megafauna, open military conflict, with public mass executions, and animate cadavers in varying degrees of decomposition and mutilation. SCP 3583 will drive through SCP 3583-A until it reaches the counterpart of an individual child's residence. There, it will return to normal space and allow the child to disembark. It will then return to SCP 3583-A, proceed to the counterpart of another child's child's residents and continue in this fashion until all the children have disembarked afterward it will

deliver any adults to their individual residences in the same fashion once the last adult has disembarked SCP 3583 will de-manifest