The SCP Experience - The Coffee Machine | SCP-294

Episode Date: November 29, 2023

Want to listen ad-free? Try it FREE for 7 days here: patreon.com/TheSCPExperience SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-294: The Coffee Machine  This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-294 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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Looking around like a newborn baby, and just as scared, I try to pull myself together. I try to will my sluggish synapses into firing at their regular speed as screams come from the hallway. Containment breach, I whispered to myself, still unable to believe it. Reaching up and wiping a paperclip off my saliva-soaked cheek, I say it again. Containment breach? My synapses are getting into a rhythm now, the sleep falling away with increasing speed. I shoot up from my desk and shout, containment breach! As I run out my door, yanking it open and stepping into the smoke-shrouted hallway.

There's a prehistoric roar from down the hall. hall, and the floor shakes as if from an explosion. A man comes running from the direction of the roar, half hidden by smoke. I crouch down, trying not to breathe the smoke in as the man approaches, coughing. Then I recognize him. Lester, I shout. Thank God you're okay. Containment breach! He screams. I nod, grabbing his arm and dragging him with me down the hall. We duck into the nearest stairwell and move up toward the floor above, since it's an underground facility and we need to go up to go out. Thankfully, it's not so smoky in the stairwell. What happened? I asked. Lester shakes his head, his face somehow pale despite his dark skin.

It was horrible. It broke out of its cell and then it started breaking the other SCPs out of their cells. It's chaos, pure chaos at death. Which one's escaped? I asked, as we come to the door to sub-level three. We're starting up to sub-level two when Lest's Esther opens his mouth to answer. But before he can tell me which SCPs have escaped, there's an ear-piercing shriek from upstairs, followed by the clicking patter of sharp little feet, rushing down the concrete steps toward us.

Without thinking twice about it, we duck through the door to sub-level three, freezing momentarily when we see the mess in the hallway. Pulsating plant-like pods, the size of bowling balls, litter the floor, walls, and ceiling of the hall. But we know what's coming behind us is worse, So we head into the hall, moving as carefully as jugglers walking across a minefield. Don't touch that.

Lester says, whispering as if they have ears. Not unless you want your insides turned into your outsides, and your outsides transported to another dimension. He doesn't have to tell me. I know, but I still not. Tiptoeing past the plant-like pods. This containment breach is much, much worse than I thought. Just as we're coming to the sub-level three break room,

I see two men in tactical gear appear far down at the other end of the hallway. Over here! I shout, waving to what I think are members of a mobile task force. The men look down at us and raised their weapons. No! I shout. Where? They fire.

Lester yanks me through the door to the break room as bullets sliced through the air where I was just standing. We fall to the floor, seeing two other people in the room with us, hiding under tables and looking as scared as I feel. One of them is a woman whose name I think is Lana or Linda or something. The other is an older man who looks like Bruce Dern. His name is Barry or Terry or something. Why did they shoot at us? I ask.

What the hell is going on here? They're infected. Barry or Terry or something says. Something got loose on sub-level two and infected a mobile task force team. I can hear footsteps from the hall. They're coming. Lester kicks the door shut. And I get up off the floor and look.

around for some way to barricade the door. The tables and chairs are all pretty flimsy, but I grab some anyway and pile them up next to the door. Lester helps. Then I glance at the coffee machine. Wait, is that? I ask, looking at Lanna or Linda or something while I point to the machine. Her eyes go wide with realization. Oh my god, I didn't even think of that. I run over to the machine, thinking furiously, and punch in my request. It's no time for a coffee. Lester yells at me as thuds, come from the other side of the door. I half turned toward him and gesture at the machine. It's SCP-294! A cup drops out of the machine on the little metal tray. The machine starts humming.

What? He says. Seriously? Yes. Lana or Linda says, standing up from where she was just cowering. They moved it up here just a couple of days ago to save money. Ha ha! Lester says. Beautiful cheap bastards! Orange, sludgy liquid pours into the cup, steaming and smoking, but not melting through the cup. When it's done, I grab the cup of molten lava from the dispenser and run over toward the door, which Lester is trying to hold shut by leaning against the tables and chairs we piled there. When I'm still a couple of steps away, one of the

infected task force members fires through the door. Lester screams and falls to the floor, gripping his lower left side. He's been shot. You bastards! I shout as the door is kicked partially open to reveal both MTF agents there. Before they can get their weapons trained on me, I throw the cup of lava at them through the partially open door. As the molten liquid splatters them, they scream and turn away, running down the hall. But in the process, they both bump into a pulsating orb in the hallway. I slammed the door shut before I can see the horrific things that are about to happen to them. Then I turned and run to Lester, who's squirming on the floor.

They got me, buddy, he says. I'm fucking shot. I'll fix you up, I say. gently pulling his shirt out of his waistband to get a good look at the bullet hole. I reach under and feel his back, but there's no exit wound. Shit, I say. Bullets still inside you. I don't feel good, he says.

It hurts. Hey, Linda. I call. It's Lana. She says. Can you come over here and put pressure on his wound? That's what you're supposed to do, right? She shrugs.

I guess. That's what they do in the movies. She comes over. and puts pressure on him while I run back over to the coffee machine. I punch in my request, watching impatiently as a cup blops down, and then the machine starts humming. There's something else here now. Something new. From, exclusively on Paramount Plus, it's the series Stephen King calls Scary as Hell. Everything here is impossible, but it's also real.

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And I don't see anything or anyone coming yet. Good. I say, turning back as the machine finishes filling the paper cup. with the turquoise liquid. I grab the cup and chug the liquid down. It tastes like antiseptic in medicine and, somehow, empathy. I toss the cup aside and turn around as medical knowledge floods my brain. I suddenly know how best to treat Lester's wound so he hopefully won't die. There's no telling when we'll be able to get him to a hospital, so it's imperative that I get the bullet out as soon as possible. Thankfully, there's surely a first aid kit somewhere in this room. as is standard in any foundation room.

I find it under the sink and run back over to Lester, opening the kit and looking for what I need. As I start to work, I ask Lanna to get a cup of liquid painkillers from the coffee machine. She runs over and punches the request in. Hang in there, buddy, I say, pulling on latex gloves. Lester is breathing heavily, his forehead, beaded with sweat. Lana arrives with a cup of liquid painkillers and crouches next to Lester's head. Drink up, she says, tilting the cub toward his mouth.

Don't give him all of it. Try half first. We don't want him to overdose, I say. Lana nods and pours half of the liquid into Lester's mouth. I prepare the medical items I'll need, gauze, bandages, foreseps, and wait while the painkillers kick in, feeling the pulse in his wrist. It's fast, too fast for my liking. Uh, we got a problem, Barry says from the door. What is it? Lana asks. We got some of those weird little bastards coming down the hall.

The ones that look like half crabs, half scorpions, and half lizards. About a hundred of them. Oh, shit, I say. Are the orbs slowing them down? I ask. They're eating the orbs, Barry says. Wow, that's new. I say, oddly calm, even though we're surely about to be overrun with the nasty little creatures.

They're pretty good at ripping skin off and gouging eyeballs. Can you keep them out? I can try, Barry says. But there's a lot of them. Do what you can, I say. Lanna, do you know anything about them? Anything you can think of that we can ask the machine for to help us stop them. Lana shakes her head.

I'm just a research assistant. And I don't know anything about those creepy little things, other than that they're vicious as hell. Shit, I say. How about you, Lester? Lester looks up at me, eyes hazy. He smiles faintly. What?

He's high as a kite, Lana says. Yeah, I say. Good. Lanna, see if you can help Barry keep those things out until I'm done with Lester. Lanna nods and jumps up to help Barry at the door. I turn my attention to getting the bullet out of Lester, but I've barely started when Barry and Lanna start yelling.

I look over and see that the creatures, about the size of kittens, but certainly nowhere close to cute, are using their triple-pronged tails to widen the bullet holes in the wooden door. Lana has a fire extinguisher, and she smacks it into each creature that pokes through one of the widening holes. But it's like playing whack-a-mole. Meanwhile, Barry is pressing his shoulder against the door, trying to keep it closed because, apparently, these things know how to operate doorknobs. Lester reaches a hand up and grabs my shoulder.

I remove the forceps from his wound and bend down, knowing he wants to tell me something. He whispers a single word in my ear, and I smile. You're a genius. I get up, foreseps still in one hand, and rush over to the coffee machine. I punch in my request for three drops of thioacetone, just as the door to the break room bursts open, and a wave of the nasty little creature skidder into the room

on their crab-like legs. Barry and Lanner run away, buying themselves seconds. Meanwhile, I rush back over to Lester and throw myself across him, shielding him from the coming onslaught. I hear the coffee machine whirring to life, but it seems so slow. The creatures bound on top of us, attacking, ripping at our clothes, and gouging our skin. I lay an arm over Lester's eyes and press my other forearm over my own eyes,

and there's nothing I can do but wait, and hope Lester's idea works. Thioacetone is commonly known as the worst smelling compound known to man. Although I've never smelled it myself, I've read stories about it. Back in 1889, two German scientists who first discovered the stuff apparently had an accident with the stuff, and it somehow got loose in their lab. It smelled so bad, it led to a panicked evacuation of the city. I flinch and cry out as the creatures attack me. They crawl on my back, the needle-like tips of their legs stabbing into my skin,

their tails like claws, ripping and prodding and searching for weak spots. Barry and Lana scream in pain. Then the smell hits me. It's like the same. smell of a fridge full of rotten meat in a house that's been without power for an entire summer, mixed with the worst flatulence you've ever smelled, mixed with trash juice, times a million. It's so completely and viscerally disgusting that I vomit before I even realize I'm doing so. I feel the creatures skitter off my back, running out of the room, trying to get away from

this smell. Soon, the only sound in the room is that of Lana and Barry vomiting. pulling myself into a sitting position, I see that Lester has passed out. All the better, because my vomit is soaking into his clothes. I resume my work, using the forcips to get the bullet out, stopping to vomit every ten seconds or so, until I have nothing left to puke up, at which point I simply gag every ten seconds. Barry and Lanna are still vomiting and gagging at the side of the room. But at least they're alive.

At least we're all alive. By the time I fish the bullet out and get Lester patched up as best I can, there has been some semblance of order restored to the compound. Task Force members show up in gas masks, but even then, they can hardly stand the smell. A couple of them rip off their masks and vomit as they enter the break room. We move out in a hurry, carrying Lester on a stretcher the task force guys brought with them. As we finally get outside, I take a deep breath of fresh air. It's the best thing I've ever smelled.

I walk over to an ambulance with Lester, asking the paramedics what they think his chances are. You'll be okay, I think. One of them says. Lester lifts his head and looks at me. It worked? He asks. It worked. I say.

You saved our asses, man. Looks like you saved mine, too. He says. The paramedics shut the doors and drive off. I watch them go. Then I lift my shirt and give it a whiff, gagging as I smell the stench that's been embedded in the cloth. I know I'm going to have to spend an hour in the shower with a pumice stone. Even then, I probably won't be able to get rid of that smell for a long time.

But hell, it's better than being dead. Item SCP-294 appears to be a standard coffee vending machine. The only noticeable difference being an entry touchpad with buttons corresponding to an English QWERTY keyboard. Once a request is made, a standard 12-ounce paper drinking cup is placed, and the liquid indicated is poured. 97 initial test runs were performed, including requests for water, coffee, beer, and soda. Non-consumable liquids such as sulfuric acid, wiper fluid, and motor oil, as well as substances that do not usually exist in a liquid state, such as nitrogen, iron, and glass. Each one returned a success.

Test runs with solid materials such as Diamond have failed, however, as it appears that SCP-294 can only deliver substances that can exist in a liquid state. in a liquid state. It is interesting to note that many caustic liquids that would have eaten through a normal paper cup seemed to have no effect on the cups dispensed by the machine. As suggested, SCP 294 was moved to the sub-level 3 personnel break room as a money-saving venture.