The SCP Experience - The Halloween to End the World (Part 1) | SCP-6531

Episode Date: October 28, 2024

SCP Foundation KETER class object, SCP-6531 This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6531 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Want to listen ad-free? Try it FREE for 7 days here: patreon.com/TheSCPExperience Author: Matt D. * * * 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 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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$1 to a responsibility The conditions apply. I stood on the sidewalk, the familiar weight of my backpack, dragging my shoulders down. Closing my eyes, I reveled in the chilly breeze that whipped fallen leaves down the street. I tried to think of nothing but the sensations I was feeling. The woody, earthy smell of fall. The scratchy noise of dry leaves skittering along the street. The faint warmth of the late October sunshine on my face.

I was in no-her. hurry to get home from school, even though it was Friday, and tomorrow was Halloween. Lately, I didn't want to go home much at all. The place was suffocating, depressing. It no longer felt like home at all. It hadn't for a while. It was just a house now, a house I shared with two strangers. I heard a car approaching from behind, and I immediately opened my eyes and turned, ready to dodge a piece of trash or a half-eaten burger pelted from the passenger window. From my crouch, I watched as the car drove by, stirring leaves in its wake. Nothing this time. I breathed out, trying to relax. Maybe the assholes in town had finally

grown tired of taking the sins of the father out on the sun. Resuming my walk home, I was about to cross dark hollow road when I glanced right and spotted the two newest arrivals to our little town. They were a few years younger than me in seventh and eighth grade, but it was a small town, and everyone knew when a new family moved here. The brother and sister, who were also apparently on their way home from school, had stopped to stare at the creepy old witch house. They whispered to each other as they stared up at the house. Their hands wrapped around the black wrought iron fence. I fought a smile as I walked up to them. They saw me coming and suddenly looked embarrassed, turning to resume their journey home. Hey, it's okay, I said, putting my hands up. I'm not going

to rag on you guys for looking at the witch house. It's a pretty scary one, isn't it? The older of the two, the boy, tried to ignore me, but his little sister, The sister immediately turned and said, It's not haunted, and I don't believe in witches. I moved closer and looked up at the house, seeing a curtain fall back into place as a figure inside moved from a downstairs window. The house didn't really fit the bill of a haunted house from a children's story or a horror movie. It was well cared for.

None of the windows were broken. The roof had all its shingles, and there were no spiderwebs visible. But it was a tall Victorian, painted maroon with black trim. And, I had to admit, the place had a vibe about it, a creepy vibe, especially around Halloween. Who told you it was haunted? I asked, turning back to the pair. The boy was now reluctantly engaged, standing behind his little sister and looking at me with wary blue eyes. Everyone at school? The girl said.

They said the two witches. live there, but there's no such thing. You're right, I said. Those kids at school are just having a little fun with you. You're the new kids, after all. I wouldn't worry. I looked back up at the house and let my voice trail off as I stared at it, suddenly transfixed. I kept staring.

My mouth dropped open in a silent scream. Nice try, the boy said. You're not scaring us. I whispered, barely moving my mouth. Pretty lame, the girl said, but I could hear fear in her voice. My hand seemed to move on its own as I reached out and unclasped the gate. It opened with a high-pitched screech, and I found myself walking up to the door. The two kids fell silent behind me.

I walked up stiffly and stopped at the front door. My head moved jerkily as I looked over my shoulder at the slack-jawed kids. my face a mask of terror. The door to the house opened as if on its own. My head whipped to face forward, and I stepped stiffly into the house as though something was making me do it. The door shut behind me.

As soon as I heard it click closed, I turned around to see Charlene Petty standing there, grinning at me. In her mid-forties, Charlene looked like a healthy and happy middle-aged woman. She had strawberry blonde hair tied into a single long braid down her back. She wore a light sweatshirt, colorful leggings, and thick socks. We both gathered at the windows flanking the front door, one on each side,

and peered out from behind the curtains. The two kids were still standing there, but they were talking excitedly, never taking their eyes off the house. After a few moments of fearful deliberation, they both bolted down the street, looking back over their shoulders every few steps. This caused the boy to trip on a crack in the sidewalk, but he recovered quickly and continued his terrified flight. Charlene and I cracked up, laughing our lungs out. Quit that racket! A woman shouted from upstairs. Charlene's sister, Francis, had never been one for jokes, or laughter at all, as far as I could tell. We quieted down, but kept giggling. How did you know what I was going for, I asked. It wasn't hard to figure out, Charlene said. As soon as I saw that goofy look on

your face and the way you walked through the gate, I knew. That couldn't have gone better if we'd planned it, I said, catching my breath. Those poor kids, she said, still giggling. They'll be fine. I'll stop by their house on the way home. They moved in just up the street from me. Speaking of which, Do you need anything done this weekend? I'm free. Charlene cocked an eyebrow. Tomorrow's Halloween, she said. You're volunteering to do work on my house?

On Halloween? I smiled. I'm too old for trick-or-treating, but I do have plans, just not until after sundown. Oh, well, that works out well, because Halloween is the busiest day of the year for Francis and I. Now it was my turn to lift an eyebrow. Only mine came up in confusion instead of disbelief.

We have a bunch of witchy stuff to do, Charlene said by way of explanation. That's what all the kids say we are, right? Witches, if they only knew the truth. She winked at me. I chuckled nervously. So what do you need done? We were talking about getting those gutter cards up, remember? Charlene asked.

Think you can handle that? I nodded. Definitely. I helped my dad do it on our house a couple of years ago. And just like that, my mood turned sour at the mention of my dad. I shoved a hand through my unkempt hair, messing it up even more. Charlene sensed it. Want something to eat? I could use some company. Francis is in one of her moods.

Sure, I said, trying to get my father out of my head. I followed Charlene into the sitting room where she liked to read. where I'd first seen her looking through the curtains and hatched the plan. Although I'd only known her, and to a lesser extent her sister for about a year, Charlene felt like a favorite aunt to me. Sometimes I thought that she was a better mom to me than my own mother, but that wasn't fair at all. My dad leaving, it hit my mom very hard, and things hadn't been the same since. A relationship had started when I knocked on her door and asked if she needed any housework done for minimum wage. But since then, we'd become friendly, at least as friendly as a high

school kid and a middle-aged woman can get, I suppose. We're both pop culture aficionados, and we'd like to discuss the latest books, movies, and shows. So that's what we did while we snacked on apple bread and candy corn. I finally left after the sun went down, telling Charlene that I would see her tomorrow morning to start on the gutter guards. I didn't know it would be the last time I ever saw her alive. RBC Training Ground has discovered potential in over 20,000 Canadian athletes and counting. Your story could be next. If you've got the drive, they'll help you find your path to the Olympics.

Let's see what you've got. Sign up for free at rbc trainingground.ca. My house was completely dark when I got home, but the front door was unlocked. Even in a town as small as ours, it wasn't smart to leave the door unlocked. For such a small town, we seemed to have a higher than average rate of break-ins and violent crimes. I stepped into the dark entryway, locked the door, and kicked my shoes off. Mom? There was no answer.

I figured she was either still at work or at the bar. I almost called my brother's name, but just the thought of him had my blood boiling. We hadn't talked in about a week, although Caden had tried texting me and calling me a friend. few times. I'd ignored them all and done my best to avoid him while at home. Since Charlene had fed me, I headed upstairs to my room where I would likely stay until I had my nighttime snack around 11, right before going to bed. Cadin's door was closed, and I moved quickly past it, afraid he would come out and try to talk to me. I opened my door and shouted in surprise at the dark figure sitting on my bed.

Jesus! I said, as Caden stood up and showed his palms to me. I come in peace, man, he said. At 19, Caden was the man of the house. But I was about ten times more responsible than him. He was much bigger than me, and he was bullheaded, just like our mom. He wore distressed skinny jeans, an aqua blue polo shirt, and matching sneakers. Get out of my room, I said, flipping the lights on and tossing my back. back on the bed. You're still pissed? I rounded on him.

Still pissed? Are you kidding me? How could I not be pissed at you? When mom and I need you the most, you're stealing money from her closet? Have you told her about it yet? Slow it down, Jay. I've been trying to talk to you about this for the last week, but you keep ignoring me,

forcing me to sit in the dark to wait for you to come home. Are you going to let me explain myself? Or are you going to keep on acting like a little kid, thinking you know everything that? there is to know? I scoffed. Right. Now that you've had a week to get your story straight, you want to explain to me why you were stealing from your own mother. Just tell me this. Did you tell Mom you stole from her? It's not like that. That's what I thought. So don't come to me until you've told Mom. I don't want to hear... Jalen? Damn it, listen to me. I haven't told

mom because she knows. She already knows. I froze, mouth half open, and stared at my Big Brother. If you just give me a chance to talk, I could tell you what's up. Mom asked me to keep you in the dark for your protection, but she also didn't think you'd come home early from school and catch me in the act. I shook my head, trying to get my mind around this. The hell are you talking about? Just sit down and let me talk to you for a second, Caden said.

Please. Sighing, I sat down on my bed. Caden sat down a few feet away. Okay, bear with me here, and I'll tell you what I was doing with the money. It has to do with Lassarovich. The mere mention of the factory where my dad worked as an accountant was enough to put a bad taste in my mouth. But I kept it shut and listened. I have it on good authority that there are still thousands of masks in there, Kaden said.

Completely finished, ready to ship out the door. Lasarevich was the town's biggest employer. If it could be cast in a mold, the company made it, but they specialized in making realistic Halloween masks, the kinds that sell for a hundred bucks a pop. Six months ago, on a day just like any other, our father never came home from work. When my mom called the factory, they said he'd never shown up.

And they also mentioned that the police might be paying us a visit soon. As the next few days unfolded, My father, who was nowhere to be found, was accused of embezzling nearly two million dollars from the company, funneling the money to offshore accounts, and then skipping out to enjoy his riches without his family. At first, none of us wanted to believe it. My dad had never been a saint, but I also didn't think he hated us enough to ditch us like that. And I didn't think he had it in him to steal two million dollars from his employer. But as the forensic accountants dove into the case, all signs seemed to point to my father.

Law enforcement said he was spotted in Indonesia, but that was the last they'd seen of him. Lasarevich soon folded, declaring bankruptcy. Soon, everyone who had worked for the company turned their ire on my family. We became pariahs. Sometimes we found threatening letters in our mailbox, or we were. windows broken by bricks or awful things spray painted on our house. And sometimes, we got pelted from moving cars. By the time October rolled around, the worst of it was over,

although we still weren't liked at all. Our presence in the town was grudgingly accepted, mostly because it was clear we were struggling to stay afloat after losing Dad's income. And he sure as hell wasn't sending us any of his stolen money. But the warehouse, not a half mile from our house, was a constant reminder that our father chose money over us, and that he screwed over half the town in the process. As my brother and I sat in my room, six months after his disappearance, there was still an arrest warrant out on him. Okay, so what? I said.

There are masks sitting in the factory. What does that have to do with you stealing money for mom? I don't think Dad stole that money, Caden said, leaning towards. me, eyes feverish. I snorted derisively. Of course he did. What are you talking about? Think about it. No one has heard from the two owners since they filed for bankruptcy. They just dropped off the map. Yeah, I would too if one of my employees had made a fool out of me like that, I said. Caden shook his head. No, I think they pinned the whole thing on Dad and walked away Scott Free with the money in their bank accounts. Otherwise, why wouldn't they try to sell off the rest of their inventory. I don't know, I said. Maybe they're trying to sell the stuff off

but haven't found a buyer. Or maybe it's an insurance thing. And they're waiting for a payout before they can do anything with the stuff. There could be a hundred reasons. Kaden shook his head again. I don't think so, but it doesn't matter. I'm going to get those masks and I'm going to sell them so we can finally move out of this goddamn town. I still don't see what this has to do with stealing mom's money. I told you, Mom knows. It was her idea. She's the one who told me about the owner skipping down and about the masks. I dropped my head into my hands. Oh man, you know Mom is drunk half the time, right? It's not enough for her husband to be a criminal. Now she wants to turn her son into a criminal too. I'm going tomorrow night, Kaden said.

The money is to pay off the security guard. I've already talked to him. I've got it all. I've got it all figured out, but I need your help to get this done. I brought my head up and looked at my brother, seeing that he was serious. This is insane. I'm not stealing from the company our dad already wiped out. This won't work without you. My buddy already backed out, and I need a second pair of hands. Please, Jalen, don't you want to get out of this town for good? Not like this, I said. Now get out of my room before I call the cops and tell them what you're planning.

Kaden's eyes went buggy. You wouldn't. Just get out! I screamed. Kaden slunk out, and I slammed the door behind him. I sank to the floor, wondering why everyone in my family had gone insane, spoke to the sound of sirens, thinking that the police were coming to arrest my brother and mother.

But as the confusion of sleep fell away, I realized that the sirens weren't coming to my house. grabbing my phone, I saw that it was just after midnight, officially Halloween. I went to my bedroom window and looked out as the sirens cut off. The window faced my backyard, but I could just see the orange glow of a massive blaze reflected off the low clouds. Someone's house was on fire one street over. I tried to picture what house was there.

My stomach hardened, and I stepped back from the window, right arm coming up to grab the back of my neck. The word, no, became lodged in my throat as I hurriedly pulled some sweatpants and a sweatshirt on. I found my slip-on house shoes and stepped into them without bothering to put socks on. After rushing outside, I ran down to the end of my block, took a left, and then another one. As soon as I turned the corner into dark hollow road, I knew my fears had been right. The petty house was engulfed in flames. The newly arrived firefighters already had two Hoses sprang at the thing, but the water wasn't doing anything but keeping the blaze from spreading. As I rushed up to the nearest crowd of bystanders, I searched for any sign of Charlene.

All I could think of was walking up next to her and saying something like, I guess you won't be needing those gutter guards after all, huh? It was just the thing to make her smile, to lighten the mood for just a moment while she watched her house burn. But I didn't see her. or her sister Francis, anywhere in the crowd of bystanders. Over on the other side of the house, beyond the firefighters, stood another crowd. Surely she was over there.

I jogged across the street to the other sidewalk and passed behind the fire truck, approaching the other crowd, scanning for a familiar face. She wasn't there. Neither was Francis. They went somewhere, I told myself. Ran some errands. I said, I don't think so. I looked at the house, staring at the window

through which I'd glimpsed Charlene hours earlier. The glass was gone. Flames and black smoke rolled through the window. But for just a moment, I thought I saw a silhouette there, in the shape of Charlene. Then the silhouette changed, and Charlene stood there in the window, her skin sizzling, eyeballs melting down her cheeks.

She raised one char broiled arm, and pointed a finger at me that was little more than bone and chalky black carbon. I took an involuntary step back, then another, my gaze fixed on her. My knees shook as a creature of scaly black fear crawled into my throat and made its home there, tearing up my esophagus. Finally, I whipped my head to the left, looking at the nearest firefighter to see if he saw the woman in the window. He simply worked his hose as he had been since I arrived.

I looked back at the house, but Charlene was gone. There was no woman in the window. But that fear stayed in my throat as I stumbled home, head spinning, and feet numb with desperation. I stumbled back to my bedroom, slammed the door, and collapsed under the bed. That fear scurried back down into my gut. It sat heavily there as a restless sleep took me in its thorny clutches. It was dark outside when I woke up, which was strange. I looked at my phone, which said it was only 11 in the morning.

I gazed out my window, seeing a curtain of dense, dark clouds rolling in over our town. It was so dark, it might well have been night time. I sat there on the edge of my bed in a strange stupor, just staring out the window. The smell of smoke brought me slowly out of it, as I recalled what happened to the Petty House last night. As I grabbed my phone and stood up, I glanced at the screen, seeing that it was nearly one in the afternoon. Two hours had passed while I was sitting on my bed, staring out the window. I struggled to make sense of this, knowing something was wrong. But a haze as dark as the clouds outside seemed to have settled on my mind.

Then the stench of house fire smoke came back. Coughing and still struggling against that dark haze, I moved to my bedroom door. still dressed from my midnight run. I wanted to get down to the TV and turn on the news. Maybe there was something about the fire. I opened the door and stepped out into the dark hallway, pausing in mid-turn as I sensed someone standing behind me in the hall, near my mom's room.

Surprised you're awake, I said without turning, thinking it was my mom, who usually slept until late afternoon on her days off. I didn't want to see her haggard face or her bleary eyes, or the haunted look she carried around when she wasn't numb with alcohol. She gave no answer. I could just see her out of the corner of my eye. She was little more than a dark blur at the edge of my vision. The smell of scorching flesh hit me, and I grimaced, thinking I needed to change my clothes.

If smells were made of particles, then I wondered how much of what I was smelling was Charlene Petty. I recalled seeing her burning figure in the window as she pointed at me. but I quickly dismissed it as a grief-induced vision. I still didn't know for sure if she and her sister had been in the house when it went up in flames. Did you hear anything about the Petty's? I asked. Still no answer. She stood perfectly still. I sighed, resigned to the fact that my mom wanted me to look at her before she would answer my questions. I turned my head and gasped.

Charlene Petty stood at the end of the hall. just as I had seen her last night. She was charred to a crisp, her hair burned off, and her eyes melting down her cheeks. But it was as if she was still burning. I could hear her flesh crackling, even though I couldn't see any flames.

The skin of her left cheek split, looking like the surface of an active volcano. Boiling blood poured briefly out of the new split, sizzling and steaming as it streamed down her face. On some instinct from childhood, I called my brother's name. Kaden! Kaden!

I wasn't even sure he was home. Not at first. But a moment after my second call, I heard movement from his room. I still had my eyes fixed on the figure when I heard his door open. He stepped into the hall behind me, and I waited to see if I was crazy,

if I was hallucinating this whole thing. For a long moment, there was only silence in the hall, except the crackling of Charlene's skin. Then Caden spoke, his voice thick with groggy confusion. What the fuck? I turned my head to look at my brother, seeing his eyes widen and his face grow ashen as I did. I whipped my head back to see Charlene standing right next to me.

I could feel the heat coming off her, singeing my hair. Before I could react, her right hand shot up, and she grabbed my throat. Caden moved next to me, screaming for her to let me go. It did no good. She whipped her left hand up and grabbed Caden by the neck. We struggled in her impossibly strong grasp, and I felt my neck burning from her fingers. She leaned toward us, mouth dropping open,

and she breathed smoke out at us. The smoke snaked into our mouths, forcing its way down our throats. I felt my lungs burn momentarily. Then a strange numbness came over me, and I wondered if this was what people felt when they died. I stopped struggling. And so did Caden.

The smoke filled my lungs until it felt as if they would burst. Then Charlene was gone, and we were suddenly free. I dropped to my knees while Caden stumbled and bumped into the wall. I inhaled and then coughed, but no smoke came out of my lungs. The burning sensation on my neck where she'd grabbed me quickly faded, as did the sense of fullness in my lungs. And with it, the dark haze in my mind dissipated. allowing clear thought to come to the fore.

Caden got his bearings and rushed over to me, grabbing me up from the floor. The two of us stumbled down the stairs together and out the front door. We stopped at the foot of the porch, turning to look back at the house. Caden gasped, his voice high with barely contained panic. I shook my head, looking through the open front door for any sign of Charlene.

Did you hear about the fire? I asked, throat just barely scratchy. I heard sirens around midnight, Kaden said. But I wasn't about to get out of bed to investigate. The Betty House, I said. The witch house? They're not witches. I snapped.

But now I wasn't so sure. Wait, Kaden said. You're saying that was one of the Petty Sisters up there? I nodded. Charlene. Kaden shook his head. This is a prank, right? That was one of your friends in a costume or something right?

Right? Oh, yeah, I said. You know that one friend of mine? Tom Savini. He's a Hollywood special effects whiz. He was just doing me a favor so I could scare the shit out of my brother because—why? Caden ignored my sarcasm. His head shifting as he looked beyond our house.

Look at that! He said, pointing. I followed his finger and saw a slowly swirling vortex of coal-black clouds in the sky nearby. The clouds around it lightened, but not by the sky. but not by much. It was the reason everything looked dark. That's directly over the petty house. Or what's left of it?

I said. No way. Caden said. No fucking way. Let's go see. I said. Only realizing then that I had no shoes on. Caden turned and studied me for a long moment.

Do you know what's happening here? I shook my head. No, but it can't be a coincidence. Last night, the petty house burned down, and today all kinds of weird shit is happening. You seem to be taking this all in stride, Caden said. After your loving but flawed father suddenly dips out on you, your mom goes into an alcoholic downward spiral, and your brother turns to crime, there's not much more that can surprise you. Right, Caden said doubtfully.

Let's get our shoes and some jackets. It's freezing out here. Even before we stepped foot off our property. I knew something was wrong. The town was too quiet. Normally, on any other Saturday, there would be people out and about, working on their yards or running errands

or walking their dogs. But as we walked to the end of the block, we saw no one else out on the streets, but we saw plenty of people peering out at us from their homes. Curtains twitched, blinds parted, pale faces pressed up against windows. But the strangest part of all, was that no one had their lights on. They were all standing in the dark, peering out at us,

even though it was plenty dark enough outside to need inside lights. Something's not right, Caden said as we turned the corner, headed for dark hollow road. You think? I said. I don't like this. We should go home. I want to see the house, I said. See what's left of it. You can go home if you want. Caden shook his head and kept me. pace with me. I was grateful for his presence, although I was still too pissed to admit it. I thought about how he hadn't run away when he saw Charlene. He could have easily bolted down the stairs. Instead, when she grabbed me, he came up and tried to stop her. I glanced at my older brother while we walked down the silent street, shoes crunching leaves, and a cold wind

ripping through our clothes. Being abandoned by dad had been hard on all of us, but Caden had never really shown it. We'd never discussed it much, and I realized as we walked, anytime I'd tried to bring it up, usually by bad-mouthing our old man, Caden always refused to join in. He was suffering in his own way from our situation. I'd just been too busy wallowing in my own self-pity to consider his feelings. That wasn't fair. He was a good brother. He'd always been a good brother. And whatever he was planning on doing, I knew he was doing it for us. Christ! Caden said, stopping as we turned the corner and brought the petty house into view down the street. I'd been right. The dark clouds circled slowly over the skeletal remains of the house.

I moved closer to it, stopping after a few feet to turn and look at Caden. I'll be right back. Stay here. Caden snapped out of his trance and looked at me. No way! He said, walking up. We continued on. The firefighters were all gone, but there was caution tape around the house. We stopped on the sidewalk in front of it and stared at the half-collapsed structure.

The second floor had fallen onto the first. The whole structure was little more than a jumble of burnt wood. But as we stared at the place and at the clouds swirling above it, movement caught my eye. I looked over at the house next door, to our right, and saw a man and woman coming out. They were dressed in costumes, although it seemed a little early for that. The man was dressed as a zombie,

with a torn and bloody suit and makeup to make his face pale. The woman appeared as an old-fashioned witch. with a heavy black dress, a pointy black hat, and a broom. They stared at us as they walked stiffly down their steps and moved toward us. Other doors at the other houses opened, and more people came out. All of them adults, and all of them dressed in various costumes. Caden grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the street. We spun around, seeing people coming from every direction.

I think we need to go home, Caden said. Get mom and get gone. Yeah, let's go. We darted back the way we'd come. Both of us running as fast as we could as the wind kicked up leaves around us. The people continued to angle toward us, but they didn't run.

We dodged around the ones who'd got in our paths, giving them a wide berth. Pretty soon, we were home. The door shut and locked as we huffed for breath. Mom? Caden called. You home? There was no answer.

So I went through the kitchen and ducked into the garage. Her car's gone, I said. Shit. What do we do? I moved back into the house, locking the door to the garage as I went. Caden stood at the living room window, looking out front. They didn't follow us, he said. There's nobody out there now.

So what do we do? I asked. Call the police? And tell them what? That people are acting weird? that there's a vortex of clouds in the sky above the house where two witches were rumored to live?