The SCP Experience - The Lie of Salvation | SCP-3935

Episode Date: May 29, 2023

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-3935: The Lie of Salvation 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-3935 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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Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home. From Binge All Episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. Back to myself, breaking my gaze from the gently lapping waves of the indoor pool. Did you hear that? I asked Paul, who's standing next to me. Hear what, Rob? I've been standing here for a minute trying to get your attention.

But you've just been staring into the pool. What gives? You okay? I'm fine, I say. Just thought I heard someone whispering to me. The light brown mustache on Paul's upper lip twitches. From the bottom of the pool? He asks.

Yeah, no. I don't know. Buddy, I'm starting to think we should get away from this high school. Paul says, half laughing. You're not the first one to be acting weird. Is the chlorine too? strong for you? What year is it? Who's president? I'm fine, I say. It's okay. No, seriously, Paul says. Answer the questions. You don't look so good, Rob. I roll my eyes. It's the year of our

Lord, 1976. Gerald Ford is president of these United States of America. Happy? Not about that pardoning bastard Ford being president, but yeah, I guess so. Let's catch up to the others before Wilson has a hissy fit. I look around, seeing that we're alone by the pool. The last thing I remember, there were at least a dozen of us. The vice principal was leading us to where they discovered the structural damage, and that was when I heard something. Paul leads the way, and I follow one through a door and pass the room that houses the large pump for the pool. We go through another door and down a flight of stairs into the high school's basement, where we run into Lynn Clay. Where the hell have you guys been? Clay says, pushing up his glasses with one knuckle.

Wilson's about to blow a gasket. Oh, relax. Ball says, we're coming. I don't want to be down here any longer than I have to. Clay says, this place gives me the creeps. Paul and I share a look, and I get a sudden flash of memory. Only, it's not memory. Not really. I didn't see a small, black, demon-like figure at the bottom of the pool, did I? If not, then why does it suddenly feel like I did? We move through another door and down yet another flight of stairs. How many basements does this school have? Paul asks.

At the bottom of the stairs, we emerge in a small room made of cracking concrete. It's empty of furniture, but the vice principal, Wilson, and the rest of our crew stand impatiently near the corner of the room. Although we wouldn't normally travel with so many people, we were on our way back from another job, And Wilson figured we should all see the damage if we're going to be tasked with fixing it. So there are nearly a dozen of us down here now. Nice of you to join us, Wilson says in his irritating monotone.

Sorry, boss, Paul says. I thought I saw a crack in the pool up there. You ought to get that fixed, VP. Yes, well, it seems the crack appeared around the time one of my custodial staff found this. The vice principal says, gesturing at the gap near the corner of the room. Part of the wall has collapsed, along with a good chunk of the floor, revealing a jagged black hole big enough for a man to fit through. This is the whole reason we're here, to see the extent of the damage and generate a quote for fixing it. I step over and look into the gap, seeing nothing but darkness. Paul steps up, pulling his flashlight out and shining down it.

Jesus, he says, I can't even see where this thing ends. It's like a sloping tunnel. Looking over his shoulder, see what he means. While the initial drop is a good seven feet straight down, the hard-packed dirt and clay slopes down at an angle after that, going much further than the flashlight beam can reach. Could there be a cave system here? Wilson asks. Anything's possible, I say, standing and stepping over to Wilson.

But I didn't see anything about it on the building plans I looked at today. Then again, I didn't see anything about a sub-basement on the plans either. Oh shit! Clay yells. There's a thudding sound from behind me. I spin around to find that Paul has disappeared. I know without being told that he fell into the hole. I can hear him tumbling down the slope. The sounds growing ever fainter until they stop altogether. What happened? I ask. You just slipped. Clay says. Just slipped and fell in. I get on my knees in front of the hole. I shout down to see if Paul's okay. I'm okay. He yells. Little banged up is all.

Can you get back up? Hold on now. Wilson says, stepping forward. Why don't you look around while you're down there? He shouts. See what we're dealing with here. There's a good minute of silence before Paul answers. Yeah, I'll look around.

Might as well since I'm down here. In the meantime, why don't you guys make yourselves useful and get some rope in a body belt? Be careful. Clay shouts down. Don't fall into any. more holes. I have my flashlight.

Paul shouts. I'll be back in 10 minutes or so to give my report. I'm going to go get some rope from my truck, I say, standing up. I'll be back. Heading back the way we came, I make my way through the empty school. It's Saturday, and there seems to be no staff members here other than the VP. But as I walk through the corridors, I get a strange feeling I'm being watched. In my peripheral vision, pale faces press up against the

frosted glass windows of the classroom doors. But every time I turn to look at them, there's only the white-tinged glass, no faces. I rush outside to one of the work trucks we brought, grabbing some items out of it before heading back toward the school. But as I approached the same door I came out of, I stopped walking and blink and confusion. The entire school seems to have raised off its foundation several inches. I look at the gap between the walkway and the bottom of the school. Seeing something small and black with too many faces in the darkness there. Its features keep changing, and as they do, it becomes impossible for me to remember what they looked like.

My mind only recalls vague generalizations, but my fear is no less potent in the moment. As I watch, the school settles back down to its original position, obscuring the ever-changing faces. I'm tempted to jump into the truck and get as far away from this place as possible, but I can't leave my friend Paul. He wouldn't leave me. I wouldn't even entertain the idea, so I can't leave him down there. I opened the door to the school with a shaking hand and walk inside.

By the time I reached the basement again, 15 minutes have passed since I left. The other men are still gathered near the hole. Has he come back yet? I ask. Tossing several lengths of safety rope down, Wilson simply shakes his head. We've been calling for him.

Clay says. There's no answer. I'm going down, I say. Me too. Clay says, stepping over and pushing his glasses up. Four other members of our crew volunteer, making a total of six. We quickly make the preparations, securing the two ropes and putting the body belts on. I also brought more flashlights and a first aid kit.

About 25 minutes after we last heard from Paul, we start down into the hole. We have to go down one at a time, going. backward and looking over our shoulders. I'm the first to reach the flat ground at the bottom of the roughly 80-foot incline. I take the body belt off and shout for them to drag it back up so one of the other guys can use it. I only had two in the truck. Then I turn and shine my flashlight around. Paul? You hear? There's no answer. And I stop my flashlight's movement as the beam reveals a man-made structure. It's a stone archway, a tunnel of rock beyond it. Stepping closer to it, I see that there are words etched in the archway. I read them aloud. The way below winds deeper,

longer, unspeakable its patterns laid, the lost forever damned to wander this thing a quiet madness made. Clay comes up behind me, having just got down, and looks at the archway. What the heck? He says. What did you say about this place giving you the creeps? I ask. That was the school I was talking about, he says. This place is ten times worse. Why the heck is there an arch down here? And what are those words mean?

You don't have to come, I tell him. You can stay right here and listen, just in case. Clay thinks this over for a minute before saying, Yeah, yeah, that's a good idea. Someone needs to stay here. I nod. And as I wait for the others to get down here, I think about what I saw when I was outside the school.

But it seems like a vivid dream or a hallucination. It does not seem solid, like my other short-term memories. Did the school really levitate? Did I really see some kind of multi-faced creature staring at me from under it? No, there's something else at work here. A gas leak, maybe. Or a government experiment gone wrong. When the other four guys are down and ready,

I lead the way, stepping under the way. stepping under the arch like it's nothing. Like it's perfectly normal for the thing to be here, buried deep underground. The four guys, Hampton, Shelburne, Mures, and Rooker all follow. The rock walls get steadily narrower as we continue on. Soon, we have to turn sideways and sidestep our way through. And as we're going through a particularly narrow portion of the passage, I hear a frightened scream from the back of the line.

Rooker! Dropping the first aid kit I've been carrying, I climb up onto a couple of outcroppings and shine my flashlight back, seeing what all the commotion is about. The walls are moving. Perez shouts. They're fucking moving. And I see that he's right.

Rooker at the very back of the line is pinned between two rock walls. He's crying out while Merez pulls on his arm, trying to get him free. It's no use. Rooker's screams grow more intense and are soon joined by the sound of his ribs breaking as the walls close in on him. Move! I shout, letting myself drop down off my perch. We need to move!

The other three men shuffle along after me as fast as they can. Rooker screams chase us as we go. The narrow tunnel opens up into a small cavern, and the four of us get through without being crushed. But when we look back at the tunnel, there's nothing but a solid rock wall there. There's no time to consider this because Hampton suddenly sinks into the stone floor up to his knees.

No! He says, pure dismay in his voice. He tries to pull his feet out. but it's as if they're fused to the stone. So he sticks a hand out toward us. Help me! He says. Keep me out of here!

None of us make a move to help him, not at first. And he sinks deeper. Now he's up to his hips and he's screaming for us to help him. Coming to my senses, I rush forward and grab his hand. But he sinks deeper. It's as if something is pulling him into the solid stone under our feet. When he's pulled again, his head goes under, and I yank my hand away. This way!

Shelburne shouts. I turn to see him and Mores heading for a gap in the stone wall that wasn't there before. They disappear into the gap, panic, nipping at their heels. The glow from their flashlight beams fade slowly.

But before it disappears completely, the same small, black demon-like figure I think I saw at the bottom of the pool scampers out of the darkness and stops. It looks back at me before moving off after Merez and Shelburne. Guys, wait! I shout after them,

but they keep going. Looking around, I realize I don't have much of a choice. There's no other way out of here. So I go through the gap, following the other two men. I haven't traveled far when I see them up ahead, standing in what looks like another cavern. But as I get up close and look over their shoulders, I see it's more than just a cavern.

They're on a platform in front of a stone bridge spanning a massive underground canyon. Across the canyon, on the other side of the bridge is the high school. Only it's not quite right. The geometry is all wrong. The walls are not at right angles to each other, even though it appears they are at a glance. There are multiple entrances stacked on top of each other,

and I can see the entire back at the school, even though I'm looking at the front. The sides are somehow visible, too. Shall we go across? Shelburne asks. I have no answer. Looking at the school is making my head hurt. Suddenly, floating above the bridge,

nine figures appear. They're clearly women, wearing dirty white gowns, long white hair covering their faces. Their arms and legs hang limply, and their heads are tilted down, as though they're hanging from invisible ropes around their necks. Let's go back, Merez whispers. As soon as the words leave his mouth, the women's heads all snap toward us, the movement momentarily giving us a glimpse of their faces. Before I can even comprehend their hideous, bloated, bug-eyed faces, they start to spasm.

Their arms and legs snap into impossible positions, seemingly at random. Merez turns to run, only to find that the gap we came through is gone. He flies up into the air, floating near the women, who turn their attention to him. Their limbs are still jerking into sickening positions, but they seem unfazed by it. However, when the same happens to Marez, his screams ring out, echoing endlessly along the canyon. Shelburne panics and runs across the bridge toward the strange school. Halfway across, he's pulled into the air just like Mores. But instead of his limbs breaking in all directions,

Shelburne becomes like the school. His front and back are visible at the same time. His organs are somehow inside and outside his body all at once. And he screams out of seemingly every orifice. Knowing what I must do, I step to the edge of the platform, my toes sticking out over the vertical drop, down into its end of the surface, down into impenetrable darkness. Falling to my death is vastly preferable

to whatever the hell those women are doing to Marez and Shelburne. I look up at the nine women who still seem to be busy with my two co-workers. But when one of them snaps her head toward me, I do what I must. I step off the platform to plunge silently into the darkness. But instead of falling for more than a foot or two, I find myself stepping through the carved archway,

stumbling and falling to my knees with a sudden change in gravity. Clay races over and helps me up. Rob, Rob, are you okay? Getting to my feet, I shake my head. Go. I tell them. Go now.

But they're dead. They're all dead, Clay. We get into the body belts and have the guys up top help us to the school's sub-basement. I'm bombarded with questions as I pull the body belt off, dumping it on the concrete floor. Get out of here! Is all I tell them before I rush out of the building to do what I should have done when I first had the thought. I get into my truck and drive, and I don't stop until I'm far away from the town of Salvation, Indiana. SCP 3935 is an extratemporal, extraspatial, non-Euclidean space, located beneath the Salvation High School in Salvation, Indiana.

While SCP 3935 is the designation for the specific anomaly mentioned above, it is believed that the anomaly currently affects the entire town of salvation. as individuals have reported anomalous events taking place outside of SCP 3935 as well. The full extent of these effects is not known. SCP 3935 is reachable only through a collapsed section of sub-basement beneath the Salvation High School, near the northwest corner of the building, below the school's pool. It is believed that SCP 3935 was the source of anomalous activity that took place in Salvation High School in the mid-1970. which was investigated and contained by members of the Federal Bureau of Investigation Unusual Incidence Unit before the Foundation became involved.

The access point to SCP 3935 proper exists roughly 82 feet below the collapsed section of basement in a small antechamber containing a stone arch. The original creator of the arch and how it became buried so far underground in the first place are the subjects of investigation. Puitance medium for 15 minutes. We're like it's the hour dojo

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