The SCP Experience - The Covenant | SCP-106

Episode Date: September 12, 2025

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/⁠⁠ * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 17. Listener discretion is advised.  #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Ophelia's dirty blonde curls bounced on and off her shoulders as she turned the wheel, unsuccessfully attempting to maneuver the old pickup truck around a pothole. Nice one, I said, crawling my eyes. She turned to me, bawling her fist close to her chest, before reaching over to punch my arm. Shut up, dipshit. He don't even know how to drive. Whatever, I hoved, turning my body towards the passenger window. She was only a year and a half older than me, but my sister never made. missed an opportunity to remind me of it.

I read the billboard for what was probably the hundredth time as it faded out of view. Have you seen this girl? I turned away from the window and looked at Ophelia. What do you think she went? Ophelia glanced at me before returning her eyes to the road. That girl from school? She shrugged her shoulders. Who knows?

I tapped my index finger on the door. Don't you think it's weird they never found a body? The light grew dim as she pulled the truck onto our ground. gravel road, which was nestled under the shadows of ancient trees. Sure, I guess it's kind of strange. You want to solve the crime, Detective Dipshit? She wound up to hit me again, but I leaned forward this time, feeling the whoosh of her fist as it passed behind my back.

I turned and caught her forearm before she could pull it away. Stop calling me that! I yelled, clenching her arm and twisting it. Let go! She cried as I laugh and twisted even harder. The truck jolted. swaying both of us to the side, then back to center. I released her hand, and we came to a stop a few hundred yards from the house.

We looked at each other in silence for a moment. Ophelia pulled the door's handle toward her and used her body weight against the exposed metal on the door to pry it open. Shit, I mumbled. I followed suit. I walked around the front of the hood to the driver-side tire, where Ophelia stood. Following her gaze, I looked down to find a pool of black beneath the wheel. The tar-like substance seemed to suck what little evening light was still glowing from between the tires. I tried to see the bottom of the pool, but it seemed to go on forever. I reached forward with my index finger.

Don't, Ophelia said, pulling my hand away from the substance. I put my hand back into my pocket. Smells like roadkill, I said, looking around the side of the truck for any evidence of Ophelia's victim. I don't see anything. She twisted a piece of her. her hair between her fingers. Must have just been a pothole. I glanced at the gravel behind,

looking for a stray tree branch or pothole, but saw nothing. Ophelia shrugged and walked back to the driver's seat. Whatever it was, it's gone now. Let's get going. Pause going to be pissed if the grocery spoil. The brown paper bag crinkled in my hands as I made my way up the rickety stairs.

I turned, anticipating Ophelia's help with the door, only to see her standing on the grass. smearing her lips with gloss as she stared into a handheld mirror. You think I could get some help over here? I asked. I'm going to go for a walk. Tell Pa I'll be home before dinner, she said, ignoring my question. She ran off down the road. I rolled my eyes, balancing the bag on my forearm while I pried the screen door open. The house was already dark, save for the small glow of the lamp in the corner of the living room. I almost didn't notice Paa in his chair.

He sat so still. His Bible rested in his lap, while his hand hung off the chair's armrest and swirled a glass of whiskey. Samson, uh-you, he asked without turning his head. Yep, got the groceries, I said, pausing behind his chair. Me-ma's in the kitchen. She already started dinner, he said, raising a glass to his lips and finishing off the drink. I nodded, even though he was still turned away from me and made my way through the dining room. and into the kitchen. Me-Ma was standing in front of the stove,

stirring a massive pot as she wiped her other hand on her apron. She turned to face me before I could say hello. Hi, sugar. Did they have radishes? She asked, taking the bag out of my hands and peering inside. I nodded. Smells good already. She looked behind me. Where's your sister?

She went for a walk. I made my way over to the sink, letting the cool water from the tap run over my palms. Meemaw shook her head. I told her not to go wandering at dusk. The swaps no place for kids at night. That girl don't listen one bit. We're not really kids anymore, Meemaw.

Now, now, you know I don't mean it like that, she said, patting my shoulder with her weathered hand. It's just that the two of you still have a lot to learn about this land. There are things you're not quite ready to understand. I forced to smile and nodded. Here she goes again, I thought. She'd always been superstitious, but ever since that girl went missing, she'd been even more concerned, especially about Ophelia. Can I help with anything?

She turned to walk back to the stove. Nope, dinner will be ready in half an hour. Go and get your sister, would you? I threw my head back, dropped my shoulders and sighed. But the look she gave me in response made me straighten up immediately. Yes, ma'am. She smiled and turned her attention back to the pot on the stove. Paa was asleep when I walked back past his chair on the way out.

I carefully removed the empty glass that hung delicately from his fingers and set it on the ground next to his chair. I grabbed the lantern from the side table and stared through the screen door at the dark purple glow that had settled in place of the sun. Hesitating for a moment, I opened the gun cabinet next to the door and slung the rifle over my shoulder. Better save them sorry, I thought.

I listened to the sound of the sound of the door. the frogs and crickets as I trudged up the dirt road. When I reached the break in the fence, I followed the beaten down path towards the swamp. There were a few places she could have gone, but the old clubhouse had been our first choice for a hangout spot since we were kids, and it was always the first place I would look. The night grew darker with every step as I made my way up to the old treehouse. A branch snapped behind me, and I turned my lantern, holding it up and scanning the trees on either side of the path.

I jumped as the light reflected off a pair of eyes above me and dropped the lantern back down to my side, turning back around. Damn raccoon, I scoffed. As I made my way further down the path and closer to the swamp, I could feel the air thickened. The outline of the treehouse entered my field of view, and I could see the dim glow of a candle as its light escaped through the small hut's only window.

Ophelia? I called out. Not waiting for a response, I rolled my eyes as I reached for the door handle, but heard movement in the trees behind me. I turned, dropping the lantern to my feet, pulling the rifle from my shoulder as I aimed it into the darkness. Hello? I asked into the night. Not wanting to let go of the gun, I used what little light was coming from the window to peer between the trees. I made out a tall, masculine figure as it sauntered towards me.

Hello? I called out again, gently resting my finger on the trigger. Whoa, is that a gun? Jesus, put that down, kid. An unfamiliar voice rang out into the night. Samson, what the hell? Ophelia moaned as she stepped out from behind the tall figure. Why do you have Paa's gun?

Who's that? I asked, taking my finger off the trigger and lowering the gun slowly. This is Freddy from school, she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. I looked him up and down and slung the gun back over my shoulder. Freddy stepped forward, extending his handout to meet mine. Nice to meet you. I nodded, keeping my hand to myself and eyeing Ophelia. Mey-ma's got dinner ready.

You shouldn't worry her like this, wandering around after dark. Oh, me-ma will be fine, Ophelia giggled, glancing back at Freddy. Our grandma's a bit superstitious. Freddy nodded, smiling at her flirtatiously. I rolled my eyes. Either way, we should get back. I gestured to the path behind me. Ophelia turned to Freddy, planting a kiss on his cheek.

See you back here tomorrow? Same time? I winced and turned my back, feeling my boots sink into the mud with each step. I heard Ophelia as she jogged towards me to catch up, then matched my pace. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. Hey, you think you could keep this between you and me? I don't want paw getting all worked up. And me, Ma's already unnervious. I don't care. I interrupted.

I've got better things to worry about than your dumb boyfriend. Thanks, she said. turning and looking over my shoulder. What's with the gun? I guess Mi-Ma got to me, I shrugged. I heard Bob before I saw him when we got back to the house. He was crouched down next to the truck and cursing up a storm. My eyes met Ophelia's for a moment as we made our way across the lawn.

Bob braced himself on his thighs to stand up straight. What the hell happened to the truck? Ophelia shook her head. Nothing, why? I saw it at the same time she did. The tire was melted down. to the rim, decomposing as if it were a dead animal. Ophelia widened her eyes at me, warning me to stay quiet. Well, something obviously happened. Ophelia, you were the one driving.

I'll give you one more chance to be honest with me. His stare bore down into Ophelia's baby blue eyes, but she didn't waver. I swear, I didn't do anything. She gestured to me. Tell him, Sam. You were with me the whole time. Before I could open my mouth to back her up, Pah raised his hand. Ophelia, I didn't raise no liar, and you know false testimony is a sin. I'm not enough! Paa's voice rang above the crickets in the yard. Go to your room and study your scripture. Don't come out until I say so.

I watched as she sulked up the porch stairs, dragging her hand on the railing. Pa looked at the gun on my shoulder and rubbed the ridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. Samson, bring up a spare tire from the barn and get cleaned up for dinner. Yes, sir. Lazang sur-gillet, Pucance-Moyerned 15 minutes. We'd say that's the

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18-8-0-1-1-1-2 10-4-4-2-B-Bas-Bon-A deposit-Begas-Bonanza, depop minimum of 10-0. Veigh and show to a responsible. The conditions apply. I made certain that Paa was asleep in his chair before I tiptoed up the stairs.

The spoon rattled in the bowl, and I steadied it with my thumb as my foot skipped the creakiest step. Raising my knuckles to the wood, I knocked softly. When she didn't answer, I brought my ear up to the door but heard nothing. I'll feel you, I whispered, turning my head to check for Paw at the bottom of the stairs. Look, I know you're pissed, but I brought you some dinner. I huffed as I reached for the doorknob, growing impatient with their silly little silent treatment. I swung the door open, sloshing the stew in the bowl as I barged into the darkness. A dull glow from her bedside lamp illuminated the piles of clothes scattered on the hardwood floor.

The small mass of her body rested under the fluffy blankets. I let out a sigh. I'll leave your food here, I said softly, sweeping her makeup aside to make room for the bowl on her vanity table. squinting once more at her bed through the dim light. I thought she looked a little too still. I hesitantly walked to her bedside and poked to the blankets, feeling nothing but the soft bounce of down-filling inside the fabric. The duvet flew through the air, landing on the floor as I flung the rest of the bedding to the side.

My stomach dropped as the smell of decay filled my nostrils. Ophelia wasn't there. Instead, there was a dark void. A black, tar-like substance stained the outline of the hole, and I could see the planks of the bed frame through the hollow point of the mattress. I yelled, tears welling in my eyes. Pah! Wake up! Ophelia's gone! Ma cursed to no one in particular as his muck boots sank into the mud.

He trudged in front of me. His gun rested along his back. I held the lantern, which hardly made up for the absence of light under the new moon. My other hand grasped the canvas bag Mima had given me on her way out the door. She hushed me when I asked what was inside, and whispered in my ear, You don't have much time. Run along and do what your paw tells you. Paul hadn't said much to me since we'd left the house,

but he didn't hesitate when he broke out in a quick pace in the direction of the swamp. It brought me some comfort that he seemed to have a plan. I thought of Ophelia and hoped she had snuck off with Freddy, but the memory of the rotting hole in her bed made the adrenaline surge in my gut again. Paul stopped in his tracks. Pivoting to the side, he crossed,

into the unbridled vegetation that lined the beaten-down path. Baugh, I whispered, what are you doing? I tracked him with the light as he knelt under the Spanish moss that was draped from the wiry arms of the magnolia trees. Come here and hold the light for me. He ushered me over without looking back. Holding the light above his shoulder, I watched in silence as he uncovered a small trap that held a little gray rabbit. Its free leg thumped violently against the moss-covered ground.

Paw picked it up by its ears, releasing its wounded leg from the trap. Without saying a word, he stood up and carefully made his way back to the path. I followed silently, wondering if Paa had finally gone mad. A glimmer of hope shot up my chest as we reached the old clubhouse. Ophelia! I called out into the night. She's not going to answer, Paa said in a matter-of-fact way that sent chills along the back of my neck. I followed him to the swamp's edge.

He handed the rifle to me and held out his hand for the bag. I watched the rabbit hang from Paw's grip, frozen in fear. Pa rested the bag on the ground and retrieved a jar of salt. He sprinkled the salt into the muck, making a circle around where we stood. I huffed out a sharp breath. Paa pulled his knife from his waistband and turned to face the swamp. I shuddered as he cried out words in a language I'd never heard before and slit the rabbit's throat.

Paw flung the rabbit through the air, its limp body sent ripples through the swamp, and I winced the sound of the splash. The forest grew silent, as if the cicadas and frogs could sense the same dread that consumed me. Paa reached for the bag again, grabbing a second jar that was filled with water. He rinsed the knife, allowing the stream to trickle down the blade on either side. Raising his palm to the sky, he drew a line down his hand with the blade, grunting in pain as he tossed the knife to the ground. He knelt at the water's edge and placed his palm flat against the surface. The ground rumbled, and waves danced towards where we stood on the shore. A figure emerged from the water's center.

Every muscle in my body told me to run, but my bones were rigid, and the muck beneath my boots might as well have been wet cement. The smell of decomposing flesh stung my nostrils as the figure approached us at the edge of the water. Its massive frame towered over paws' six-foot-three stature. I scanned the creature from where he was. its feet sank into the muck, all the way to its eyes, which glowed through the darkness and fixated on Paa. Its severely aged flesh was drenched in a thick substance that clung to its wiry frame. A set of sharp teeth peeked through its thin lips as it addressed Paul.

Percibel! What a pleasure to receive a visit from such an old friend! It croaked. I could have sworn. You've broken the covenant, Paa interrupted. I gave you what you wanted. Now tell me where my girl is. His fist clenched at his side. No, Percy. The creature spat. You broke the covenant.

You really thought you could fool me. I knew that girl was not yours. I've tasted the blood of every first-born border for dues injuries. The creature let out a wretched laugh. I took what was rightfully mine. Now peace can be enjoyed for another generation. It waved its hand as if trying to shoe us away. I held up the gun, fixing the sight on the center of the creature's brow as I placed my finger on the trigger.

Paa motioned for me to wait, maintaining his gaze on the creature. I'm going to ask you again, where is my daughter? The creature bent down, bringing its forehead inches away from Paa. The government has been upheld. It turned, focusing its gaze on me for the first time. And I'll see you in a decade or two, I suppose. It grinned, exposing its rotted teeth. I pulled the trigger.

The shot rang out through the Demsair. The creature's shoulder lurched back for a moment, glancing down at the hole I had left beneath its collarbone. Turning back to Paw, it grabbed him by the neck, screeching in his face. I watched as thick black sludge ran down Paw's flannel. The creature fixed its glowing eyes on me. You'll do well to abide by the government. Come your turn.

It hissed to me before backing further into the swamp and dragging Paw into the water. Paw struggled against its grasp. Samson, run. Don't look back. Just run! I turned, dropping the gun to the ground next to the lantern as I followed the path that I knew by heart through the darkness. My boot caught on the exposed route and I lurched into the ground. The underside of my fingernails filled with muck as I pressed myself back up onto my feet. I kept running, too afraid to look back. Through the tears of my eyes, I saw the soft glow of Mima's cigarette on the porch.

It only made me cry more. By the time I crawled up the porch steps and fell into Memoff's arms, I was sobbing like a baby. She looked behind me, seeing that paw was nowhere to be found. There, there, sugar, she whispered. Looks like you and I have got some things to talk about. SCP 106 is a decayed, elderly humanoid entity known for stalking prey with extreme patients before incapacitating victims, usually young humans, by damaging vital organs or tendons, then dragging them into a personal pocket dimension. It secretes a corrosive substance that causes rapid decay in both living

tissue and solid materials, a process that continues for hours after contact and is thought to serve as predigestion. SCP-106 can pass through solid matter, leaving behind corrosive residue and vanish into its pocket dimension, re-emerging from other surfaces at will. This dimension, glimpsed only briefly, appears to be a labyrinth of halls and rooms, where victims may be tortured for extended periods before either death, release, or recapture for further hunting.