The SCP Experience - The Ghost in the Mirror | SCP-4175

Episode Date: June 13, 2023

SCP Foundation DECOMMISSIONED class object, SCP-4175: The Ghost in the Mirror This podcast is sponsored by BetterHelp. Go to betterhelp.com/scp today to get 10% off your first month! This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-4175 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Matt Doggett Facebook Page: https://www.facebook.com/MatthewDoggettAuthor/ Website/Newsletter sign up: matthewdoggettauthor.com New Book Releases: https://www.amazon.com/Matthew-G-Doggett/e/B08FD5378Z 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

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depop minimum, of 10 dollars, Veillet jewell to face in a responsible. The conditions apply. I sat on the bed. Legs propped on a pillow and a Felix Blackwell book in hand. The sound of Melinda's showering came from the bathroom. I never understood how she could shower twice a day. I barely had enough patience to shower once a day.

It seemed like a waste of time, energy and water if I wasn't truly stinky or sweaty. It was only our second night in the house, and I still wasn't used to the smell of the place. I knew that our smell would eventually take over, but until that happened, we were stuck smelling the people who lived in the place before us. Not that it was a bad smell, just different. It was our first house.

We moved from an apartment into this small two-bedroom with the plan of starting a family sometime in the not-too-distant future. I would have liked to get a larger home, but we just couldn't afford it. Maybe in a few years. Melinda screamed from the bathroom, jerking me upright on the bed. Kevin, you bastard! She shouted. What?

I shouted back. What did I do? She didn't answer, but I heard the shower curtain rings shift along the rod. Then the water shut off. A moment later, Melinda opened the bathroom door and looked out at me. Her hair dripping on the carpet and a towel clutched around her with one hand. You didn't do that? She asked.

Are you okay? You look scared to death. You didn't do that? She asked again. Her big brown eyes boring into me. Do what, babe? I've been sitting here reading. Alinda swallowed.

Something hit the shower curtain while I was in there. I thought it was you trying to scare me. I shook my head. You sure it wasn't the air conditioner kicking on or something? No. No, it was a hit. Like someone punched the curtain in toward me. I set my book aside and got up

the bed, unsure what to do or say. What she said happened wasn't possible. Unless maybe something fell. I wrapped her in a hug, her wet hair soaking my shirt. Then I moved her aside and stepped into the bathroom. At first, I looked around for something that could have fallen, maybe a chunk of drywall from the ceiling or a towel rack that was loose and swung down. But there was nothing out of place. Then I looked at the corner of the bathroom near the toilet, and my heart lurched in my chest. There was a single word written in what looked like blood on the off-white tiles. Dead. I turned to look at Melinda, already knowing the answer to the question I was about to ask. You didn't do this? Still looking frightened. She had to move further into the bathroom to see what I was

pointing at. When she saw the word, she made a small, frightened sound. That wasn't there when I got out of the shower, she said. I swear I would have seen it. I looked around to see if you were hiding in here somewhere. I would have seen it. Okay, I said, moving to comfort her. As I did, I glanced into the steamed-up mirror and saw something move in it, something that wasn't me or Melinda.

It was just a flash of movement. But I thought it was a person, and I thought that their face was rotting. I didn't tell Melinda about the face I saw in the mirror, mirror. It was enough to deal with the shower curtain moving on its own, and the word spelled in blood on the floor. We went to sleep that night after much discussion about what we could do. I wasn't ready to believe it was something supernatural. I thought maybe it was a prank left by the old owners of the house. But even in my stubbornness, I knew any logical explanation was a stretch. Of course, some kind of supernatural explanation was also a stretch. I didn't believe

leave in ghosts or the afterlife. But Melinda did. She wanted to get out of the house until we could talk to a specialist. I convinced her that we should stay. And we did, although neither of us got much sleep that night. The next morning, I was the first one to go into the bathroom, and I saw nothing. The blood on the floor was magically gone. Neither of us had cleaned it up. The mirror showed the reflection of the bathroom and nothing else. No rotten faces. I stood in front of it and studied myself and my surroundings. Behind me, I could see the shower bathtub combination. The shower curtain was halfway open, just as Melinda had left it.

Breathing out, I leaned down and propped my hands on either side of the sink. I'd probably gotten two hours of restful sleep. I shut my eyes, thinking about what to do, and I heard the shower curtain move, just barely. One of the rings scraped gently across the curtain rod. I opened my eyes. My guts coiled and the hairs on my body stood on end. Slowly, I raised my head and looked into the mirror. There was nothing there, but the shower curtain was moving,

like it had just been bumped. A face emerged from behind the curtain, glaring out at me with clear malice. It was the same one I'd seen the night before. A boy's face, a teenager. There were worms and insects. crawling out of the holes in his cheeks. His eyes were cloudy, and one of them pointed up into the left. He opened his mouth to scream, I thought.

And insects emerged in a flood. He wrenched the curtain aside and reached out for me. I ran. I ran out of the bathroom and through the bedroom, down the hall to the kitchen where Melinda was sipping her coffee and looking at her phone. We're leaving, I said, looking behind me down the hall. I expected to see the boy come shambling out,

insects still pouring out of his mouth, but all I saw was an empty hallway. What happened? Melinda asked. We're going now. I grabbed the car keys and Melinda's arm and pulled her out to the car. We can't go anywhere like this, Melinda said. I don't have my purse. I'm still wearing my pajamas. She was right. I didn't have my wallet. Neither of us was wearing shoes, but Melinda did have her phone in hand still.

Okay, I said, calming slightly. We need help. Who do you call? when your house is haunted. I had no idea where to start. I didn't even know what the name of that kind of profession would be. Melinda said they were called paranormal investigators. The problem soon became finding a reputable one. And it wasn't like there were a ton of choices in our town.

There were two paranormal investigators listed nearby, but neither one of them had many reviews. One, called Private Paranormal, had three reviews with an average of two stars. The other one, called Paranormal Investigators LLC, had two reviews with an average of four stars. We went with the second one. Melinda called them and requested emergency assistance. The woman on the phone said that that would cost an extra $200, but they could be there within an hour. Fine, I said, fine, let's just get this done. We stayed outside in the car until the woman showed up.

She was in her mid-30s, black with red hair and glasses. She looked more like a scientist than what I pictured in my head as a paranormal investigator. She said her name was Ava and listened as we explained to her what had happened. When we were done, she was silent, staring at the house. Okay, she said after a few moments. Let's go inside. Whoa, what? Melinda said.

We all have to go in there? I thought it would just be you. Ava shook her head. It's important for you as the owners of the house to be a part of the house to be a part of, of this. It's clear that whatever presence is in this house has tried to communicate with you for whatever reason. That's good, but it also means you need to be there, both of you. It wants us dead, I told her. It said so on the floor. Not necessarily. Besides, it's extremely rare for a spirit to be capable of doing the living any harm, and I'll be with you to protect you.

I've done this before. Melinda and I looked at each other. We could always sell the house. I said with a wan smile. Melinda smiled weakly but shook her head. And leave this for someone else to deal with? I wouldn't feel right. If Ava thinks she can help us, it's worth a shot.

Okay, I said to Ava. Let's do it. Ava grabbed a backpack from her car, and we went inside the house. She looked around for a bit before we all went to the bedroom and stood outside the bathroom. The light was still on because I hadn't turned it off in my mad rush out earlier. Ava set her bag down and went in first. She looked around, and then she stood in the middle of the room and closed her eyes. She stayed like that for about three minutes before opening her eyes again.

Yes, she said. Yes, I can feel him in here. She waved to sin. Come on. After a moment's hesitation, Melinda and I moved into the bathroom. Ava clasped her hands and arranged us so we were all standing in front of the mirror holding hands. We formed a triangle so we could all see the mirror. Okay, shut your eyes, Ava said, and quiet your minds.

Focus on your breathing. Melinda and I did what we were told. The room was silent aside from our breathing for several minutes. Then Ava started speaking in tongues. The room grew colder, and the shower curtain started to move. Don't open your eyes. Ava said as if reading my mind. Keep them closed.

Focus on your breathing. The shower curtain continued to move, getting more and more violent, as if someone were thrashing it around in a fit. The toilet seat crashed up and down. The sink turned on and off. Melinda squeezed my hand tight, and it was all I could do to not open my eyes.

The crashing of the toilet seat and the shower curtain came to a crescendo. A scream emerged from behind us at the bathtub. And then, all at once, everything went quiet. Open your eyes and look into the mirror, Ava said. Only into the mirror. I did as I was told, peering into the mirror. At first, I only saw the three of us standing there. But then our bodies were ghostly transparent before fading away altogether.

A moment later, a man and a woman I'd never seen before came into the bathroom, carrying a teenage boy between them. The boy was thrashing. What are you doing? Mom? Dad? Neither adults said a word. They moved with the boy to the bathtub, which was full of water. And they forced him in, fully clothed. The boy shouted before his father pushed his head under the water.

He kicked his legs and flailed his arms, but the two adults kept his body under. At one point, the boy managed to grip the sides of the tub and pull his head briefly out of the water. But the father grabbed one arm and pinned it down, shoving the boy's head back. under. I watched and sickened horror as the boy thrashed in the tub for another two minutes. Then the thrashing stopped, and the boy went limp. The man and woman looked at each other for a long moment. Then they embraced each other in a frenzy, biting and licking and tugging at each other's clothes. They moved out of the bathroom, no doubt going to the bed. The boy's body floated in the tub, his eyes open, expression stuck in a rictus of terror. Aval at

go of our hands, and the vision was suddenly gone. We were standing in the bathroom again, and the tub was empty. Melinda moved to the toilet and threw up, while I leaned against the counter and looked at Ava. They killed their own son? Ava, whose face was ashen, nodded. It looks that way. Who would do? My words fell off. There was no use in seeking answers to the unfathomable. I know where they buried him, she said. He told me. He did? When?

Ava pointed to the mirror. There were bloody words printed there. Under tree, they said. The backyard. I said as Melinda got up, wiping her mouth. There's an oak back there. Ava nodded. Knowing the police wouldn't show up if we told them the truth,

we decided to say that we were doing some landscaping when we stumbled across the body. So I dug around under the tree until I found it. They hadn't even bothered to wrap him in anything. The bugs had been at him, and he looked much like I saw him in the mirror the first time. His face was rotten and holy, one eye canted awkwardly. The police came and took over. It wasn't long before they built a case and arrested the parents. Thank God for modern forensics.

Once the parents were arrested, we never saw the boy in the mirror again. We'd done just what he wanted us to do. We had helped him to rest in peace. SCP 4175 is a level one humanoid apparition, which can be viewed in the reflection of a bathroom vanity mirror. The apparition is the spectral remains of Alex Conrad, the 13-year-old victim, of premeditated homicide committed by his parents on August 30, 2014. SCP 4175 has demonstrated the ability to interact with various objects within the room in attempts to communicate with any individuals present, including the following. manipulating the curtains of the bathroom shower, activating and extinguishing the mirror's vanity lights, manifesting bloodstains on the floor tile and mirror which spell simple words.

A foundation operative posing as a paranormal investigator helped to close this case in April 2015. After the house was bought by a couple who experienced paranormal activity, the vanity mirror was transported into foundation custody through an abundance of caution.