The SCP Experience - The Living Room | SCP-002

Episode Date: October 4, 2021

SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-002: The Living Room This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-002, and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ 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

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10-8-10 and plus, 1-Depos only depose only depot only depose $1B1B1NZA, depot minimum, of 10 dollars, Veillet I've just been escorted under the effect of a strong sedative in a windowless van for what must have been the better part of the day.

Even under the influence of the drug, I could tell they'd make a lot of twists and turns. Maybe to throw off any remnant's sense of direction I might have had. But as they guided me out from the van into what looked like an abandoned warehouse, the drug was finally starting to wear off. Take him to the staging area and prepare him for SCP 002. one of the guards said. You really think this one will make it? Another one said.

Hell if I know, but it'll be good fun to watch anyway. I was still too numbed up to care about the discussion. I just idly followed them through the facility into a narrow set of dimly lit hallways. A few armed guards stood by watching as we passed. But what they were protecting, I couldn't say. Eventually the hallways led into a large room, covered in a metal framework,

and a set of heavy security doors that probably could have held back a nuclear blast. As we walked inside, I could have sworn the room started to sway back and forth, as if reality itself was morphing into something else entirely. A sensation I jotted down as a side effect of the drugs. The guards forcefully put me down in a medical chair, at which point a doctor grabbed my arm to insert an IV line. Too weak to protest, I just watched as he injected a strange red liquid into my veins.

It burned on entry, and no sooner had the drug reached my brain, before the numbness washed away. In a mere moment, I became hyper aware of my surroundings. You're going to feel a bit nervous, like your heart is punching its way through your chest. It's normal. You'll be fine. The doctor said in a non-reassuring way. He wasn't lying. My heart was racing a mile a minute, and I was suffering from tunnel vision. My eyes darted around the room in a futile attempt at finding out what I had gotten myself into and why I'd agreed to an experiment I knew nothing about. Where am I? were the first words that poured out for my mouth.

We're not in liberty to tell you that. One of the guards mumbled, but the words didn't really hit me, as something in the center of the large room had caught my eye. A massive lump of what resembled flesh was suspended ten feet up in the air, accessible only via a ladder, reaching up towards a small opening. The thing looked like an overgrown tumor, but its origin was beyond anything my fractured mind could possibly conjure up. Ah, so you finally met your mission?

A man's voice said from behind me. I turned to see a tall person starkly contrasting the guard and the doctors. He wore casual attire and a friendly smile. You must be Carl? He asked. I just nodded. I'm sure you have a lot of questions. Unfortunately, I am bound by my contract to only reveal the most necessary information. Now, what exactly did they tell you back at the base?

I thought back to the briefing. They'd been looking for volunteers to take part in what they called an environmental experiment, how one's environments affect the psyche. They said I had to go inside a special room and record SCP-002, I said. That's right, he confirmed as he nodded in the direction of the tumor. That over there, we call the living room, and we're going to need you to go inside. He explained. That's a room?

He nodded. And what exactly am I supposed to do inside? I asked. We need to know how it affects people, which is why you'll get a body cam and a radio to communicate with us while inside. You get half an hour, and then you get paid like promised. The initial ad had promised several thousand dollars, which I'd assumed to be a scam as I handed them my name and number. Worst case scenario, I thought they'd call to sell me stuff, but this was in a whole other league of terrifying. I don't know. I don't think, do I need to remind you that you

signed a contract? The man asked, his smile wavering for just a second. I glanced over at the door, wondering if I could make a run for it, but one of the guards had placed himself in the way. It's time, Carl. Just do as you're told. You'll be fine. With that, I was escorted to the fleshy lump hanging from the ceiling. They dressed me up in a body suit with a camera and microphones and ordered me to climb the ladder. With shaking hands, I followed orders, slowly ascending each step towards the mouth of the flesh. Go inside, he ordered from down below. I took a deep breath and entered the flesh. A stream of hot, rotten air filled my lungs as I walked inside,

as if the thing was breathing in my face. It stung my eyes, but I kept walking, stumbling inside as tears made it impossible to see anything. For a moment, I just stopped to rub my eyes, and when I opened them again, I realized that I had stepped into a room that looked eerily ordinary. What do you see, Carl? The man asked through the radio.

It's... The words froze in my throat. Carl, tell us what you see. It's just an ordinary room, I finally said. Looks like a cheap New York studio. It's tiny. Plain walls with a couple of lamps, a rug, television, and radio. Oh, and there's a few books.

I said as I bent down to pick them up. Each of them was written in a language I couldn't decipher, covered in cryptic symbols that didn't resemble any language on earth. Does the radio work? The man asked. I don't know. Let me test it out. I twisted and turned the knobs trying to get a signal.

But all it emitted was a mess of static. I listened for a moment, and I was just barely able to make out a faint female voice calling out numbers. 7.89. 3.71. She said. It's just numbers, I said. What else do you see? The man asked.

I glanced at a few children's toys on the ground. than the walls. They were oddly clean, plain white, with a bumpy texture. But something about them just seemed organic, as if made of the same flesh that covered the outside of the room. But then I saw something that snapped me back to attention, a window leading to the outside. An impossible feat, considering the entire outside was covered in flesh. That can't be, I said. What? He asked. There's a window here.

Are you sure? It wasn't there during the last. exploration, he said. I'm sure. I'm staring right at it. Then tell me what you see, you ordered. Only then did I realize that they should be able to see everything I was transmitting with the camera. Why were they asking me to describe anything? Can't you just see the stream? I asked. The room has a tendency to mess with electrical equipment. I need you to confirm everything we see. Despite the simple instructions, there was no way I could even begin to describe the horrors I witnessed on the other side of the window. Beyond it lay a second. flesh-bound room that mirrored the one I was standing within in the most horrific way.

It was a twisted clone full of rotting meat. In the midst of it, I could see what looked like half-digested human body parts, each seeming to correspond to the furniture that surrounded me. The room is made of human flesh, I blurted out. That's when I got a better look at the children's toys. Each of them were just painted, cut bones. The carpet was made of human hair, and the cushion on the chair was human flesh covered in skin.

I need to get out of here. I begged. Not yet. The man ordered. Fuck you, I'm leaving. I said. I turned to exit through the gaping mouth of the tumor. But in its place, I just found another wall.

The entrance I had come through had vanished. It only opened intermittently. You're trapped in there until the flesh decides to open back up. If you want to stay alive, you have no choice but to follow my orders. The man said, what the fuck is this place? Ignoring my question, he gave me another order. Sit down on the chair, he demanded. No, I refuse, I said. Then you'll never leave, he said, knowing I had no choice but to follow orders. I turned towards the chair. Its legs were made from human

bones and the cushion from flesh. Just the thought of touching it made the hairs on my back raise, but sitting on it was a whole other beast to tackle. But I was trapped and had no other choice. With my breath held, I sat down and awaited further instructions. Minutes passed, and I heard nothing from the team outside. All the while I kept staring at the wall. Then without warning, it just opened. I prepared to rush out through it, but as I attempted to stand up, I realized I was stuck to the chair.

Without even noticing the flesh of the room had fused to the underside of my leg and butt, it had dug straight through my clothes and shoes and was actively fusing with my body. Help! I called out. Thank you for your cooperation, Carl. The man said over the radio. They maintained radio silence over the next few hours as the flesh dug itself into my body. Little by little, I was being consumed by the room.

I tried calling out for help, but rescue would never come. By the time a day had passed, my entire lower body had been consumed by the flesh, and yet I could not die. At the end of the second day, my upper body was mostly entangled in the flesh. Only then did a team of researchers wearing hazmat suits entered a check on me. but they weren't there to help. No, they just needed to track the progress of my digestion. One of them mumbled something about the average time until consumption was four days,

but even then, death was an uncertain concept. At the point of this interview, I've lost all bodily functions. The flesh is forcing me to breathe, feeding me nutrients, and keeping me alive. Soon I'll lose my ability to speak, at which point the foundation will find another subject to trap inside here. I do wonder though, what piece of furniture will be constructed for my mangled flesh, and when that happens, I pray to finally die. SCP-002 resembles a tumorous, fleshy growth with a volume of roughly 60 meters cubed. An iron valve hatch on one side leads to its interior, which appears to be a standard, low-rent apartment of modest size. One wall of the room possesses a single window, though no such opening is visible from the exterior.

The room contains furniture which, upon close examination, appears to be sculpted bone, woven hair, and various other biological substances produced by the human body. All matter tested thus far show independent or fragmented DNA sequences for each object in the room. Thanks for listening. To get notified every time a new episode is released, be sure to click the follow or subscribe button and turn on all notifications.