The SCP Experience - The Everything Tree | SCP-038

Episode Date: February 27, 2023

Be sure to check out my new UFO podcast here: THEY'RE OUT THERE - based on real life encounters with unidentified flying objects. SCP Foundation SAFE class object, SCP-038: The Everything Tree This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-038 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Lucas Click Discover the Author's impressive series of SCP Tales here: https://www.amazon.com/kindle-vella/story/B0BVWJFGV3 Check out more of Mr. Click's work here: newpulptales.com 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

Lazang sur-gillet, Puisance-Moyerned 15 minutes. Oh, you'd say that's the Dojo, ready to play? Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo.

The casino in-line that proposes the most recent machine-a-sou and the games of B'Bas Bonanza. Without exigance of misgents and with

the payments instantane. Hey, I've gained. Woo-hoo! Sentire the pleasure. Play-Ojo 18-10 and plus, 1,1,000, 10 tours only for the

machine-a-soubys-Begas Bonanza. Depos Minimimimum of 10 dollars. Veillage me in a way responsible. The conditions apply. The gun nearly dropped from my hands after squeezing the trigger. It felt even more awkward in my hand than concealed in my lab code. I stared at it. Shocked by all the senses it stimulated.

The force as it went off in my hands, the ringing in my ears, the stench of gunpowder in my nostril that I could taste on my tongue. It was more than I had ever prepared for. I shouldn't have spent more time at the range before deciding to shoot someone. You, you shot me! Dr. Klein's incredulous voice snapped me out of my haze. I hadn't aimed, not really, but I assumed the bullet would have hit something vital. Instead, it entered low across his stomach.

I thought that's what the security forces would call a graze. We stared at each other until he reached for his radio. Containment breach, SCP. Prepared for the recoil. I gripped the gun in both hands before repeatedly pulling the trigger. Most of my shots went wild, blowing home. holes into the walls. But more than enough bullets found Dr. Klein. He slumped in his chair as his blood poured onto the ground. Don't move, I snapped and brandished the gun at the other people in the

room. They were all researchers like myself. I didn't even know how many bullets I had left in the gun, but it was enough to keep them in line. I motioned them to one of the chambers off to the side and punched in my code. Apparently, Dr. Klein hadn't had time to change my access codes. The lights on the panel flashed green and red, confirming the lock. I hurried across the room, knowing I was still on borrowed time. Some containment facilities were practically small cities unto themselves. Powers was relatively small, though, focused on plant-based SCPs. Rumors traveled fast in the small facility and gunfire even quicker.

Someone nearby must have heard the shots and was alerting security. I reached for Dr. Klein's coat but froze, staring in shock at the dead man. The man I murdered. When push came to shove, I couldn't die for love. But I was quite capable of killing for it. I now knew. Snatching off his identity badge,

I rushed to the greenhouse beyond, swiping the door open just as the claxon sounded. The whole room became splashed in red lights that indicated a containment breach. Once on the other side of the door, I initiated the lockdown protocols, Metal girders dropped below the glass walls just as the first security guards entered the room. Seeing the dead body, they raised their guns.

The metal slats cut them from view, but the bullets dinged loudly as they ricocheted. Time. I realized that was the cause of my current predicament. Time that I took for granted and mismanaged. Even then, I only seized on the opportunity after she was gone. And now there I was. once more at the mercy of time. Would I have enough?

Didn't matter anymore. I had to see this through. Turning from the door, I walked up the grassy pathway to the tree, dropping my gun. I wouldn't need it anymore. Dr. Klein had continued the experiments in my absence. Several different pieces of fruit hung from the tree,

as well as more unusual items. A plasma screen TV also bent one of the branches, as well as half of a motorcycle and several kittens with their eyes closed, hanging like Christmas ornaments. I stopped and froze at one of the beer cans nestled in the leaves and lost myself briefly in nostalgia. There was a loud thud at the door. They were trying to get in. Time. I reminded myself and reached for the bloody cloth in my pocket. I unwrapped it, revealing the tip of a finger, the nail painted in electric blue polish. I placed it against the tree's trunk, knowing that now all I had was time. I stood back and waited.

I reached my shears toward the top branch and clipped the remote control away from the branch. Turning it over in my hand, I made several notes in my log. It certainly looked exactly like the remote control from the break room. I walked over to the nearby tray and compared the two. Some worn and faded buttons on the original looked brand new on the cloned object. I made a note on the tablet, cataloging the differences, then sealed them in separate bags. They would be studied later by another department to see if any other differences existed between the two remotes. Riffeting scientific research, Dr. Leeds, the familiar voice came from the branch above me.

I looked up to see Daphne lounging in the tree like a cat. She reached a hand with electric blue nails into one of the crowns of leaves and plucked a bottle of beer. I sighed. Didn't Dr. Klein tell you to stop cloning beer? This is apple cider. She frowned at me. It's related to the SCP's native fauna. Hard apple cider.

Well, yeah. I'm not a savage, am I? You want one? I shook my head. Daph, you'll get transferred if you keep this up. He's got to stick up his ass further than yours? She asked with a grin. I rubbed my eyes.

I'm just saying you'll last longer if you follow the rules. He's right. I jumped at the new voice, but Daphne only grinned at me as Dr. Klein strolled beside me. I don't know how he managed to walk without a sound. The man was like a ghost, down to his appearance. Rake thin, pale skin, and faint white wisps of hair always hovered around his otherwise bald scalp. The dark circles under his eyes only added to his haunted expression, especially when paired with his perpetual frown that always deepened into a scowl when Daphne was present.

Dr. Reese, Klein glared at her. I thought I made a memorandum to stop using the tree to clone alcoholic beverages. Daphne adjusted herself on the branch to hang from it upside down, all without spilling a drop. If she noticed her shirt coming untucked from her pants, she gave no reaction. And I found myself staring at her toned stomach. I caught myself staring at Daphne a lot in the two years we worked together in a way that friends and colleagues shouldn't.

Daphne adjusted the bottle so Klein could see. The frosted outline of the bottle had streaks from her fingers. Experimentation on temperament variation. The tree clones everything perfectly under 200 pounds. I was curious to see if it would clone something at the exact temperature of the original sample. It does, so long as you snag it off the branch fast enough, of course. Klein's expression darkened further.

And you couldn't experiment with a frozen water bottle because? Daphne flipped from the branch and landed graciously on her feet. Because I'm awesome? Charming. Klein's tone was ever flat. If you showed a modicum of decorum with the experiments the Dr. Leeds does, you would... His eyes glanced higher up the tree, and I flinched. A patch of orange wrappers grew from one of the thinner branches

like a natural edible bouquet, peanut butter M&Ms, the same wrappers that always littered my desk. I squirmed as Dr. Klein turned his gaze toward me. Volume capacity, I cleared my throat. I wanted to see how often we could clone a subject from the same source material, and if any degradation occurs in the process, it should help us determine the tree's limits, Daphne smirked.

And the vending machine is always selling out of them. A grin involuntarily spread across my lips. That too. Klein sighed and rubbed his eyes. Commendable. But in the future, please confine your experiments to the standards and restrictions you are both aware of. Daphne glanced down at her watch, and I mimicked the action. Our shift was over.

She fired off a mock salute to Dr. Klein while I filed our results on the tablet and handed them to our superior. He dismissed us with a hand wave, and we made our way to the elevator. A moment passed in silence before I shook my head. You really shouldn't aggravate him. Why not? she frowned. It's fun as hell. I'm serious, Daff, I crossed my arms. You keep this up, and he'll reassign you, maybe even to a different facility.

Ah, she put on an exaggerated frown. And you're wondering just what you would do without me? I rolled my eyes, but bit down on my bottom lip. I never was much of a people person. It's why I went into botany. Plants were much less complicated than people, and were as oblivious to their protection of the planet as we were indifferent to its destruction.

All my life, I was always more content with working with plants and going home to read a decent book. In that way, I wasn't that different for most researchers that worked for the foundation. That all changed after I started working with Daphne. She was a brilliant botanist, a genius in the field with degrees and doctorates to back it up. Her carefree attitude and unorthodox experiments

didn't change the fact that she uncovered more about plant-based SCPs than any other researcher in the foundation's history. Her problems with authority were the only thing that kept her from outranes, thanking Dr. Klein. She also had no problem interacting with people. At first, I found her distracting and annoying, but she slowly opened my personality. Without her encouragement, I never would have attempted several experiments on the cloning tree. In a matter of months, she had become my best friend, a vacant position for most of my life. And over the past year, I realized I loved her beyond friendship. I went too long without saying anything, and something must have shown in my

expression despite my crude attempts to conceal my feelings. Her lips quivered into the same mischievous grin that was present in Klein's scowls. You know, she waved a hand through her hair, pushing back one of her blue locks the same color as her nail polish. You can't go out with me unless you ask me out. As far as catch-22s go, that one is pretty basic. Okay, so what are you doing The word sprang from my lips without thought, and I was surprised to see that I meant them. Daphne's face transformed into an expression I had never seen before. Shock. And this was a woman who routinely used a tree to clone her favorite bruise.

It wasn't long before another smile reoriented across her lips. This one also knew to me, complete with a slight blush of her cheeks. I... The explosion cut off the rest of her reply. It knocked us off our feet as the elevator doors flung open, knocking us both into the hallway. The flashing red lights blinded me while the blaring sirens deafened my ears. I climbed up on shaking feet, reached for Daphne, and lifted her up. The hallway was chaos.

Our security forces were locked in battle with combatants in similar uniforms. Bullets flew through the hall. Daphne's hand slid into mine as a gunman stormed up the hallway. Gun raised. Daphne pulled her hand away and shoved me roughly on the front. chest, knocking me onto the floor as the gun roared. The man fell in a hail of bullets as more of our security forces stormed in from the opposite hallway. They marched past us, heading into the thick of the battle. My hands were hot and sticky with blood that covered the hallway. Daphne lay in a crumpled heat

beside me. I wasn't hit, but my legs had no strength as I crawled toward her and pulled her into my arms. She coughed blood, then immediately wheezed from the holes in her chest. Adrenaline fueled me new strength as I ripped my coat off and applied pressure to her wounds. Daph! Hey! Hey, look at me, Daphne! I screamed until she opened her eyes. There you are, hey! Just hang on, okay? There's all kinds of doctors and SEPs here we don't even know about. This is nothing. You're going to be okay. We've got that date to go on, remember? Hang on! My words came out in a rapid clip that I could barely understand. Daphne gave me the same

grin she always did when she thought I was stressing too much, smiling, even though blood stained her teeth. She reached up her hand and touched the side of my cheek. Tears slid down my eyes as I felt the warmth leave her fingers before her arm fell weightlessly to the side. I don't know how long I sat there holding her. It was long after the sirens and gunfire had finally stopped. I eventually heard voices coming from the hallway, the march of heavy armor. Suddenly, I remembered the shears in my coat. I took them out and reached for Daphne's hand. grief, guilt, and alcohol. Those three things plagued me for the two weeks after Daphne died.

The Foundation, of course, had plenty of psychiatric aid and counseling on staff. A job like ours always had the risk of insanity, some departments more than others. But I never could let my guard down during the mandated sessions. Secrecy was second nature to the Foundation, and it wasn't an easy habit to break. Besides, the psychiatrists were there to keep us working rather than heal us. I was one of the best in the field, maybe the best after Daphne died, and they didn't want to cast me aside if they could make me functional. I went to the sessions and paid them lip services,

but I spent my leave at the tree more than any place else. I took the bottles of Daphne's favorite cider and threw them down my gullet, the taste, a reminder of our time spent together. the alcohol numbing my pain. Then I wandered the halls drunk, cloning more bottles until I passed out. The security guards had spoken to me a few times, but more out of professionalism than security concerns. They had also lost people in the attack,

and I felt a lingering sympathy in their tone even while they reprimanded me. While I drank, I wrestled with the decision before me. Daphne's fingertip was kept hidden away in the fridge in my quarters. I was never a church-going man, but I didn't consider myself an unbeliever either. First and foremost, I was a scientist and didn't bother with things that couldn't be quantified, measured, or examined until I fell in love with Daphne. That love turned me from a botanist into a philosopher. Did I have the right to use the tree to see her again?

The soul is as unmeasurable as a concept as God. If I were to clone her, would it also bring her soul back? And if so, did that mean I would pull her out of heaven to suffer on earth again? And even then, the tree had its limits. The cloned food and drinks tasted the same as the original. But one of the first experiments with the tree was testing the longevity of the cloned subjects. Two weeks. That's how long they lasted until they broke down into nothingness.

I didn't have the right to bring her back for a mere two weeks to dissuade my guilt and longing. Despite coming to this conclusion, I still couldn't bring myself to throw away the tiny part of her flesh I had stolen and kept like a sick memento. You assured me you would choose discretion over that bloodbath. Klein's voice raised me from my drunken stupor. I had fallen asleep behind the base of the tree. However, considering the number of cider bottles littered around me, it would be more accurate to say I blacked out. I listened to the voice with the same detached interest I showed everyone

since Daphne died and quietly opened another bottle. He waited, listening to an unheard voice on the other line. And yet, the tree remains, and my position remains compromised. Another pause. It's Dr. Leeds. He and Dr. Reese would have been perfect assets to obtain when you procured the tree. Instead, you may.

murdered one and turned the other into a blubbering drunk. Another pause. Then Klein sighed deeply. After that last blunder, they've doubled security. I'll let you know when they let their guard down. As for Dr. Leeds, well, his drinking has become a problem. I'll have them reassigned, and if that's not enough, you know what to do. Through blurry eyes, I glanced at the camera affixed to the corners of the glass ceiling.

The tiny red lights usually blinking in the corner were absent. Only Klein had access to the security feeds. He must have disabled them to make the call. The bottle pressed into my palm as I squeezed it tight. I waited for Klein to leave, then made my decision. I knew what I needed to do. But first, I needed a gun. Sneaking a gun out of the armory would have been even more difficult since I was in research, not security.

Luckily, though, this is America. The only thing higher in this country than medical debt is gun ownership. With a clean record, it was easy to wait a couple of days for my background check to clear and pick up my new gun. A gun which, if all things went to plan, I would only fire once. I waited and watched the tree, noting that the pounding on the door had subsided. Security forces had given up on breaching the door through basic means and were now searching for something more practical. I didn't know how much time I had, but the tree always worked fast.

Cloning humans was only slightly longer than cloning a television set. I watched as she grew, first as an embryo, then as a child. In a matter of minutes, she was an adult, then the same age when she had died. Her hair was strawberry blonde. Strange that I never knew that. The tree didn't stop at her genetic makeup. Clothes sprouted out from her body. The same jeans and quiet riot t-shirt she wore when she bled out. Her lab coat was next. The final stage was her hair and fingernails brightening into the same electric shades of blue I was more familiar with. The branch snapped as she fell, and I rushed forward. Once again, though, Daphne didn't need my help. She landed as gracefully as she had the last time I saw her. Still, she took my arm,

and looked down at her hands, opening and closing them before feeling her chest. Then she spun around and looked at the tree. Holy shit! She whirled and looked at me. I fucking died, didn't I? Tears filled my eyes. I could only nod as a sob forced itself from my throat. I felt her hands on my face again, warm and full of life,

as she wiped my tears away. When my eyes finally cleared, her face filled my vision, and I saw a frown on her lips. I'm happy to see you again. I really am. But this isn't healthy for you. Two weeks, genius. That's all I get, remember?

What's your plan? Cloning me every fortnight? A smile crested my lips. The first in weeks. She was the same as before, complete with her memories of the incident. Again, she was more concerned about me than herself. Even though she knew she was on borrowed time.

But then, so was I. It took me precious moments. till I finally found my voice. It's okay. Pretty sure I have less than that. She blinked, and her eyes widened at the discarded gun a few feet away. Oh, you idiot! What did you do?

Before I could answer, something exploded behind us. The sound of pounding footsteps filled the room, and I knew that I was out of time. I put my hands on her hips and pulled her close, pressing my lips against hers. She gave into the kiss eagerly, and her warmth enveloped me as the bullets ripped in my body. The gunfire stopped, and I fell weightlessly into her arms.

Her knees sunk into the ground, taking me with her, my hands and hers. That's when I felt the hot warmth and noticed the blood that covered her body wasn't just mine. Oh, God. I coughed blood. I'm so sorry. I was a botanist. What did I know about bullets? Daphne didn't say a word.

She only chuckled and held our bloody hands together. She smiled as she placed both of our hands against the tree's bark. SCP-38 was found on an abandoned farm in upstate New York. It was at first thought to be a common apple tree. However, upon closer inspection, it became apparent that SCP-38 was growing things other than apples and, in fact, other than fruit. SCP-38 has the ability to clone any object that touches its bark,

Objects begin growing almost instantaneously and reach maturity within a matter of minutes. A weight limit of 90.9 kilograms, 200 pounds, per object, has been previously recorded. Objects that SCP 38 has thus far cloned include apples, oranges, watermelons, eggplants, candy bars, snack foods, televisions, toasters, laptops, keys, chairs, wine, DVDs, CDs, cats, dogs, and people. Human and animal cloning through SCP 38 is not recommended, as they appear to age quickly. The majority of these clones live on average two weeks.