The SCP Experience - The Fun Slide! | SCP-4370

Episode Date: March 14, 2022

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-4370: The Fun Slide! This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-4370, and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Lucas Click Check out the Author'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. #drscp #scp #scpfoundation #doctorscp #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories #scpexplained #whatisscp Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The music blare's out of place throughout the surrounding woodlands. Even more out of place is the vast number of people. It looks like the entire high school has shown up, with every click imaginable in attendance. Geeks and comic book and D&D t-shirts, goths in their dark and baggy clothes, and preppy jocks and cheerleaders in their school jackets. All of us were united in the pre-graduation jubilation. Our differences over the past four years lay forgotten for one last night together.

The usual darkness of Bitterroot National Park is kept at bay by a massive bonfire at the center of the clearing. Not far from the fire, people dance and mingle. Others weave in and out on wobbly legs, making their way to and from the assorted kegs and bottles of booze on offer at the repurposed picnic tables. Shaking my head, I walk over to the abandoned playground set that Liam and I discovered last week. Liam has been my best friend since first grade. The age when your only criteria for a best friend was proximity. Over the previous 11 years, Liam has grown more popular and athletic,

while I have become shyer and more withdrawn. Despite that, he's still the closest. thing to a brother I have. I grin at that thought and wonder if we'll remain close after graduation. Liam got an academic scholarship for a state university while I was accepted into a school in Pennsylvania. I know I should be cherishing the short time that we still have together, but he's Mr. popularity, and I'm a wallflower. I've put in as much time as I can in the forced social interactions department, and decided to let Liam bask in the glory of being the founder and host of the party. Time for a little me time. I rest my hand along the slide. It's hard to

picture a time when the playground must have glimmered brand new. Everything is so worn and rusted that it practically radiates tetanus. Nearby, a couple of freshmen drift back and forth on the rusted swings. The chain suddenly go loose, dumping the student on the ground, and his beer all over his head. His girlfriend cackles at him, and I hide my smile by pretending to study the graffiti on the side. Someone has taken a permanent marker to the rust. Fun slide, the words read. It's not very original, but the bluntness perfectly sums up what it's like to live in Montana. God, I can't wait to get out of here. I circle the slide before squatting down in front of its steps and fish into my pockets.

Rolling papers, lighter, and baggy of weed, my stash is all present and accounted for. Quickly, I go to work, picking out the seeds and stems, before grinding the dry remains between my middle finger and thumb. I'm no outlaw, but weed is my preferred illegal. pastime. Don't get me wrong. I can see the appeal to underage drinking, but one hangover was enough for me, thanks. I've put off rolling a joint until I could find a quiet spot alone while everyone else is distracted and drunk. High schoolers are all like parasites, one whiff of bud, and suddenly everyone wants a puff, and I didn't bring enough for the whole class. I roll my joint

with well-practiced ease, then bring it to my lips and light it. A couple of puffs get me started. Then I take a long drag that leaves me coughing. My whole body feels a couple pounds lighter. My thoughts a bit freer. Closing my eyes, I lean back against the slide. I'm not much for parties, but there are a few things I love more than listening to music while I'm high.

The pulsing beat from the loudspeakers mingles against my skin as the sensations of touch and sound blend together. As time goes on, I feel eyes on me. Grumbling, the smell of my joint must have gotten some unwanted attention. I don't like to share, but then it's hard to hold a grudge when you're on your way to getting stoned. Not wanting to be disturbed from the music, I keep my eyes closed and hold my joint up, waiting for someone to take a hit. The joint grows hot,

between my fingers, but the feeling of being watched persists. I open my eyes, but I'm by myself. Even the freshmen on the swings have left to rejoin the more festive areas of the party. My nerves rise in me, and my skin grows cold as I stare into the woods. It feels like something is looking back at me. No, I realize as the feeling grows stronger, not something, but some things. There you are, Cheech. I jump as a giant hand lands on my shoulder. Got enough for your pal, Chong? Liam somehow nimbly plucks the joint from my fingers

with hands that can easily palm a basketball. He brings it to his lips and breathes in deep. The exhaled smoke is tinged with the stink of Jack Daniels and Keystone. Like me, he relishes the sensation a moment before opening his eyes. Then he looks me up and down and frowns. Shit, Chas, you see a ghost or something? Ah, Christ. He would have to put that idea in my head.

I shiver, and he lets out a chuckle before patting me on the shoulder again. Lighten up, man. I'm only joking. Wait, did you? Fuck off, Jock! I let out the breath I was holding and tried to laugh, but my throat is too dry. Swallowing, I gesture towards the woods. Do you feel like we're being watched?

He looks at the forest, then back to me, and uses his best cop voice. How much of the wacky-backy you have tonight, son? I open my mouth, but a sound cuts me off. It's coming from the woods. It's hard to hear it first because of the music from the party, but beneath it, I can just make out the sound of someone whispering. Do you hear that? Liam frowns at me.

That does it. You're officially cut. The whispering grows. as louder as more voices join in. It starts out as just a ripple, but then the noise grows like a rushing stream in heavy rain. I can't make out the words, but the tones and inflections become clearer. It sounds like men, women, children, people of all ages. There are so many of them, maybe even more than us. Ah, Liam says, and hands the joint back to me. Okay, you're officially uncut off.

Gotta admit, that's a little weird. Relief briefly floods through me. At least I'm not the only one hearing it. The volume of the voices grows louder, but the words remain indistinct. Glancing over Liam's shoulder, I see that it's more than just him and me. The voices have grown louder than the party, and everyone looks around as they encircle us. Someone cuts the music off,

and the conversations from our own party merge with the alien voice. What is it? Is someone out there? Ah man, it's the cops. We're busted! Whoa, whoa, whoa! Liam mounts the steps and climbs to the top of the slide. He waves his arms until everyone is looking at him. No mention of the po-po, please. They're like Voldemort, speak their name, and they shall appear.

I frown up at him. That wasn't why they didn't say his name. Can it, nerd? Liam grins at me, and our banter elicits a tiny ripple of chuckles throughout the party. Look, boys and girls, we're not the only ones graduating soon. And we're not the only ones looking for a place to celebrate away from parents and do-gooting snitches. Probably some other school is out in Bitterroot partying their asses off. But our asses are way bigger than theirs, and please keep in mind, I am an ass man.

So, I'm saying that as a compliment. They're trying to drown out our good asses. time. I say we do the same. Let's out yell, out dance, and most importantly, out drink these motherfuckers. The applause explodes from the party and drowns out the whispers. That's Liam for you. Jock, Homecoming King, and Future President of the United States. Or, at the very least, a future cult leader. He bats flips off the slide and lands with just the hint of a stumble. The cheering grows even louder as he brandishes his fists in a victory pose. Future Olympic gymnast, too, I think, as the music is flipped back on and the party resumes.

Liam wraps a beefy arm around my shoulder. Do you think I'll be this popular in college, too? His mood has even put my mind at ease, and a chuckle involuntarily escapes my lips. No, not even close. Shit. He takes the joint for a quick puff. before he passes it back to me. Oh, well, at least I'll still be pretty.

The music is now blaring. Beneath the raging bass and rushed lyrics, I can feel the whispered voices grow louder. Inhaling deeply on the joint, I try to push the unease to the back of my mind. Yet the longer it goes on, the louder the voices grow, permeating through the music.

I freeze and swallow. The voices aren't just the, louder. Their words are still indistinct, but there's a current of anger building with the music. The swaying bodies of the makeshift dance floor crumple as several students were not to the ground. A girl's nose erupts in a spray of blood before she spirals into a pyramid of beer cans. Another senior doubles over, spewing vomit. I think that it's just too much alcohol until his knee suddenly jerks out of place, and he falls on the ground screaming.

Hey, hey, hey! Liam screams and steps forward. But something makes me grab him by the shoulder. He jerks out of my grip. No mosh pits! Liam's wrong. The partygoers aren't attacking each other. I watch another girl, a loner like me, standing by herself.

She falls face forward, as if invisible legs kick her feet out from under her. Her face rises and falls against a nearby rock, growing bloodier and more broken. Someone makes a mad dash towards the cars, but his body jerks and his neck twists back. I see the shocked expression on his face before his body drops to the ground. Holy shit, Liam whispers. What the? His face jerks suddenly toward me, spraying blood across my face and immediately dowsing the joint. I reach a hand out to him, but some unseen force grips my fingers.

A scream rips from my throat as my fingers start to twist back with a loud paw. one by one. The pain stops after three fingers when I'm tackled and brought down hard into the dirt. I struggle at first, mistaking Liam's attempt to save me as another attack. Up the slide! He screams, forcing me to my feet and shoving me forward. Hurry! Get to some high ground! I scramble up the slide's ladder, the rusted metal cutting into my hands, but I ignore it and push on. The slide bucks back for a moment as I reach the top, and Liam screams. Turning around, I see him on the ground as his body convulses. Something cracks in his chest, and his limbs twist in odd angles.

His shirt darkens with blood which pools and stains his leather jacket. The side of his head mushes as something caves into it, the top of his head bulging with another crack. Liam! I bend my knees to leap down, but something slams against my jaw. Falling backward, I land on the slide, my body skidding against the aged metal. The next moment I'm in the air before something slams into the back of my head and everything goes black. I open my eyes, unaware of how much time has passed. My headaches and my fingers are swollen and twisted as if they've been caught in a machine.

I sit up slowly and look around. The voices have stopped, but everyone is gone. Liam? The memory of his bloodied body springs me to my feet. Liam! The only sound around me is my echoes. I look around and realize something is wrong. There's no color, like someone's taken an eraser to the world and rubbed them out of existence.

Looking up toward the sky, I see the sun, but everything is in shades of black and white. I close my eyes and fight to stay calm against my rising panic. Someone must have come. Everyone must have been taken to the hospital, and I got overlooked or something. But then why does the world look like a twilight zone rerun? Working past the panic, I remember hitting my head pretty hard. Enough to knock me out. Probably a concussion or some minor brain damage that knocked me colorblind.

I hiked down the small trail to where we all parked the night before. The cars are still here, but that makes sense. If everyone was rushed to the hospital, their parents were probably there. Getting the cars home would be at the bottom of their priorities. I find Liam's pickup truck. The keys hidden away in the driver's side SunVisor. The truck revs with life, and I feel relieved before putting it in gear. I start heading back into town.

Our little town was never bustling, but now it's completely deserted. My house, Liam's, the school, the hospital, everywhere I drive, there's no sign of life. Panic fills my heart, building steadily as I move to the next town and then the next. All of them are abandoned. No, not abandoned. Like they've never been lived in. As I stop and refill Liam's tank multiple times, the hours go by. At every abandoned gas station, I try to ignore the third. thought of atomic bombs. That doesn't make any sense. If there had been an attack, why wasn't I vaporized along with everyone else? My heart leaps into my throat as I approach the Canadian border.

I stop at the crossing, but there are no guards anywhere. Frustrated and afraid, I slam my foot on the accelerator and blare the horn as Liam's truck rips through the gate. Then my eyes widened, and I slam on the brakes and skid to a stop, just in a night. I slam my time. My legs give out from under me as I fumble out of the truck. I lie there panting for a long moment, but rise to my feet. Closing my eyes, I rubbed them together, but the color still doesn't return, and the void is still there. There is nothing beyond the border, just a black hole in space, stretching as far as I can see. I slump and fall into my knees. Where the hell am I?

The only answer I receive are my words echoing back from the void. SCP 437 is a decommissioned playground slide located in Bitterroot National Forest, Ravalli County, Montana. SCP 4377 possesses a height of approximately 3.04 meters and a length of 9.14 meters. SCP 4377 is entirely unpainted, with rust present on the majority of its surface. The words Fun Slide have been written in lowercase English on the surface of SCP 437 with what has been identified as black permanent marker. Following exposure to SCP 437, adolescent or adult individuals will experience a lingering feeling akin to being watched by an imperceptible entity. Continued exposure leads to individuals experiencing multiple voices,

commonly within the age range of 10 to 65 years old, originating from unknown sources. The intensity and tone of these voices will progressively increase in hostility until the individuals exposed will experience pain similar to being physically assaulted by multiple persons. This effect will continue until the individual has died via either blunt force trauma and or blood loss. It is important to note that no sapient life aside from the subject

is present during any level of exposure. If an individual decides to slide down SCP 4370, SCP 4370 will function as a non-anomalous playground slide until the individual reaches ground level, where they will enter SCP 4370-1 if the sliding process has not been interrupted by an outside force. Interruption of the sliding process may prevent SCP 4370's anomalous effect from manifesting. SCP 437-1 appears to be a carbon copy of the U.S. state of Montana in the year 2019,

with a primary exception being that any and all matter within SCP 4370-1 fails to reflect any colored light on the visible spectrum, along with the fact that all sapient life has gone extinct. Vegetation exists and functions normally within SCP 437-1, though no sign of sapient life has been observed as of exploration 437-1. It is important to note that any matter outside of the state of Montana does not exist within SCP 437-1, and is instead replaced entirely by empty dark space.

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