The SCP Experience - The Seventh Bride | SCP-231

Episode Date: October 19, 2022

SCP Foundation KETER class object, SCP-231: The Seventh Bride This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-231, 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

The thick, uncomfortably tight blindfold is itchy against the skin of my temples. I wonder how much longer I'll have to wear it. How much longer I'll have to be in the dark like this? We started out from Site 19 in some kind of car or van. That was nearly four hours ago. I think, anyway. I can only guess. After maybe 50 minutes, the vehicle stopped.

And I was helped out. I could hear the gentle sloshing of a large body of water. I went up a ramp and onto a boat. After a few minutes, the boat started moving, rocking gently as it took me closer to my destination. Once the boat stopped, I was loaded onto a train. I could tell by the sound and the way it swayed as we went on our way. Then I got onto an airplane.

Then some kind of vehicle that I couldn't quite place. We went down several flights of stairs to get to that one. So maybe it was in a tunnel, but it didn't feel like a train. After one more transfer, they loaded me into this helicopter. Now, as the itchy blindfold becomes nearly unbearable, I can feel us descending. We land, and I feel hands on my blindfold. But before it comes off, a man's voice speaks into my ear over the sound of the slowing rotors. I'm going to take this off now and put a helmet on you.

Just stay still. Okay, I say, I don't have much of a choice. The blindfold comes off, then a helmet is slid over my head. It feels like a motorcycle helmet, the kind that covers your entire head. Okay, the voice says. You can get out now. They'll give you the full rundown in there. But you're not to take off the helmet unless you're alone in your private quarters.

understand. I nod, opening my eyes. I can see through the visor-like front of the helmet. The man sitting next to me and the small helicopter wears a black ski mask. I can't see the pilot or co-pilot, because there's an opaque divider separating the front and back of the helicopter. Say something, the man says. Tell me the fake name they gave you.

That was one thing they did tell me after all the psychological tests. no real names. My name is Agent Dell, I say. My own voice sounds strange, and I realize the helmet is modifying it somehow, making it deeper and giving it a mechanical tinge. Good, the man says. Time to go.

He reaches across and opens the door to my right. I step out into the night, ducking under the still spinning rotors. There's a sprawling single-story concrete building about 50 yards away. The wall straight ahead contains a metal door, which opens as I approach. I step into a windowless concrete room. A man dressed in blue coveralls, identical to the ones I'm wearing, stands two yards away from me.

He wears a helmet, just like mine, obscuring his face. His cloth name tag reads Dr. Wilcom. I'm sure it's an assumed name, just like Agent Dell. Welcome, Agent Dell, the man says in his modified voice. I'm Dr. Welcome. He gestures with one hand at the person I feel standing behind me, the one who opened the door. This is D-89654. I turn as a short man steps around and gives me a smile.

I'm a little surprised to see he's not wearing a helmet. He can't be older than 25. He's thin and has an earnest, open face under strawberry blonde hair. His orange jumpsuit is worn, like it has been washed a thousand times. The giant black number two on the front is faded but still visible. There's a strange kind of necklace around his neck, half hidden by the collar of his jumpsuit. I'm Owen, he says, extending a hand.

I take his hand and shake it. Maybe it's his real name. If he's not required to wear a helmet, his name probably doesn't matter. He's D-class, after all. Dr. Wilcom steps toward the door leading deeper into the building. I'll let D-89 show you to your post. We have a procedure coming up soon.

You don't mind getting to work, do you? Before I can answer, Wilcom turns to leave the concrete room through the metal door. Owen steps forward as the doctor leaves. Don't mind the doctor, he says. He's just a little edgy. Everyone gets that way when their tour is almost up. Besides, he doesn't shake hands with anyone. What's the point, right?

You can't really get to know anyone here. If you did, they'd have to kill you. Owen laughs as he says this, but there's nothing funny about it. I know it's true. Owen leads me through the building. As we walk, I notice he has a number two on the back of his jumpsuit, as well as the front. I'm curious, but I assume everything will become clear soon. He first shows me the door to my private quarters, telling me there's no time to go in now.

Then we get to my post. We neither see nor hear anyone else while. walking through the halls, just closed doors and silence. I used the code they gave me back at Site 19 to open the door. As I step inside, Owen smiles and waves. I won't see you, but you'll see me soon, he says, then turns to leave. I don't know what he's talking about. I don't know what my job is. I don't know much of anything. Only that the battery of psychological testing I had to go through was like nothing I've ever experienced in my four years with the foundation. The door closes automatically, and I turn to look at my post. It's a small,

windowless concrete room with a metal desk built into the far wall. There's an office chair in the front of the desk. On top of the metal surface is a bank of monitors. All of them are blank. There's a keyboard on the desk, along with another, smaller control panel with a clear plastic case over it. The door opens behind me, and I turn to see Dr. Wilk, and I turn to see Dr. Wilker, come step inside. We'll be starting procedure 110 Montauk soon. I'll stay in here with you this one time to give you the rundown. Let's start by turning on the monitor, shall we? I step aside as the doctor hits enter on the keyboard. The screens flicker. You've done observation duty before, correct? He asks. You know the basics, right? Yes, but I don't know what that does,

I say, pointing at the small secondary keypad. Yes, well, I'll tell you all. I'll tell you all. about that here in a moment. What you need to know is that the moment you step into this room, your helmet starts transmitting everything you say. My helmet does the same. Right now, other agents are listening to our conversation. This is important, because if you see anything out of the ordinary during the procedure, you need to say something. What does out of the ordinary mean? I ask. I have no idea what this procedure is supposed to look like. How am I supposed to tell if it's going well or not? Relax, Del.

That's why I'm here for this one. After you see it once, you'll be able to tell. Believe me. Besides, we have other agents monitoring this as well. We've found that redundancy is the best course for the procedure. The monitors all come to life, each one's showing a different angle of the same room. It looks like a hospital room, maybe a surgical suite. There's a hospital bed in the middle with a young woman in it.

She looks to be 18 or 19. Her skin is pale. Her hair black and damp. Her facial expression is that if someone doped up on sedatives. Droving eyelids, partially open mouth, slack muscles. Bien-a-board of Vy-A-Rae. Embarquered and profite. Embarqued and relax.

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and we still don't know the rules. Don't miss what the movie blog calls something you need to watch. Saving those children is how we all go home. Binge all episodes exclusively on Paramount Plus. The bulge of her stomach presses against her white and blue gown. She's pregnant. This is SCP 231-7, Dr. Wilcom says.

Don't be fooled by her seemingly innocent appearance. She could be the cause of an end-of-the-world scenario. And if we don't do our jobs, she will be. On one of the monitors, I see the door to the girls' room open. six D-class personnel file through, including Owen, who pushes a cart adorned with an array of strange-looking instruments. Here, sit down, the doctor says, gesturing for me to take a seat. As soon as I'm situated, welcome steps to my side and gestures at the small key bad.

You have six D-class personnel, each of them wearing an explosive collar, and you have six buttons, each with a number corresponding to one. one of the D-class men. Suddenly, the large twos on Owen's jumpsuit makes sense. Each of the other D-class men has his own number on the front and back of his jumpsuit, one through six. But I'm still wrestling with the implications. So if I press the number three, his collar will explode?

That's correct, Wilcombe says. But you only press them if it looks as if they're trying to help her escape. Or, if they're trying to escape themselves, obviously. Okay, I say, keeping a motion out of my voice. I can do that. I don't know what kind of person they think I am, but the tests I went through cleared me for this. Still, it doesn't mean I have to like it.

I'd rather not blow someone's head off with an explosive collar, especially not Owen. Seems like a nice guy. Here we go, Wilcombe says, leaning down next to me to watch the monitors. Get ready. It's not pretty. The six men surround the young woman. Four of them grab strange tools off the rolling table.

As they start in on her, my stomach cramps and revulsion. Despite her drugged stupor, the girl screams out in pain. Is this normal? I ask. This is the procedure? I'll tell you if they do anything wrong or out of the ordinary, Wilcom says. Her screams continue as the men work in rabid frenzy. Wilcom reaches forward and hits a button on the keyboard to mute the sound. It helps a little, but I still have to watch the horrible procedure.

There's a lot of blood. I don't understand how the girl is still alive. They're almost done, Wilcom says. Just keep watching. Suddenly, a loud alarm sounds from within my helmet. Wilcom straightens up, clearly having heard the same thing in his. Warning, three of the King Spears have just been stolen from foundation containment. The voice in my helmet says,

Be prepared to take action. As the warning repeats, I turn toward Dr. Wilcom. What the fuck does that mean? I yell. Wilcom is already shaking his head. He brings a hand up and grabs my helmet, turning it back to the monitors. Keep watching. They'll do whatever they can to get her back.

The warning in my helmet stops after repeating three times, and I continue watching for several minutes. It seems that the D-Class personnel are slowing down now. whether it's because the procedure is ending or they're just getting tired. I don't know. What's that? I say, pointing at one of the monitors. What looks like a small hole is forming in the wall of the young woman's room.

Oh, fuck! Wilcom says. They're coming. The hole expands as I watch. Wilcom barks orders over his radio. The hole isn't large. Maybe the size of a beach ball. But it's not a normal hole.

The edges of it shimmer with little bolts of a little. electricity, and the blackness inside seems to suck light into it. Several of the D-class personnel have now noticed the hole. They point at it, panicking and looking up at the cameras. One of them, number five, runs and starts banging on the door. Two objects emerge from the hole. They're dark blue, bumpy and long. It's only one the creature's triangular head comes through that I realize the objects are front legs.

The creature is about the size of a large dog, but that's where the resemblance ends. Its face has no eyes and no nose that I can see. Its head is split vertically by a closed mouth with pointed teeth sticking to the left and right. As the powerful-looking rear legs emerge from the portal, the creature's vertical mouth opens up, its head splitting like a book opening, revealing rows of jagged teeth. Its long, pointed tail resembles that of a scorpion, waving in the air over its back like a snake testing the air. I see a set of long, hook-like claws. unfurl from each of its two front legs as it approaches the bed the men in blood-covered orange jumpsuit scatter I can tell they're screaming even though the sound is still muted

Wilcom reaches across and hits a button on the keyboard number one stop that thing he says number one looks up at a camera and shakes his head the creature is closing in on the young woman who's clearly unconscious now do it or we all die you understand the whole world dies if it drags her into that portal shakes his head again but steps hesitantly toward the monster the thing lunges at him its mouth clamping down on his leg then ripping away with a huge chunk of flesh one stumbles backward gripping his leg and screaming god damn it wilson screams what about the agents i say don't we have a team they're coming but we don't have any goddamn time that thing will be gone by the time

they get geared up and over there i look back at the monitors the creature is next to the bed now Number two, Wilcom says, pressing the button to transmit into the room. Stop it! Owen looks up at a camera, clearly terrified. Nearby, the creature reaches up and grips the young woman by the leg, then pulls her off the bed. Shit! Wilcom says. I call myself!

Before I realize what he means, he's out the door. His footsteps echoing down the hall. I turn back to the monitors and see Owen stepping away from the wall and toward the creature, which is now moving backward toward the portal. It's using its powerful back legs to drag the girl's dead weight with it. Owen jumps onto the creature's back, positioning his head next to the creatures. Immediately, the scorpion tail shoots down, impaling Owen through the upper back repeatedly, trying to get him off.

But he hangs on. Blood pours out of his mouth as he looks up at the camera. I feel like he's looking directly at me. I reach over and press the number two button on the small keypad. Owen's explosive collar detonates. Both their heads disappear in a cloud of gore. The headless creature goes limp, toppling to the side. Owens' headless body flops down beside it, blood seeping out of his neck. The portal in the wall closes. I sit back in the chair, mind reeling. After a minute, I watch on the monitors as the door opens and Dr. Wilcom rushes in.

He's followed shortly by a team of armored and armed agents, each with a helmet just like mine on. I remember what the emergency transmission said, something about spears being stolen. What the hell does that mean? I'm guessing the spears have something to do with the creature and the portal, but I'm almost completely in the dark. And Procedure 110 Montauk? It's brutal, disgusting, and inhuman. Why do they do that?

And how often does it have to be done to that poor girl? I shake my head, putting these questions and their associated feelings into little boxes in my mind, storing them away for now. I've done my job today. I've prevented what could have ended the entire world if the doctor is to be believed. If you ask me, that's a pretty good day at work. That is, after all, why the foundation exists and why people like me are proud to secure, contain, and protect. SCP 231-7 is a female of indeterminate age. SCPs 231-1-1-7 were retrieved following a police raid on a warehouse owned by an organization called the Children of the Scarlet King. 24 hours after the rescue, SCP 231-1 went into labor pains, giving birth three minutes later to SCP, redacted, causing a redacted event, resulting in an unacceptable number of casualties.

Foundation personnel immediately took possession of remaining SCPs 231-2 through 231-7, and, based on notebooks recovered from the cult, instituted Procedure 110 Montauk to prevent future occurrences. Procedure 110 Montauk is to be carried out at least once every 24 hours by Class D personnel. During Procedure 110 Montauk, at least one security officer with proper clearance must monitor the procedure by camera at all times. Although the sound may be turned off if the vocalizations of SCP-21-7 become too distressing. Following the procedure, all Class D personnel must return to their holding cells or explosive collars will be detonated. The Foundation has also taken possession of seven spears that could be used by the Children of the Scarlet King for nefarious purposes in direct conflict with the Foundation's mission.

These spears, with their associated rituals, can be used to summon entities known as the King. King's demons. It is believed that should all seven spears be used together. It could allow the Scarlet King into our dimension. The consequences of this would be catastrophic and should be prevented by any means necessary. Lazzang sur-joled, puissance-molyne, for 15 minutes. We're saying that's their dojo. Pre-a-jou! Vive the pleasure with Leo Jo! The casino on-line, that proposes the most recent machine-ass and the games of casino in direct. Profite of 50 tours

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