The SCP Experience - The Cryptid's Call | SCP-939

Episode Date: August 1, 2025

When a boy vanishes near Shallows Reservoir, a weary sheriff’s search uncovers a terrifying creature that mimics voices, stalks from the trees, and feeds on fear—and flesh. This story was derived from ⁠⁠https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-939 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

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Begin your next chapter. Book your seat at westjet.com or call your travel agent. WestJet, where your story takes off. I set my coffee mug back onto the table, lining it up with the ring that was permanently engraved into the waxed wood surface. Meredith carefully got a tear on her long, pink nail, then wiped the mask. Kara-stained drop onto a napkin.

I just don't understand how no one has found him. It's been two whole days. She sniffled. I patted my mouth dry with the back of my hand. I know it's tough, but these things take time. I've got my boys working round the clock. We're going to find him, Meredith. I watched her intently, hoping we could wrap up this specially requested meeting soon.

I did need to get back to my job at some point. She nodded, sniffling as she patted the underside. side of her nose with her napkin. I just worry it's something real bad out there. You know how people in town talk. What if that thing got him? She started sobbing again. Now don't get yourself worked up about tall tales.

I can assure you there's a perfectly logical explanation for this, and we will get to the bottom of it. I shuffled uncomfortably in my seat. Human emotion was by far the hardest part of my line of work. She looked up at me with eyes red as sin. What about the others? We have no reason to believe they're connected at this point in the investigation. It wasn't a lie, but three missing persons cases in a month was out of the ordinary.

I just couldn't see the sense in upsetting her more when I had no answers to offer. I mustered a soft smile and spoke in a low voice. Why don't you go home and get some rest? I'll give you a call when we know more. I watched her as she relaxed her shoulders and stared up at me. Thank you, she whispered. I nodded and considered reaching for her hand to comfort her, but thought better of it.

Best not to overstep. I dropped a 20 on the table and made my way out of the diner. The gray glow of what would be another dreary day made it impossible to differentiate morning from afternoon. I hopped in the driver's seat of the squad car, where Bruce was crossing off one of the few remaining lines on his crossword puzzle. He tossed the folded newspaper under the dash. Some quick check-in, he murmured, grinning like a smart ass.

I raised my hand, motioning for him to pause. What do you want for me, Bruce? Poor lady's son is missing. Least I could do is offer her a bit of reassurance. Besides, we can't have her running around town scaring the community. Bruce's expression turned solemn. You know the community's already scared. You think the rumors are true?

All these missing person cases are not to mention. We don't have time for fairy tales. I interrupted. The kid is missing. Let's focus on the facts. It's our job. I kept my glare on the road and wrapped my hands tighter on the steering wheel. My knuckles turning white from the tension.

You got it, boss. Just rumors anyway. We'll find him soon enough. I wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure himself or me. Where to now? He asked. As if on cue, the radio beeped. And a female voice, wrapped in static, came through the radio.

Walden, this is Betsy. I pulled the radio close to my face. Go ahead. The boys found something up by the loading dock at Shallows Reservoir. I think you best go take a look. I let out a tight breath. We're on our way. I pulled into the dirt lot, not bothering to straighten my parking job next to the other squad cars.

I rested my forearm on the top of my window and scanned the area. Despite the slight drizzle, the lake looked beautiful, as if God had painted it himself. I focused my gaze on the group of detectives and officers gathered a few yards from the shore. I turned to Bruce, who was fixated on something in the woods. You good? Yeah, boss. He snapped out of his haze. My eyes were just playing tricks on me.

A broad-shouldered man named Len approached us. Morning, gentlemen. I think you need to take a look at this. We followed Len over to the crowd gathered around a circle of yellow tape. Bruce led out a whistle. Jesus! What is that? A set of tracks the size of a soccer ball were imprinted into the mud.

My blood ran cold. Too small for a coyote, dog, or even a wolf. It was hard to be shocked at anything after 20 years on the job, but this was out of my area of expertise. Anyone checked in with fish and wildlife on this? I asked. Jim's just as puzzled as we are, but he took some soil samples. Hopefully we can get some answers from the DNA, said Len.

That's not all. We found textile remnants near the dock, matching the description of what Tommy was last seen wearing when he disappeared. I let out a sigh. Good work, boys. Keep me updated when forensics gets back to us. We're going to have a look around. I nodded to Bruce, who followed close behind as I trekked through the ferns and into the woods.

The forest floor was damp under my feet, and I could hear the light trickling of rain as it kissed the canopy above. Why do bad things always happen in beautiful places? I scoffed. Now don't go getting all poetic on me, dreamer boy. I patted the young deputy on the shoulder. Bad things happen everywhere. We should know that in our line of work. A cry came out from the woods in front of where we stood.

My heart rate quickened, and I listened again, trying to place the source of the noise. The cry rang out again, this time from behind. Bruce looked to me for direction. You check west and I'll check north, I instructed. Bruce placed his hand on his gun and stepped forward hesitantly. I pivoted, scanning the forest for signs of movement. As I ventured further away from Bruce, a stick cracked. I jolted my neck to the right violently.

Nothing. I turned to my left. What in God's name? I murmured to myself as I saw a large black mass dart between the trees. A little voice called out. I pulled my radio from my holster and called for backup as I ran towards the sound. Hello, Tommy, are you out there? My name is Tucker Walden. I'm here to help.

I tried to sound as calm as possible, knowing the poor boy was probably scared to death. He cried out again. This time the opposite direction. I turned around, picking up my pace. I made my way back to where Bruce had been searching as I listened for the boy's voice. Instead, I heard Len's voice as he emerged from the thick foliage. Walden, where's Bruce? Len huffed out with a restricted breath.

I raised my brows. What do you mean? We split up and he went west. I pointed straight ahead. Len wiped a beat of sweat from his brow. We found his gun on the ground over there. He motioned over his shoulder with the back of his thumb. We can't find him anywhere.

I drove home in silence. Weed searched for Bruce well into the east. evening, and even as the sunset, and we found no sign of him. The situation was bad. Now it had become exponentially worse, and it was my fault. If I hadn't suggested we split up to search, he'd still be here in the passenger seat, probably being a smart ass. I slammed my palm on the steering wheel. It was around 2 a.m. when I finally pulled into the driveway. The porch light that Betsy had left on for me had a soft aura through the fog.

She was waiting in the kitchen when I stepped through the door. You all right? She asked, her white nightgown flowing with each stride she took towards me. Been better, I sighed, revving the back of my neck and fighting the stinging in my eyes with the last bit of strength I could muster. I failed him. How could I have let this happen on my watch? She placed her hands on my shoulders. Her gaze pierced through my tear-filled eyes. It's not your fault. Bruce is a strong kid. You guys were. will find him. There's something out there in those woods. Her eyes widened. What do you mean?

A serial killer? I don't think it's human. I saw something. I can't describe it with words. She led out a controlled breath. Well, you've had a long day. Whatever it is, human or not, you can't take it down with no sleep. I rubbed my eyes and looked out the kitchen window into the darkness. A shape moved through the yard. You're right. I must just be sleep-deprived. I shook my head, trying to release whatever kind of crazy had gotten its grip on me. The phone rang in the kitchen, rattling me from my sleep. I was still groggy from the night before.

I stumbled through the dining room and placed a hand on the cold granite countertop for support as I answered the phone, into my shirt, and cleared the phlegm from my throat before returning it to my ear. Are you sure that's necessary, sir? My team has it under control. I hear you loud and clear, I said, attempting to mask the defeat in my voice. His stern voice settled into a low tone. Roger. I hung the phone back up on the wall and started a cold shower.

The entire perimeter and all entrances to the reservoir were blocked to the public. Probably for the best. We still didn't have answers. But this was going to raise questions from the locals. I pulled the squad car into the parking lot that was filled with ten other vehicles. I approached the group of officers who were gathered near the dock. Walden, glad your ear, Len patted my shoulder. We received the results from fish and wildlife this morning.

And, I asked. I straightened my back, becoming alert at the potential for any information that could lead us to Bruce or Tommy. They did recover DNA from the soil sample. Problem is, the sequencing didn't match anything in their database. I felt a cold waft of adrenaline flow through. my chest. What does that mean? In the simplest terms, it means we don't know what's out there, but we'd better find it and get this under control before anyone else is hurt. Lens tone would have sounded confident to anyone, but I knew I'm well enough to hear the uncertainty beneath his

self-assured demeanor. We've made plans to inspect this forest up and down. We've got reinforcements, and the game warden's on call to trap this thing, whatever it is. I studied my map. The yellow highlighter streak marked my assigned zone. I placed my hand on my gun for good measure as I trekked through the woods. The forest was dense and lush, which made it dim even in the daytime. I scanned from 3 o'clock to 9 o'clock, taking careful steps forward. I checked the ground beneath my feet periodically for more tracks. I breathed in the fresh air that had been cleansed by yesterday's rain.

These woods were beautiful, but I wasn't about to get comfortable. Why do bad things happen in beautiful places? The thought of my last conversation with Bruce played over in my mind. I should have been less hard on him. He really was a good kid. The shadow from above cast over me. I looked up into the trees, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. The sun must have passed behind a cloud for a moment.

I made my way up a slight incline to a broken tree stump. I sat there for a moment to catch my breath. I froze as my gaze caught a bright red. pile of debris a few yards ahead. I scrambled from the stump and knelt in front of the pile. The stench stung my nostrils, and I turned over my shoulder, covering my nose and mouth with my elbow. I wretched uncontrollably for a moment. Leaving my elbow in front of my face, I reached for a stick and poked at the pile. If these were bodily remains, they were not in any recognizable shape, but the smell of rotting flesh couldn't be mistaken for anything else.

As I prodded the pile with the stick in horror, I noticed pieces of reflective metal distributed in the carnage. With an unsteady hand, I pulled my badge for my uniform and held it next to the debris. The chunks were small, but it was a perfect match. With a tear streaming down my face, I called for Len on the radio, describing my position and telling him he needed to come look for himself. While I waited for Len, I circled my location on the map. As I stared at the mark on the map, a shadow swept across the paper. I jumped, dropping my pen into the dirt and looking upwards at the canopy.

Hello! You up there, you bastard! I was in the brink of sobbing. You killed my friend, and an innocent child. What in God's name could do something like this? I heard Len's footsteps approach behind me, and I attempted to compose myself. I heard you screaming. What hell was going on? Len asked. He looked past my shoulder at the pile of flesh. Christ, he huffed, reaching for his radio.

We've got something. I need everyone over here now. He spat the coordinates into the radio before returning it to his holster. Bruce's his badge? Or what's left of? It is in that pile. I whispered, afraid if I said it too loud, it would become more real. Len stared at the reflective specks, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. Before he could respond, something in the trees moved. There was no denying it now. Something lurked above us.

We need backup now, Lund said into the radio. His high-pitched tone failing to mask the panic in his voice. We pulled our guns out, standing back to back and scanning the surrounding area. A voice echoed through the forest. Walden. Bruce's voice rumbled through my eardrums. You hear that? It can't be, I said in shock.

Walden, don't you move a muscle? You know the procedures. Wait for backup. Len ordered in a shaky tone. Walden, help me. Bruce's voice rang out again. It's him, I said. It has to be.

It's not him. I know you're in shock, and none of this makes sense, but we know Bruce is dead. Stay here, for the love of God, stay here. I bolted up the hill, sprinting deeper into the forest. Bruce! I called, holding my gun with both hands. Bruce, where are you?

About 500 yards away from Len, I was thrown off my feet by a rude force. A massive shadow engulfed me. I quickly regained my footing, searching for my gun. I saw it to my left and dove for it, looking up to find hundreds of sharp teeth buried at me. I stepped back in horror. The red, fleshy creature was the size of a car

with spikes protruding all the way down its spine. Wald and help me! The creature mimicked. No, this can't be real. I carefully reached for my radio, raising it shakily to my mind. mouth. Len, I found it, and it ain't good. Len's voice crackled through the radio. Hang tight. We're on our way. I could hear the commotion of dozens of men coming up the hill with

Len. I didn't move a muscle. The creature's head hovered near my face, releasing its wretched breath into my stinging nostrils. Right as I thought it was about to strike, it looked over my shoulder where Len and the other officers were making their way down the overgrown path. The creature tore the radio from my hand, sending it far out of my reach. I looked down at the torn flesh on my knuckles and braced myself for the final blow. But instead of attacking, the creature veered sideways and scaled a tree to my left. In my voice, eerily perfect, it called out. Len, I found it!

The words echoing from between its rows of jagged teeth. With agility and stealth, it jumped from tree to tree until it made its way to the opposite side of the forest, where it again called for Len with my voice. Realizing what it was trying to do, I cupped my hands around my mouth and called out to the officers. Don't split up! It wants to divide us apart! It was no match for the creature's projection, which carried across the forest. I watched the group split up, helpless from this distance. I looked to where my radio lay on the forest floor.

I darted towards it, sprinting as fast as I could. With shaky hands, I turned back to face the officers and clicked the radio on. Get back in formation! I yelled. Do not separate. It's a trip. Repeat, do not separate. But it was too late.

The group was spread thin across the forest. I watched, helpless, as the creature hopped from tree to tree, circling the officers undetected. It cried out as if mocking me as it jumped in front of the first group, who quickly fired their guns. The creature was unaffected by the bullets and sank its teeth into the neck of its first victim. The other two men screamed and, and turned their backs to run, but the creature was too fast.

It tore them apart with ease, one after the other, splattering their blood across the forest floor and painting the ferns red. Returning to the trees, it scoped out its next prey. I watched the human limbs fly as the creature, effortlessly flicked them over its shoulder. It let out a battle cry that reverberated through the woods, and the ground began to shake. I turned around to see four more creatures, each as ugly as the next, darting up the hill, their claws, disturbing the ground and violently flinging dirt behind as they barreled closer. As one set its sights on me, I raised my radio one last time. Len, there's more, I said, with little hope of being heard.

My radio beeped, the creature struck me, ripping my abdomen open with its claws. My vision became weaker. I could hear the faint sound of Len's voice on the radio and Bruce's call for help as they echoed through the forest. SCP 939 are eyeless, red-skinned pack-hunting predators that mimic human speech to lure prey, often using the voices of past victims. Standing over two meters tall and equipped with clawed limbs adapted for climbing, they possess glowing, fang-like teeth and heat-sensitive pits for tracking.

Despite their formidable appearance, SCP-939 lack many vital organ systems, including a brain, digestive tract, and, circulatory system, and have no need to feed, regurgitating tissue when their airways become obstructed. They exhale a potent amnestic agent that causes short-term memory loss in those exposed. These creatures can reproduce and are known to induce confusion, hallucinations, disorientation in their victims through both chemical and psychological means.