The SCP Experience - The Devil in Missouri | SCP-303

Episode Date: September 22, 2025

A young journalist checking into a quiet roadside motel soon discovers that the hallways hide something far more terrifying than ghosts—and it doesn’t want her to leave. This story was derived from SCP-303 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

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

Jenny Harlow turned the wheel as her station wagon rolled into the gravel parking lot. The glow of the sign that read Hotel Florence confirmed that she was in the right place. Plugging her suitcase out of the trunk, Jenny scanned the rest of the scenery of the town. noting the small dive bar a few blocks away. She smiled at a man in his early 20s who was dressed in blue jeans and a flannel shirt and rolled her suitcase towards the front office. He nodded his head in greeting

and pulled a cigarette from a crinkled case before replacing it in his back pocket. Pushing the door open with her back, Jenny rolled her suitcase under the lobby and heard a raspy yet pleasant, as an older woman scurried to help with the door. She squeezed past her extended arm and pressed on the glass.

Jenny jolted when she let out an unexpected yell. Jimmy, we have a guest. Can you put that damn cigarette out and come tend to our paying customer? Jenny turned her head to see the man in the flannel, hurriedly stop out his cigarette next to the dumpster, and jogged back across the parking lot. He huffed a bit as he caught up with the two inside the front office. Sorry about that, him, Stephanie.

Thought I'd have time for a quick break. The woman rolled her eyes, the hem of her dress swaying against her shins as she circled around behind the front desk and took a seat on the stool. She softened her stern expression and returned her attention to the new guest. What's the name on the reservation, hunt? Jenny Harlow, she said, watching Stephanie scan the screen on her ancient computer. Jenny's hand rested on the dark wood countertop,

and she resisted the urge to tap her fingers, a nervous habit that her mother had always said was rude. Stephanie looked up, peering above the red frames of her glass. I don't see any Harlows in the system. Jenny pursed her lips. It's for work. I'm with Prairie Times. My boss's name is... Oh, you're the journalist. Stephanie interrupted.

I made that reservation last week. It's got to be in here somewhere. She clicked a few keys, scanning the blue glow from her screen up and down. Here it is. Steve Larson? The journalist nodded in relief. Yeah, that's my boss. He must have forgotten to put my name on the reservation. The clerk dangled a key between the pointy red nails on her index finger and thumb. Room 303. Jimmy will take your bags and show you to your room.

Jenny thanked her and followed the man as he rolled her suitcase down the hallway. The overhead lights did little to illuminate the corridor, which was cradled by dark wood paneling. Fake, decorative plants were evenly spaced between every three doors. They got to the end of the hall where she expected an elevator, but instead Jimmy opened the door to a stairwell. She felt a pang of guilt as he hoisted the overpacked bag above his head and started up the stairs. Between the panting and awkward silence, she attempted polite conversation.

So where's the best place around here to grab a bite to eat? Jimmy huffed out a labored breath. The Goodfellow's bar is right down the street. Best steak in town. It was most likely the only stake in town, but she thanked him for the recommendation. When they finally made it to room 303, Jenny pulled the small golden key from the pocket of her dress. Jiggling the key into the lock, she had to use some force to pry the door open. Jimmy chuckled.

Hold doors, you know? They don't make them like they used to. He reached to lift her bag once more. She stopped him, digging back in her pocket. I've got it from here. Thanks again for your help. With two fingers, she offered him a folded $10 bill. He muttered a brief.

Thank you. before turning hesitantly back towards the stairwell, then pivoting on his back heel to face her once more. One more thing, miss, he added in a hushed tone. Jenny paused in the middle of the doorframe. Yes, she asked, concerned that maybe the tip wasn't enough. He stared down at his boots for a moment before meeting her gaze. If you hear anything strange out here in the hallway, check the peephole.

I'd never open the door for a stranger, if that's what you're saying, Jenny glanced around the hallway. It wasn't the nicest accommodation, but she doubted there was a lot of crime in such a tiny town. Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck nervously. It's more of a superstition, I guess. It helps to make sure the spirits move along and such. At the word spirits, her eyebrows shot up.

I see. She started carefully, and seeing him still standing there, added, Well, thanks for the advice, but I'm not superstitious. Suit yourself. He shrugged and walked back towards the stairwell. Nice work, Lanssen. Jenny mumbled under her breath. I guess booking me a haunted motel in the middle of nowhere

is one way to let me know that I'm your least favorite employee. She rolled her suitcase inside before latching the door shut. As if sending me to cover the St. Louis County Fair wasn't obvious enough, she scoffed, reminding herself that this was just a stepping stone. She'd stack up some experience with the publication, then move on to bigger and better things. Besides, the situation could be worse. As if on cue, a woman shrieked from out in the hallway.

Jenny ran to the door and unfastened the latch. For a moment, she was frozen in front of the door. Her body was flooded with adrenaline, and she tried with all her might to reach for the door handle, but couldn't move. Her heart thumped as a wheezing sound floated in from out in the hallway. Wincing, Jenny inclined her head, closing one eye against the peephole.

Almost instantly, the feeling of panic subsists. and her hand reached for the cold metal handle. She nearly fell out of the door as she pressed it open. Looking up and down the hallway, she searched for whoever had shrieked, or at least what was wheezing outside her door. After a moment, her eyes locked onto a woman leaning against the wall, clutching a duffel bag. The door to what she assumed was her room was ajar,

with the number 315 barely visible. Jenny approached her slowly as she whimpered, mumbling something incoherent. Are you all right? Jenny bent her knees once she reached the woman, moving to her eye level. I saw it. That thing with my own two eyes. The woman whimpered before breaking into a sob. Jenny awkwardly reached for her shoulder, attempting to comfort her.

Hey now, everything's going to be all right. Can I call someone for you? She waited patiently for the sobs to subside enough for her to speak again. The woman sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. something ain't right here. The devil walks these halls, she said in a low shaky tone. I'm getting out while I still can, and you should do.

She shook Jenny's hand off her shoulder and cradled her duffel bag as she slid past, not bothering to close the door to her room before jogging down the dark hallway. Jenny watched her sprint to the stairwell before running her fingers through her hair, feeling the soft scratch against her skull as her nails traveled towards the back of her head.

Not knowing what to do, she paced back to her room, remembering the trapped feeling from earlier, and leaving the door open behind her. Grabbing her purse, she reached through the dark fabric to retrieve a little orange bottle, kept in case of an emergency. She decided that whatever this weirdness was, counted as an emergency, and popped a little white pill onto her tongue. Her stomach rumbled, and she decided to see if the steak dinner down the road was all it was cracked up to be. As the meds kicked in, Jenny's heart rate eased to a steady pace. as she stepped into the dimly lit dive bar. The sounds of a honky-tonged playlist and glass clattering echoed through the surprisingly busy bar.

Jenny! A voice called from the back of the small room. She turned to see Jimmy waving and motioning for her to join him at the bar. His enthusiasm was in sharp contrast with his reserved demeanor earlier that day. Maybe the empty beer pitcher loosened him up a bit. He grinned at her as he pulled out the bar stool next to him. I see you took my recommendation to heart, he noted, handing over a folded paper menu that had seen better days. Jenny nodded as she scanned the menu up and down and ordered a steak and fries from the woman behind the bar.

She turned to Jimmy. The lady who was staying in 315, do you know anything about her? Jimmy emptied his beer glass with a big gulp. 315? Not sure. Aunt Steph probably checked her in. Why? Jenny reached for a French fry and plunged it into the ketchup cup. She just seemed real upset earlier, talking about how the devil walks the halls.

I just wanted to make sure she was all right. Jimmy chuckled, motioning with his empty pitcher to the bartender. Sounds like she might have had a screw loose. Besides, the devil don't live in Missouri. He grinned at her reassuringly. I don't think she was crazy, she said sternly. I heard something too. Realizing that Jenny was being serious, Jimmy straightened his back.

Look, I know you said you don't believe in ghosts, but sometimes strange things happen in the motel. No big deal. Whatever it is doesn't mean no harm. He stared at her, studying the reaction to his words. Jenny leaned in, checking her periphery for anyone who might have been listening. I felt like I couldn't open my door earlier. It's like I was frozen in fear. Jimmy leaned in, meeting her gaze. He doesn't like it when people try to leave. Did you check the peephole like I told you?

She huffed out a tight breath. I tried. Like I said, I was frozen. I was literally trapped behind the door. Jimmy shrugged. It's best to face things of this nature head on. Look him right in the eyes. Jimmy leaned back. Look the ghost directly in the eyes to make it go away, got it?

She taunted sarcastically. But seriously. Sounds like there's a lot of strange things that go on in this small town. Maybe there's a story here for me. Listen, you asked for my help, and I gave you the best advice I got. Now, do me a favor and don't go writing any stories. The business really can't take any more bad press. Jimmy scooted off his stool and shook his jacket over his shoulders.

She followed suit, smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress. What do you mean? What else has happened here? Ignoring the question, Jimmy threw a 20 on the same. the counter and nodded to the bartender. I've got a night shift at the motel. I'll walk back with you. As they crossed under the vacancy sign that glowed red through the pitch black night,

the flashing lights of two cop cars illuminated their faces. Peering through the brightness, Jenny spotted a baby blue car. Its bumper was wrapped violently around a utility pole. Her heart stopped when she saw the woman in the driver's seat. A small stream of blood ran down her forehead. She turned to Jimmy, who'd gone pale,

and whispered, That's the woman from 315. Jimmy led out a labored breath and placed his hands on either side of his hips. Fuck, here we go again. He mumbled under his breath, shaking his head. Why don't you go back to your room for the night? Get some rest, and I'll get this sorted.

He stepped closer to the scene of the accident. Jenny walked a few strides across the parking lot before grabbing her phone and dialing Lanssen's number. It went straight to voicemail. Lanson, it's me, she said. I want to hold off on the fair story. I think I just stumbled onto something way bigger. I'll tell you the details tomorrow.

She hung up, then caught Jimmy Stair, a piercing look even from across the parking lot. No bad press, she remembered his request, but that was too good of an opportunity to pass up. If she could uncover what was happening at this motel, it could put her on the map as a journalist. She waved at Jimmy, attempting to mask any premature guilt.

before heading to a room inside Hotel Florence. When she made it back upstairs, Jenny gave Room 315 a wide berth, hesitating for a second before her own door clicked, closed. Reaching for the olive green phone on the nightstand, she dialed for the lobby. Front desk, this is Stephanie. The clerk's raspy voice surfed the static through the old telephone line. Hi, this is Jenny from Room 303, she said pleasantly. I'd like to extend my stay through the week.

weekend if possible. Share thing. More question if you don't mind. Did the cops say anything about what happened to the girl from room 315? She seemed upset earlier this evening and I... Unfortunately, Miss Harlow, I'm not at liberty to discuss the private matters of our other guests. Stephanie's tone was formal and stern. Especially not with the press. Now, if there's nothing else I can assist you with, I'm afraid I need to get back to work. That's all. Jenny said softly. Thank you for your help. She hung up, disappointed at how quickly she wound up on the clerk's bad side, maybe tomorrow

would bring more luck. Exhausted, Jenny stretched and ambled into the bathroom. She turned the shower as hot as the hotel's safety limit would allow. Peeling off her clothes, her mind ran through a to-do list for the following day. She needed to let Jimmy know that she was covering the county fair story and wouldn't do anything to make the hotel look bad. She just wanted answers. There was a story here.

She could feel it. Sliding open the shower, she stepped inside as the steamy water poured down her tired body. With one hand, she slid the glass closed, and with the other, she reached for the mini shampoo bottle. Within a minute, Jenny was scrubbing the strange day off, starting with her scalp. She closed her eyes as the lather ran down her face. A sharp pang of fear stabbed into Jenny's chest. It was the same chilling dread from earlier.

The bathroom lights went out, and fresh adrenaline surged through her veins. She wiped the soap and water from her face and carefully peeled her eyes open. Blinking, Jenny tried to adjust to the darkened room. The only light came from the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Hello? She called out, her voice cracking. Hello, no one's in your room. Calm down.

It's just a burned out light ball. Despite the growing sense of panic, Jenny took deep breaths and shook her hands to break her freeze. A minute or so passed, and her breathing steadied. The hot spray of water helped a little as it rinsed off the remaining shampoo. In the silence, a faint wheeze came from outside the shower. Her heart stopped. Something was on the other side of the foggy glass. Jenny reached forward slowly and turned the water off.

The silence was quickly filled with deep, heavy breaths. No, no, this can't be happening. It's just my imagination, she thought. She turned to her side. Peering through the glass, Jenny could just see the outline of a tall creature through the steam. Her heart threatened a beat out of her chest, but she resisted the urge to scream and carefully lifted her hand, dragging her palm across the door and clearing a small section of glass. Behind the shower door stood a faceless creature, a set of massive teeth covered over half its face,

which was otherwise devoid of features. Tears flooded down her cheeks. The woman backed up against the shower wall and slid down until she was, She felt the support of the porcelain underneath. Curling into a ball, Jenny screamed, sobbing into her shaking arms. She was trapped! It felt like hours before she found the courage to lift her head and open her eyes. The steamy glass walls had cleared, and the bathroom was empty.

She stood up slowly, shivering, and carefully stepped out of the shower. Jenny reached a shaky hand towards the towel rack and wrapped herself in the dry cotton. for the phone once more. She dialed the front desk. Something came into my room. Jenny blurted before the desk clerk could finish her greeting. What do you mean? Stephanie gasped. I'm sure there's been some sort of misunderstanding. With all due respect, I'm not crazy, and I know what I saw. Jenny couldn't keep all the shrillness out of her voice. Stephanie whispered something as she pulled away from the phone. The line was quiet for a moment.

Jenny sighed, relieved that someone was on the way. Okay, thank you. Just minutes later, a knock sounded from the door. Jenny? It's Jimmy. You okay? She stepped quickly to the door and unlatched it, beckoning for him to come inside. Nervously, she peered out into the hallway as he closed the door behind him, afraid that the creature would come back at any moment. I'm so glad you're here. I saw it, Jimmy, with my own two eyes. She motioned for him to follow, turning her back and walking towards the bathroom.

A gun clicked, and she froze. Don't turn around. I'd just like to get this over with. Jimmy's voice was flat, almost bored. Jimmy? What are you doing? Look, this might be hard for you to understand. But this business is our livelihood. If one more story gets out, we're done for. I really don't want to do this, but you know too much.

Jenny took a shaky breath in. Jimmy, listen, it's okay. I won't write the story. I'll head to the fair in the morning, just as planned. It'll be like nothing ever happened. It's too late, he said as he pulled the trigger. SCP 303 is a nude, sexless, emaciated humanoid with reddish-brown skin, an oversized mouth full of human-like teeth, and no other facial features,

constantly emitting a loud wheezing sound. It manifests behind closed doors or barriers chosen seemingly at random, instilling overwhelming primal fear in anyone attempting to open them. despite not intentionally inducing this fear. SEP 303 never allows more than 10% of its body to be seen, obscuring itself with positioning, fog or frost, and dematerializes if approached, without an obstruction in place. It disables nearby electronic or mechanical devices,

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