The SCP Experience - The Prophetic Caesar Winters | SCP-6032

Episode Date: February 24, 2023

SCP Foundation NEUTRALIZED class object, SCP-6032: The Prophetic Caesar Winters This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-6032, 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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We're going to die out here, Shannon says. I roll my eyes. I love her, but she doesn't do well in stressful situations. Her idea of helping is what I like to call bitching and moaning. really the opposite of helping we'll be fine i tell her trudging up the steep snow-covered road did you just roll your eyes at me she asks no i say thinking how does she always know the snow is coming down in sheets now we left the car about a mile back when it was clear we couldn't get up the mountain without four-wheel drive we're both bundled up in heavy coats gloves and hats

but it's still downright frigid out here. We trudge on for a hundred more yards. The only sound is our boots crunching in the snow. I don't know why you don't listen to me, Shannon says. She just can't help herself. I'm sorry, I say. You were right. We didn't beat the storm, but we'll be okay.

There are cabins all along here. Someone will let us crash for the night. And they say tomorrow will be warmer. The roads will clear by noon. What if there's no one home? Then we'll break in, okay? It's fine. I know most of these people.

Oh, do you? You have some kind of secret life up here that I don't know about? I bite my tongue and keep going, scanning the sides of the road for driveways. Things look different under all the snow, but I'm pretty sure we're coming up on Gary Dissler's cabin. After a few more minutes of walking, I see it up on the left.

A divot between two lines of trees. Dissler's driveway. Look, I say, stopping and pointing. Gary Dissler's cabin is up there. He lives there full time now that he's retired. He'll let us stay the night. Shannon's cheeks and nose are red with cold. Her blue eyes are icy as she stares at me

from under her pink and purple knit cap. She hugs herself, shivering. Is he the weird conspiracy nut? She asks. "'Babe,' I say. "'Beggers and choosers and all that, right?' "'You're right,' she says. "'I'm sorry. Let's go. I'm freezing.'

A quarter mile later, we're approaching Dissler's cabin. When I notice an extra vehicle parked behind old Gary's truck, it's a late model SUV from what I can see under the snow. He must have company, I think, starting to worry there won't be room for us. Maybe he can give us a ride up to the cabin in his truck, I muttered to myself. We walk up onto his front porch, getting under the awning and stomping our feet to clear ourselves of accumulated snow. With one gloved hand, I bang on the door just a second before it opens. A young woman, early 20s maybe, stands there.

She has black hair and a pixie haircut, with long bangs dyed slime green. She's wearing sunglasses and sporting a piercing in her left nostril. Her clothes are various shades of black. Hello, she says. Come in. Thanks, I say, stepping aside to let Shannon go in first. It's warm in the little living room because there's a roaring fire in the fireplace. Sitting on the couch and front of the fireplace are two men I've never seen before.

One's black and the other is white. They're both wearing sunglasses. and smiling up at us. Hey, I say, looking around for Gary. The main room of the cabin is large, encompassing the living room on the left, and the dining room and kitchen on the right. Directly ahead from the front door,

there's a hallway leading to a couple of bedrooms. Shannon heads directly over to the fireplace and sits down in a wide recliner, adjacent to the couch, pulling off her gloves and thrusting her hands toward the fire. I remove my own gloves, my backpack, and then my hat. Is Gary here? I ask the green-haired girl. Yes, but he's not feeling well, she says.

He's in his bedroom resting. I nod. Who are you? Is grandkid or something? The girl laughs like a socialite from the 50s. Oh, goodness, no. We're just friends of Gary's, that's all. We're all taking a little trip as soon as this weather lets up.

I'm about to ask further questions when the white guy from the couch speaks up, asking, Who are you two? I turned toward him. I'm Hudson, I say. And that's my wife, Shannon. We have a cabin up here, but we timed it a little off and couldn't get up the road. And you are... I'm Charles, the white guy says.

This is Josiah, and that's Willow. Nice to meet you, Shannon says. The fact that I can't see their eyes bothers me. The girl, Willow, wearing sunglasses inside as a fashion thing, kind of makes sense. It's dumb, but it makes sense. The other two guys, no, I don't like it. Both Charles and Josiah are dressed like normal guys. Charles wears a sweater and slacks, while Josiah wears a hoodie and jeans.

So why the sunglasses? It's certainly not bright inside. Well, I was hoping to see if Gary could give us a lift up to our cabin. I say. Mind have I talked to him? Oh, no, Willow says. I'm afraid that's not a good idea. He's sick, like I said. Besides, it's not a good idea for anyone to go out there in this weather.

Why don't you two stay here for the night? There's plenty of room, and we can talk about Caesar. I look at her, not trying to hide my confusion. The Roman emperor, I ask. She laughs again. I'm guessing you've never listened to Caesar Winters, have you? No, I reply. Never heard of him. Oh man, Josiah says, speaking for the first time.

His reality sync program is truth. We should listen to it right now. Yes, Willow and Charles say at the same time. No, I don't think so, I say. I'd really like to speak with Gary. I start toward the back of the cabin, but Josiah moves. moves up from the couch and blocks the way. If you won't respect Gary's wishes, I'm afraid you'll have to leave, he says. Babe, what are you doing? Shannon asks. Against Gary's wishes? I say, ignoring Shannon.

I thought it was your wishes. Gary told us expressly that he didn't want to be disturbed, Willow says behind me. I studied Josiah's face, but I can't see his eyes. Something strange is going on here. Gary has never been the most sociable guy, although he does listen to strange conspiracy theory radio programs on occasion. Still, I can't see him inviting these people up here for some sort of trip. He's quite the recluse.

But getting kicked out of his cabin isn't a good idea, so I decide to bide my time. Fine, I say. I'll respect Gary's wishes. But can I at least use the bathroom? Of course, Josiah says. I'll show you the way. I know the way, I tell him. I insist.

Josiah escorts me down the hall to the bathroom, which is right next to Gary's room. His door is closed, and I pause before stepping into the bathroom, listening for any sign that Gary's even alive. I hear nothing before Josiah says, Do you need to use the bathroom or not? I step in and shut the door in the man's face.

Of course, I don't really have to relieve me. myself. So I stare into the mirror, gathering my thoughts. When I come out, Josiah is still there, still wearing his sunglasses. He gestures for me to walk ahead of him back down the hall. And it's coming here, Willow says as I walk into the living room, Josiah trailing me. The green-haired girl is talking to Shannon in an urgent, excited tone. It's massive, bigger than the moon, bigger than the earth even. Uh-huh. Shannon says, clearly humoring the girl. And what will happen when it comes?

The girl giggles. The end of all life. Well, for everyone but us anyway. Oh, you don't say, Shannon utters. An apocalyptic prophecy from a radio talk show host, huh? Who would have thought? She's laying it on a little thick, and it isn't lost on Willow. The girl huffs.

You don't believe me? She says. Well, I think it's time we listen to some of Caesar Winter's show. She gets up and heads toward an old radio sitting on a side table in the corner of the room. I had enough time to think that freezing to death may be preferable to listening to some crackpot conspiracy theorist for the next several hours. But just as Willow steps to the radio, the power in the cabin goes out. Suddenly, the primary source of light in the place is the fire. The combination of the storm and the sun going down severely limits the amount of sunlight coming through the windows.

Oh, darn, Shannon says sarcastically. Willow turns and glares at her through the gloom. Good thing, there's plenty of firewood, I say, looking at the stack next to the fireplace. I saw more out on the porch under the awning. We all gather by the fire as the cold from outside creeps slowly into the cabin. Willow, Josiah, and Charles all drone on about the radio show and the prophecy. According to them, some massive being is approaching from the other side of the moon, bent on destroying all life on Earth.

I guess they don't know that the moon and the Earth are constantly moving, so there is no one other side of the moon. None of it makes any sense. Of course, most crackpot conspiracy theories don't. They're sorely lacking in facts and logic, and this one is no different. Pretty soon, I grow tired enough of their incessant chatter, that I dig into my backpack for the foam earplugs I use to drown out Shannon's snoring. I tell them I'm going to try to get some sleep,

but the truth is, I just don't want to listen to them anymore. I want to wait until they fall asleep so I can check on Gary. As I lie back in the chair, pressed up against Shannon, I can hear only the bass tones of voices. I can't make out any words. Hours pass like this. Despite my best efforts, I actually doze a little. Sometime in the early morning hours,

I come out of my light sleep to find that the living room is silent. Opening my eyes, I see that Willow, Josiah, and Charles are all asleep on the couch. The fire has died down to a dull glow, and the room is chilly. Shannon sleeps next to me in the chair, and I slowly get up, trying not to wake anyone. Now's my chance to check on Gary. As I move, I look out the windows and see that the storm has passed. Moonlight bounces off the snow, giving the whole landscape an eerie yet peaceful glow.

I pull my earplugs out absently, holding them in my left hand as I move out of the living room and down the hall. As I come to Gary's closed bedroom door, I hear. hear retching from inside. Brow furrowed. I reached down and grab the doorknob. It's unlocked. I opened the door to see Gary sitting hunched over on the floor next to his bed, dressed in nothing but off-white underwear.

His back is to me, his spine, pressing up against his pale, papery skin. He wretches as though he's trying to throw something up. Gary, I whisper. His head whips around. I can't help but flinch at the sight before me. Gary's wide eyes are black, except for a small, sparkling constellation near their center. But that's not the strangest part. His neck bulges underneath his chin, as if something huge is caught in his throat. He wretches again, and the thing in his throat moves up an inch or two.

Cartilage and bone cracked, like weak branches laden with snow. He opens his bounce wide, and it keeps opening. His jaw dislocates in a symphony of tearing flesh as the thing moves up into the back of his mouth. More cracking erupts as the thing pushes out, bending his teeth from the inside out. Blood oozes, skin stretches and tears. Even in the dim light of the room, I can see what it is, what the thing is in his too wide mouth. It's a speaker grate, similar to the ones out in the living room, on the radio. Holy God, I say. A high-pitched sound pierces the air, coming from the speaker in Gary's mouth. I scream out, quickly shoving the earplugs back into my ears as I run back to the living room.

Willow and Josiah already have a struggling shannon held down in the chair. She screams for help. Charles lunges at me as soon as I step into the room. I managed to get my hands up, knocking off his glasses as he grabs at me. His black eyes sparkle with tiny points of light. I yell, punching him in the face. It doesn't seem to phase him. His hands clutch at my clothes, limiting my movement.

The terrible, high-pitched noise is still coming from the back room, but it's dull, thanks to my earplugs. Shannon suddenly stopped screaming. Her face is frozen in a terrified rictus, but she just sits in the chair, staring blankly up at the ceiling. Willow and Josiah let her go and walk over toward me, removing their sunglasses now that the jig is up. Willow reaches for my earplugs, but I kick her away, suddenly understanding why Shannon has stopped fighting. That noise, it's that noise. Using every bit of energy I have, I shove Charles backward and slam him into the wall. The impact loosens his grip on me, and I break free.

As I'm running for the door, Willow reaches out and trips me. I go down hard right next to the front door, but I'm quickly scrambling up again. I yank the door open, just before something hard cracks me on the back of the head. My legs go rubbery, and I stumble out onto the porch, before collapsing onto my back. Josiah steps out, holding a piece of firewood in his hand. The last thing I note before passing out

is the way his eyes match the spill of stars in the sky. The sound of crunching snow comes to my ears. My teeth chatter. The back of my head is wet. Opening my eyes, I see the tops of trees looming above me, framing a brilliantly bright moon in the sky directly overhead. My arms are spayed out over the sky,

my head because I'm being dragged through the snow. Moving my head hurts, but I do. Looking down the length of my body to see that Josiah and Charles are dragging me along with the help of a plastic sled. They each have one of my legs, but my body is in the sled, making the job easier on them. My earplugs are gone. I mumble, trying to form words that turn to gibberish on my tongue. Something happens high above me. Something not right. Something very wrong. Charles and Josiah pause, looking up. It's happening, Josiah says. We need to hurry. Caesar Winters is waiting. I follow their gaze as they resume walking, dragging me. A massive tentacle sweeps around from the left side of the moon. The scale of it, making it

appear to move slowly. Then another one comes from the other side. As a massive tentacle sweeps around from the left side, as if to hug the celestial body. Then there's a third, and a fourth. I can see huge plumes of dust spewing up from where the tentacles slam into the chalky surface. The tentacles tighten on the moon, causing it to crack apart like an egg in a fist. The tentacles pull back as the pieces float away

like a super slow-motion explosion. And what they reveal behind, coming straight at the earth, sends a blade of pure terror directly into my heart. Somewhere up ahead, a high-pitched noise pierces the night air. SCP-6032 is the designation for a model HF12 Vintage RICO audio amplifier. Despite lacking the tools necessary for radio transmission, SCP 6032 broadcasts an auditory cognito-hazard in the form of a show called The Reality Sink,

hosted by Caesar Winters. Whether Winters is the source of the cognito-hazard or merely utilizing SCP-6032, to amplify its effects is unknown. The audiocognito-hazard broadcast from SCP 6032 has a 100% success rate in converting those who actively listen to it for 60 seconds into instances of SCP 62-1. Noise cancelling devices have proven effective in preventing infection. However, there is no known method of eliminating SCP-6032 contaminants from the body. Infected individuals will have their pupils replaced by a substance resembling a cluster of lights.

Despite the apparent lack of pupils, instances are not visually impaired in any capacity. The substance typically manifests three minutes following SCP-6032 infection. Instances show complete loyalty to Caesar Winters and will behave in accordance with his wishes, even when doing so would be detrimental to their well-being. Two weeks after infection, a radio speaker grate similar to those found on non-anomalous sound amplifiers will manifest out of pre-existing organic material within the instance's body. The speaker will then ascend through the individual's intestinal tract until it reaches the throat. At this point, the speaker will increase in size until it emerges from the throat.

The bone structure will shatter to accommodate this. The speaker will continue to grow until it replaces the head. SCP-32-1 instances do not experience pain during this event and remain ambulatory afterward. Instances will attempt to relocate to Winters' current location in an event called Migration by Foundation researchers. Due to Winter's nomadic behavioral patterns, migration occurs frequently. Current migration patterns indicate that Winters is located somewhere in the Catskill Mountains in New York State. Lazang surgellied, Puisance-molyne for 15 minutes

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