The SCP Experience - The Unreliable Oracle | SCP-1421

Episode Date: January 2, 2026

After discovering his sister’s chilling diary detailing encounters with a so-called Forest God, a grieving brother hikes into the wilderness to confront the ancient entity that drove her to madness���and finds himself face to face with something far more powerful than grief. Listen ad-free with early access + bonus stories – sign up for a 7-DAY FREE TRIAL of ⁠SCP Premium⁠. Cancel anytime. No commitment. This story is derived from ⁠The SCP Foundation Database⁠ and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0.⁠ ⁠⁠⁠⁠https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/⁠⁠⁠ * * * CONTENT DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content not limited to intense themes, strong language, and depictions of violence intended for adults. Parental guidance is strongly advised for children under the age of 18. Listener discretion is advised.  #thescpexperience #scp #scpfoundation #scpencounters #securecontainprotect #scpstories Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

It's muggy out. I feel like I'm taking in water every time I breathe, especially on the difficult, uphill portions of the hike that leave me a bit winded. Man, was this a hiking trail or a damn mountain climb? Had I overestimated my stamina? I shook my head. No, I'd trained for this. I had to see this through. My sister, Ruby, had been the athletic one in our family.

My older brother Sage was the smart one, and I was the other one, the one who's second best at everything. Maybe I was the best cook, though. Ruby made a mean batch of chocolate chip cookies. I'd felt adrift as a teenager, never fitting in, especially not at home. That feeling had faded somewhat as I'd gone through college, finding my people, and realizing that you couldn't boil a person down to just their achievements. Still, the holidays were a bit of a challenge.

A childhood of feeling inadequate didn't just go away because you made a few friends in college. I wish I hadn't been so insecure, so wrapped up in my own issues. I wish I had noticed what was happening to Ruby. Ruby's suicide came out of nowhere. It felt like one minute she was sharing photos of a recent trip to Paris with her fiancé, and the next, we were getting the call that Ruby had intentionally overdosed on codeine in the bathtub. She'd fallen unconscious and drowned. I hadn't known she'd been on pain medication, let alone opioids.

At the funeral, her fiancé had arrived in an unexplained leg cast and stared grimly at the coffin with a strange expression on his face. Anger? Confusion? I couldn't bring myself to go up to him and ask. I was too absorbed in my own pain to take on some of his. He texted my brother Sage to ask, to ask if we would take her things from the apartment they shared. He said he couldn't bear to look at them anymore.

That seemed like an odd reaction to me, but I couldn't judge. We all grieve in different ways, and I wanted to see how my sister had been living in her last few months. Sage and I arrived with way too many boxes, not knowing how many we'd need. It turned out, Ruby lived frugally and didn't have many material possessions. Even as a kid, she'd always been like that.

Her fiancé had led us into the house and then walked right out the door. Call me when you're done, he said, his face, ashen gray. My brother raised an eyebrow, but neither of us stopped him. Instead, we started putting the boxes together and throwing the stuff we thought was probably rubies into them. We kept getting sidetracked by memories and sorrow. Hey, Reed? My brother called out to me a little after we'd moved into the bedroom to box up all their clothes. What's up? I asked.

Sage had been poking through the little end table on Ruby's side at the bed that was covered in chipped white paint. She'd definitely gotten it at a yard sale. I'd stake money on it. Now he was opening a little notebook and leafing through pages, each turn of the page, seeming to echo in the quiet bedroom. I think this is a diary. He said. The entries are dated. He flipped to near the end of the notebook. Some of these are recent.

He froze. Then tossed the diary into the bag of stuff we'd decided was going to the dump. Hey, what are you doing? I want to read what she wrote. Sage Scaldon said. You really want to know what our sister was thinking the months before she killed herself? I definitely don't. I scooted over and took the diary from the bag.

I wanted to know. I had to know. You're strong, Sage said. You have a lot of willpower. I've always admired that about you. I don't think I could bear it if I found out she blamed us. If there was something we failed to do that could have changed things. Sage thinks I'm strong?

I never would have guessed. I'd always thought of him and Ruby as the successful ones. My heart swelled with pride, knowing my older brother thought highly of me. I tucked the notebook into the backpack I'd. brought with me and helped Sage finish clearing out the rest of Ruby's apartment. Despite what Sage had said, I wasn't exactly excited to dig into my sister's emotional anguish. It was weeks before I'd plucked up the courage to open the diary and begin reading. When I finally did, my heart broke. At first, there was no indication at all that she had been diagnosed or upset in any way. She seemed

like a normal, happy woman, excited about her upcoming wedding. I mean, sure. She talked about a few petty and quickly resolved arguments she had with her fiancé over invites or photographers, but overall, there was nothing in the diary to indicate she was depressed at first. In the months before her death, she'd been planning a hiking trip. Her last trip as an unmarried woman, as she called it. Now, I'd grown up with my sister, known her all of her all. She'd been, my life, I knew this hiking trip wouldn't be a simple walk across a meadow. When it came to athletics, Ruby went hard or not at all. Still, she seemed excited about it, writing in one of the later entries that she couldn't wait for her big hike. That was the last entry before the

tone and style of her writing abruptly changed. The next one was short and barely mentioned her soon-to-be husband who had dominated most of the previous pages. This new entry had been written in a shaky scrawl that I barely recognized as my sister's handwriting. I met a forest god today, it began. It was about halfway through the trail when I saw the signs of his presence. The trees were leafless, and the grasses were yellow. Flowers had single petals, if they had any at all. The steady buzz of wildlife quieted from a hum to an expectant silence.

At first, I was afraid. But that was only because I did not understand His grace. There, on a nearby cliff face, stood a tree. It was lush and beautiful, in stark contrast to the land around it. As they drew closer, I realized that there was a face in the tree. An older man's face carved right there into the bark. My knees buckled and my stomach did flips. I knew at that moment I was looking at something special.

That feeling was confirmed when the carved face's eyes opened and he spoke to me and bade me to listen. And I did. He explained that he was a God and the answer to my problems. Ruby's entries became increasingly erratic and obsessive from that point on. All she ever spoke about was this forest god. If she mentioned her fiancé at all, it was only to ridicule him as a non-believer. This went on for months. Her thoughts towards Dan getting darker and darker. All the while this, God whispered in her ear and told her to follow his teachings. What those were, I wasn't sure. Finally, she wrote something that chilled me to the core. I have to do it, the entry began.

My Lord is right. Dan is only holding me back. He's preventing me from achieving true happiness. I have to get rid of him. But even though he isn't a believer, I don't want him to suffer. in the codeine, I'll drug his whiskey. Once he's out, I'll do the deed. If I fail, this will be the last entry I write. I don't mind that, but it makes me sad to think that my God will be left alone. To prevent that, I will draw a map of where to find him. If anyone is reading this, please, go to him, bask in the glory of my God and receive his teachings. I'll be waiting for you." Beneath that horrible entry was a carefully drawn map. of the park she'd taken her hike in, with a little grid to show the distance and miles to

an X that marked the spot, where I presumed the god was, plus two series of numbers that I recognized as longitude and latitude coordinates. Ruby had always been thorough about the stuff she liked. Still, at least one mystery had been solved. Her fiancée's oddly chilly demeanor, and the cast he'd warned of the funeral. He must have fought Ruby off when she had to He attacked him before she swallowed the pills. Even though I had her own words to back up that assumption, it was hard to picture. Every sentence of the last third of Ruby's diary had been a new, horrifying revelation. I had to lie down and close my eyes after reading all of them.

It was clear, God or no God, that something had happened to her. Normally, I'd just chalk it up to a psychotic break on my sister's part, but it was hard to reconcile that, with how I saw her, my tough as now's older sister who took no shit and lived by her own ideals, it was hard to imagine her randomly going off the rails one day and trying to murder her fiancé, not that encountering some malevolent tree god made any more sense. Still, if there was something out there, a person or entity responsible for my sister dying, oh yeah, you better believe I was going to make sure they suffered just as much as she did. My fists were bald so tight. I was shaking in so much anger that my nails actually drew blood on my palms.

I was probably in denial. I probably wanted someone or something to blame. I mean, really, isn't a breakdown more plausible than magic? Still, I knew I would never feel at ease until I saw it for myself. Ruby said she met a deity and she'd even left directions. The least I could do was follow-up on it. Lazzang sur-gillet, puissance-moyane for 15 minutes. We're like

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Sonture the pleasure play-o-jo 188 and plus, 1st3 depots on Ontario. 50 tours gratuys on the machine-assau-bizabeth Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10. Veil to play in a fashion responsible. The conditions apply. I found the trail Ruby had taken in a nearby national park

and saw that it went practically vertically up a mountain. I knew that if I just ran off towards it, I was liable to hurt myself. So, over the next few months, I trained. I also didn't tell Sage. I was worried he'd want to come along. And if this tree god was real, if it could get into your head, I didn't want him anywhere near it. He had a family that needed him.

After transcribing Ruby's diary to a password-protected word document, I burned it. Better safe than sorry. After three months of intense cardio and a lot of shopping for equipment, I felt I was ready. Honestly, I was probably in the best shape of my life. Which was how I ended up in the sweltering, humid August heat, panting, like I was a dog trying to cool down. I had to be close, right? I was cresting a ridge when I noticed that the trees were suddenly starting to look as wilted as I felt. Their branches sagged. The shrubs and wildflowers looked parched. I felt a bit wobbly myself. Then I saw it. It was

unmistakable. The tree was rooted to a slight outcropping of the ridge, seeming almost like it had posed itself against the horizon for the most striking visual. Unlike the flora around it, the tree was in a majestic flourish, its leaves bright green, and blooming white flowers dotting its branches. Every time the breeze picked up, a few petals fell gently to the ground. As I walked closer, I saw that a large portion of the bark had been stripped away. Instead, there was a carved section that jutted out for the ground. from the trunk of the tree. It was an old man's face. The face bore deep wrinkles and a full

beard. Ruby hadn't been wrong about that, at least. I breathed in, then out, a deep, purifying breath. Removed from the context of my sister's death, this was a beautiful place, and the carving was striking and sudden and moving. I felt weak, and I didn't think it was solely the effect of the climb. Something about the cliffside, the tree, was siphoning my energy. I could understand why someone would feel affected by this place. But to worship the tree as a god? To go so far as to try to kill a loved one, that seemed a stretch. A breeze rustled the trees, and I heard a voice. "'Heed me, child,' it said. The voice was masculine and seemed close,

though I had heard the words more in my head than with my ears. I noticed that the face had turned to look at me, eyes open, a gentle smile on its face. You have come to me with such anger in your heart, he said. Why? My sister is dead. The face withdrew into itself, then pushed outward, a new expression on it, one of sadness. I see. You must mean Ruby.

I admired her fiery spirit. I am sorry to hear of her passing. It sounded genuine. I almost believed the voice. But I still held back. This monster had caused my sister's death. I couldn't lose sight of that. My vision blurred, but I shook my head,

clearing the momentary haze. So, you read her diaries and came to seek me out. How in the... There's no way he could know that. Was he reading my mind? No. Ruby had probably told him about the journal entry she'd been writing. Yes, I said.

For what purpose? Did you kill my sister? The tree's face restructured again, this time to an expression of surprise. Certainly not. I simply advised her on how to take control of her life. She felt passive, drifting, as if she had been accepting the things that happened to come to her, rather than reaching for what she really wanted.

Which was? I asked. Meaning. Purpose. For whatever reason, even though I knew Ruby hadn't been passive since the day she was born, I felt the truth of his words. Perhaps he was a god. My face tingled.

Why did she try to kill her fiancé? Why did she kill herself? The sad face returned. I am not all-knowing. Perhaps she felt that was the only way to take control of her life, to achieve the things she wanted. I wish it had not been so. You didn't instruct her to do anything?

There was a pause. A heavy stillness passed between us. Child, he finally answered. Do you truly believe I could? A distant, petulant part of me wanted to save us. that wasn't an answer to my question. Something else, growing within me, shoved it away. I'd been so angry and furious after Ruby had died. It had driven me for months. I'd trained, planned, and spent way too much money. I wanted answers for my sister's death, and now I had

finally found them, but they weren't the answers I had been expecting. This God or spirit appeared benevolent. I couldn't hurt him, even though a flame of rage still burned within me. My knees felt weak, so I sat down. My breath had yet to return to me. In fact, the longer I spent in the God's presence, the more tired I felt. I have counsel for you, if you would hear it. I meant to say no, but instead the word, sure, slipped out instead. It seems to me you are conflicted. You have a great anger in your heart, but you are confused as to who to apply it to. Now that you have realized that I am not your enemy.

That was true. Your brother, Sage. He and Ruby were close, were they not? She told me they spoke often, and yet he failed to notice that something was amiss. Should not your anger fall on him? He failed Ruby and your family. Is it not his fault that she has died? Sage was to blame?

My mind tried to reject the premise, but couldn't. The God's words made a sickening kind of sense. They'd always been close, shutting me out, hadn't they? Maybe it really was Sage's fault. The words came to me out of nowhere, but they'd made such a strong impression on me that I guess my heart had held on to them. You're strong, Sage said.

You have a lot of willpower. I've always admired that about you. I'm strong. That's what he said the day we cleared out Ruby's apartment. The day we found the diary. He hadn't shut me out. He loved me. And I loved him.

He wasn't to blame for Ruby's death. None of us were. Except for the monster in front of me. I saw it for what it was now. It was no God. Only a malicious entity that existed to spread suffering. The docile compliance that I'd been lulled into, cleared from my head. Something was wrong with my body. It felt numb and fuzzy, like when you

sleep on your arm for too long. The dead plants, the dying trees, it made sense. Somehow this thing absorbed life from the very ground, leaching off others to sustain its own existence. No more. I opened my bag and pulled out the canister of gasoline. What are you doing, child? The face said, contorting into an angry scowl. What I should have done the second you started talking, I said, pouring the gas all around the base of the tree and up and down the trunk, coating as much of it as possible with the liquid. This had been the plan from the beginning, what I'd been training so hard to be able to do. I dug out the matches I'd brought along and lit one, staring at the flame for a moment.

No, don't, the voice said, full of fear. Good. I flicked the match, and the tree lit up in a bonfire. It screamed and screamed and screamed until finally the voice quieted, then went silent. I stayed there for hours, just watching the flames consume the so-called God, making sure the fire didn't spread. For whatever reason, only the tree burned. None of the other plants did, even though they were dry and seemed ripe to catch fire. hours later, when the tree was just a husk, the face unrecognizable, and the plant had finally stopped smoldering. I took out a pocket knife and approached the trunk.

I started to carve letters into the charred bark. They wouldn't last, and no one would see them. But that didn't matter. It was just something I had to do. When I finished, I took a step back, admiring my work. It wasn't much, but it was something. for Ruby. I took one last look at those words I'd carved and left. SCP 1421 is an English oak tree located in Braden Forest, Wiltshire, England,

with an anomalous ability to rapidly drain chemical or electrical energy sources within a 5-meter radius, including a fasting-like state in humans. A carving designated SCP 1421-1, depicting an elderly man with a beard, appears on the tree's trunk, and seemingly communicates with subjects, offering advice that is often unethical or illegal, like harming others. While subjects are not compelled to follow these suggestions, the altered state induced by SCP 1421 often leads to compliance, resulting in serious consequences like arrest or death. SCP 1421-1 claims to be a nature of,

deity and possesses detailed knowledge about those it converses with.