The SCP Experience - The Caustic Killer | SCP-106

Episode Date: August 10, 2022

SCP Foundation KETER class object, SCP-106: Anomalous Apocalypse This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-106, 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

Welcome to board of Viarai. Embarked and profite. Embarked and relaxes. Cirotay. Bookiné. Oh, that also. And profite. Villaray, the voice that we love that we love.

The basement lab always feels pretty creepy after dark. And tonight's, no exception. There are stories about the basement of the old university building being haunted. But as a student of science, I don't believe in such nonsense. But that doesn't mean my fellow students share my lack of belief. Based on our grades, myself, Fidel Rojas, and Michelle Daniels have been selected for a special research program that pretty much guarantees us jobs when we graduate, provided we don't mess up. I'd never heard of the SCP Foundation before my chemistry professor called me into her office

and offered me a spot on the research project. And even after that, I couldn't find much about the foundation online. When I asked my professor about it, she said they did a lot of highly classified government work. That just made me even more intrigued. I reasoned that they're probably on the cutting edge of science, which is exactly where I want to be. But who says I can't have a little fun on the way? We haven't really been doing any interesting work so far. I think the stuff we're working on is a test of sorts.

They want to make sure we're actually as good as our grades say we are. I doubt we'll get into anything really good until we graduate, which is fine with me. It allows me to breeze through the projects and think of ways to scare Fidel and Michelle. I look over my shoulder at Fidel, who's bent over a notebook at a table, is back to me. Michelle is working to my left, and I glance at her. She notices, looking up at me. I smile at her, and she smiles back. I feel a pleasant nod of anticipation in my stomach.

We've got a date tonight, a second date. The first one ended with a kiss. I can only wonder what this one will end with. It's chilly down here, so we're all wearing warm clothes. Michelle's wearing a fashionable black wool jacket, and Fidel is wearing a dark green hooded sweatshirt with a band name on the front. I have a blue wool cardigan on that makes me look more like a professor than any of the professors at this university.

Of course, my beard completes the ensemble. Glancing up at the clock, I see we still have an hour left. Really, we can leave whenever we're done. But Fidel always insists on working until the appointed time. He says it will look better for us if we do. I can see his point. And I don't want to leave any of my team members behind. That definitely wouldn't look good.

So I stick around even though I'm done. Oh my God, I blurt. Did you hear that? What? Fidel says, spinning around on his stool, his eyes wide. Michelle says nothing. She just looks at me with a small smile on her face. She's on to me.

I heard something in the hall, I say, putting all my attention on Fidel. The first time I did this, I actually had a friend come down into the basement to make creepy noises. But they never saw my friend. and I never let on that it was a prank. What can I say? I'm in it for the long haul. I did that so I could now do this. I didn't hear anything, Fidel says, weekly.

It was like a dragging, scratching kind of sound. Like last time? Fidel says. Oh, yeah. I say, as if just remembering. Yeah, kind of like last time. I stand with my head tilted, listening. I'm going to go investigate.

Fidel, why don't you come with me? I didn't think it was possible, but Fidel's eyes got even wider. No, no, he says. I need to finish up my work. Suit yourself, I'll go it alone. As I turn around, I wink at Michelle. She rolls her eyes, but she's hiding a smile. I make a big deal of opening the lab room door and stepping cautiously out into the hall.

I plan on being utterly silent for long enough that Adele starts to wonder what happened. Hopefully, he'll come out to check on me and I'll scare the bejesus out of him. If not, I'll scream bloody murder, then he'll come running. I close the door behind me and step into the middle of the hall. The cramped hallway is a testament to a bygone era, one in which people were much shorter and a college degree guaranteed you a good job. The cinder block walls lining the hallway were once white, but the paint is now discolored and chipping. Rust spots from ancient, disused pipes color the walls here and there. The fluorescent tube lights affixed to the dark ceiling are constantly flickering, which only adds

to the creepy ambiance. Dark and windowless wooden doors stand snugly in their frames. I've looked into a couple of the rooms previously, seeing dusty file cabinets and old desks that haven't been used in decades. Now, I stand silently in the middle of the hall. Listening hard to see if Fidel says anything to Michelle. I don't hear him talk, but I do hear something from down the hall. It's a wet sound, a dripping sound. But there's something else. Like the sucking noise a boot makes as you pull it out of six inches of mud.

I move down the hall toward the sound. I stop at a door and press my ear against it. The sucking noise has stopped. stopped, but I can hear the occasional drip. It doesn't sound like water, though. It sounds like sludge. It's a thick, plopping sound. I try the door, finding that it's unlocked. Pushing it open, I reach my right hand in, swiping along the textured cinder block wall for a light switch. A frantic fear leaps into my head as my imagination breaks its leash. I can see in my mind's eye the razor-sharp claws reaching toward my hand in the dark.

Just as the fear is about to crescendo, I find the switch. Light floods the room, and I push the door open all the way, breathing easier because there's no beast lurking there. Of course there's not. The room is stacked high with lab tables and chairs, blocking my view of the back wall. I paused to listen for a moment before hearing another plop. It's louder here.

I'm in the right room. I move to my left, skirting the tower of chairs and tables, moving toward the sound. As I round the back corner of the piled furniture, I stop, I whispered to myself, looking at the back wall. There's a large oval of black and gray goop on the wall.

It seemed to flex inward when I first laid eyes on it. Now it's perfectly still. It's maybe three feet across at the widest, and about five feet tall. I look at the tile floor and see more of the goop smeared here and there. Thinking one of the old pipes has burst, I look at the ceiling. But there's no pipe there. There's no stain on the ceiling.

No source for the goop. I move forward, careful not to step in any of it. It emits a pungent, acidic smell that reminds me of fresh tar. I reach a hand out toward it, wondering if I should touch it. A piercing scream comes from down the hall. Michelle! I move quickly, running out of the room and back to the lab. I wrenched the door open and step inside,

nearly running into a backpedaling Michelle. Pure fear rips through me as I see the rotting figure lunge for Fidel and grab him by the wrists. It looks like a man, but it's hard to tell for sure. It has no hair, just a bald paint touched with gray-black goop and rotting skin. Its lips are nearly gone, Decomposed to where black teeth and diseased gums are the only things there. Its nose is two simple slits with raw cartilage poking out.

Where its body isn't covered with the goop, I can see tendons and muscles showing through. Behind the creature, there's an oval on the wall, just like the one I saw in the other room. And there are streaks on the floor. Footprints, I realized. Fidel screams as the creature grasps his wrists. I gap as the sleeves of Fidel's dark green hoodie melt away under the creature's hands. the creature's hands. But it's not just the material that melts. Fidel's skin also begins bubbling and sizzling. His screams grow louder and more frantic as the thing drags him back toward the oval and the wall. I move around Michelle and grab Fidel by the shoulders, trying to yank him away from

the thing. My stomach roils as I smell his flesh melting. I'm tall enough to look over Fidel's shoulder. The creature's slight gray eyes stare up at me. It's lipless mouth, a permanent and sneer. It yanks hard on Fidel's wrists. I lose my footing, stumbling forward, still hanging onto Fidel's shoulders. The oval on the wall opens for the creature, who keeps yanking as it moves backward. Refusing to let go, I go through the oval before losing my grip and tripping to the ground. An immense pain erupts in my head, and I feel like a thousand fire ants are all biting the same one-inch spot on my scalp. I shout, using the sleeve of my cardigan to swipe at my hair. pain lessons as I bring my arm down and look at the black coop stuck to my sleeve.

It's melting through the material. I scramble, pulling the cardigan off before the stuff can reach my skin. I sit on my knees, breathing hard, and looking down on my bald-up cardigan on the floor as the stuff melts through. My head still hurts, like a third-degree burn, but I can tell it's not melting through my skull. I'm lucky I have a thick head of hair. Looking around, I find that I'm alone in a hallway. Fidel and the creature are gone, but there are smeared footprints leading down the long hallway. It's certainly not a hallway in the school basement.

There are small tiles lining the walls, like you'd see in an old insane asylum. The walls are stained with dark shades of red, brown, black, and gray. The concrete floor is dirty with dust, sludge, and bits of broken tile. I look behind me and see the oval is closing up. shrinking even as I watch, leaving behind only a tile wall. There are little recesses in the ceiling that emit weak white light, allowing me to see in the dim hall.

I stand up, leaving my cardigan on the floor. Now I only have my blue t-shirt and jeans on, but it's warm here, much warmer than the university basement. Resisting the urge to curl up into a ball and reject whatever the hell is happening, I move down the hallway. following the smeared footprints. I feel sick to my stomach, and my whole body seems to shake,

but I can't just sit around and do nothing. The footprints lead me to a closed door. There's no window in the rusting metal door, so I can't see inside. I swallow hard, put my hand on the rusty knob, and open the door. Fidel is lying on the floor in the corner of the small, dimly lit room. I rush forward, but stop, as I get a better look at him. My stomach spasms, and I feel the blood drain from my face. I can see the bones in his arms just above his wrists.

The skin, muscles, and tendons have been eaten away. But that isn't the worst part. His face looks as if all the moisture has been pulled out of it. His previously brown skin is now sickly gray. His eyes have shriveled like grapes left in the sun. His mouth is stuck wide in a silent scream. I back away. shaking my head, unable to believe what I'm seeing.

No, no, no, no. I say, as I spin around to run, I come face to face with the creature. It's hanging upside down from the ceiling, staring at me with its lifeless gray eyes. It reaches two rotting hands out for me, releasing a low growl. I duck, feeling its hands, stir the air where my face just was. I run out of the room, back toward the wall where I came in. But it's just a wall. There's no way out.

I stop over my cardigan, noticing that the little bit of goo has melted all the way through it. But there's still plenty of cloth left. Behind me, the creature walks out of the room, no longer hanging from the ceiling, but walking on the floor. I pick up my cardigan, sticking my arms partially through the sleeves so I can use them as gloves. I don't put it over my head. Instead, I keep the rest of it bunched up at my elbows. The creature walks slowly toward me. It's not particularly fast, and the only reason it managed to pull me through the oval in the first place is because I lost my footing.

So it's not particularly strong either. Can I fight it? Can I kill it? If I do, how will I get out of this place? Something tells me it won't be easy as walking out a door. I have no answers to these questions, but I don't really have much of a choice. This is its world that much I can tell. So I need to stand and fight. Come on, you nasty old fucker!

I shouted. I let it get close to me, leaving only a few feet of space between my back and the wall. I crouch down as it gets within reach. It lunges, trying to grab me. I duck away and roll on the ground past it. I'm on my feet again as the thing turns around.

We've switched positions now, which is just what I wanted. It grabs at me again, and I duck. Then lunge up and forward, leading with my cardigan covered hands. I grab its upper arms and shove the thing back into the wall, the same wall we came in through. I keep pushing even as the cardigan starts to melt. The thing reaches up and grabs my forearms, but there's bunched-up cardigan protecting my skin.

For now, an oval starts to form on the wall as I keep pressing the creature to it. It expands slowly. My hands and forearms are starting to hurt as the caustic goop melts through the cardigan. Come on! I shout, giving the thing one more. could shove. We tumble through the 40. I land on top of the creature but quickly scramble off, tearing at my clothes as the goop melts through to burn my skin. I notice in my panic that I'm back in the basement lab, but something has changed. I can't quite place what? No time for that now.

I run out the door, stripping down to my boxers as I reached the stairwell up to the first floor. I check myself over, making sure I got all the goo off with my clothes. Looking back down the hallway, I see the creature isn't following. At least not for now. Running up the stairs, I give little thought to the fact that I'm in my underwear. I don't care. I just want to get away from the thing downstairs. As I come onto the first floor, the hallway is bright with sunlight. And there are a few students in the hallway. They all stop and look at me where I stand at the top of the stairs, just behind a chain with a sign on it. A couple of the students run off, no doubt, to alert campus police. I step over the chain blocking the stairwell and read the sign. Off limits to students do not enter. It was nighttime when our lab started. Now it's daytime. There wasn't any such sign since I've been going to classes in this building.

Now there is. Something is seriously wrong. Two campus police officers show up promptly, and I comply with all their demands. They whisked me away to the campus police office. They let me borrow a sweatsuit and put me in a lock, room. They don't believe that I am who I say I am. They say I disappeared six months ago. They say I was declared dead. But I'm not dead. I'm here. Alive. After a couple of hours alone in the room,

a man in a suit comes in. He looks at me, his broad face wide with unabashed curiosity. Holy shit, he says. It's true. You really made it out. No one's ever made. made it out alive. What the hell is this? I ask. Who are you? He sits down at the table across from me and takes a moment, still looking me over with his dark blue eyes. I'm going to take you to a secure location and we'll debrief you.

Then we'll give you your life back. It'll be like you never disappeared. I just need to know. Did you see anyone else alive in there? Any other humans? I shake my head. No, I only saw Fidel Rojas, and he was dead. I was afraid of that, he says.

The thing is, SCP 106 has been hunting foundation personnel for years, and he likes them young, under 25. But I figured if you got out, maybe we could get some others out too. Like the other student he took the night you disappeared. No, I told you Rojas is dead. The man looks at me with pity. I don't mean Rojas. I mean the girl.

Michelle Daniels. What? I say. No, it's not possible. Michelle was safe when Fidel and I went in. She was safe. The man shakes his head. Time doesn't work in there like it does here.

He says, if you were away from him from what you perceived as seconds, he could have had plenty of time to come back and get her. He often takes multiple victims. at one time. I clenched my fists on the table, staring at the man sitting across from me. Long moments pass as I process the information I've just heard. Where do I sign up? I finally say. What? The man asks, genuinely confused.

Where do I sign up? I want to go back in. I want to get this son of a bitch. So show me where to sign the goddamn papers. I'll stay dead. I don't care. He took my friends and he doesn't get to do that. He's as good as dead. SCP-106 appears to be an elderly humanoid with a general appearance of advanced decomposition. This appearance may vary, but the rotting quality is observed in all forms.

SCP-106 is not exceptionally agile and will remain motionless for days at a time, waiting for prey. It is also capable of scaling any vertical surface and can remain suspended upside down indefinitely. When attacking, SCP 106 will attempt to incapacitate prey by damaging major organs, muscle groups, or tendons, then pull disabled prey into its pocket dimension. It prefers human prey in the 10 to 25 years of age bracket. SCP 1060 causes corrosion in all solid matter it touches,

enabling a physical breakdown in materials several seconds after contact. This is observed as rusting, rotting, and cracking of materials, and the creation of a black mucus-like substance similar to the material-coating SCP-106. This effect is particularly detrimental to living tissues, and is assumed to be a pre-digestion action. SCP-106 is capable of passing through solid matter, leaving behind a large patch of its corrosive mucus. It is also able to vanish inside solid matter, entering what is assumed to be a form of

pocket dimension. SCP 106 is then able to exit this dimension from any point connected to the initial entry point. Examples include entering the inner wall of a room and exiting the outer wall. Entering a wall and exiting from the ceiling. Lazzang sur-gillet, Puitance-molyne, Possible! We're like it's their dojo!

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