The SCP Experience - They Came From the Depths | SCP-7420

Episode Date: September 27, 2024

Want to listen ad-free? Try it FREE for 7 days here: patreon.com/TheSCPExperience SCP Foundation UNCONTAINED class object, SCP-7420 This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-7420 and is released under Creative Commons Sharealike 3.0. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/ Author: Matt D. * * * 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 Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

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on the machine-a-Bass Bonanza. Depos minimum of $10 dollars. Veighed to pay are responsible. The conditions apply. Why don't we do this more often? Danica asked as we strolled

through the park under the frigid winter sky. Because I'm freezing my took us off. I said, arm outstretched as our black and tan German pincher struggled against the leash. A squirrel tunted her from a nearby

tree, and I could feel her vibrating with the killing instinct through the leash. I'm serious. Danica said, grabbing my left elbow and leaning her head against my shoulder. as we walked. Some am I. I'm too cold for this shit. I want to do this more often, Danica said. Get out and just walk among the normal people. It helps me gain some perspective. We do what we do

for these people, so they can walk around like this, blissfully ignorant. Soggy leaves coated the ground, and little pockets of snow held out in shadows against the weak sun. There were a surprising amount of people out in the park. Of course, it was New Year's Day. It seemed everyone was trying to start the year off on the right foot. I looked at the faces of the people we passed. Most of them were in their own little worlds. I knew Danica was right, but it wasn't the only reason we did what we did. At least, it wasn't my only reason. Mostly, I did it because I could never live a boring life. Even if doing so meant I would live a long life. I was perfectly okay with living a short, exciting one. It was worlds better than a long, boring one. We passed the taunting squirrel,

and Coda reluctantly walked on, her floppy ears up and the hair along her spine still raised. Okay, I said finally. We'll do this more often, but we'll have to take turns with Coda. My shoulder can't take too much of her pulling. Danica reached up and kissed me on the cheek. You're sweet, but that's not going to happen. She never listens to me. You're stuck with her. And me.

I shrugged, smiling. Could be worse. We walked on through the chilly morning for several long moments before we heard the screaming. Koda heard it long before either of us. But I figured she had just heard another dog. dog off in the distance, or, God forbid, another squirrel. She slowed and looked off to our left, at the canyons created by the tall buildings lining Central Park.

At my urging, she kept going, but she kept her attention that way, looking towards 70th Street as we came abreast of it. Then, as if the screams had been funneled down the man-made canyon, Danica and I heard them. We both stopped walking, and I looked that way. I could just barely see through the tangled, leafless branches that stood between us and Fifth Avenue, which ran parallel to the path we were on. Through the branches, I could see down 70th Street, but not far enough to discern what was going on. But it sounded bad, whatever it was.

Dozens of people were screaming, men and women. Then there came an immense crashing sound, so powerful it caused the ground to shake. Off in the distance, maybe three blocks away. down 70th, a huge puff of gray dust erupted. My first thought wasn't a terrorist attack. I'd seen way too much weird shit for my mind to go there first. My first thought was something far worse. Danica and I looked at each other.

Coda whined. As if reading my mind, Danica asked, What about Cota? I looked down at our beloved dog. We couldn't just leave her, but we also couldn't take her with us. We'll find a place. I said, stepping off the walking path and toward the edge of the park. Danica fell in beside me, and we rushed toward the sounds of chaos.

As we leaped over the low wall separating the park from the busy city streets, both our phones chimed with incoming messages. As we waited for a break in the traffic on Fifth Avenue, we looked at our phones. They were orders to get to the facility as quick as possible. Again, we shared a look, completely on the same page, There was finally a break in the traffic, and we hustled across the street, heading down 70th. Apartment buildings lined the right side of the street, and they kept my eyes peeled.

Finally, I saw a man holding a small dog in the crook of his arm come out of one of the buildings, looking with wide eyes toward the source of all the commotion. We hurried toward him. Sir, go back inside now, and take our dog with you, I said, thrusting the leash at him. We'll be back for her as soon as we can. He looked down at the leash, then at the dog, then up into my face. What? Please, something's going on, and we have to get down there to help people, so we need your help to look after our dog.

You're police? he asked. First responders? Yeah, something like that, Danica said. Please, sir, we'll be back for her. She loves other dogs. She won't hurt your little one. It was Coda that finally did it. She looked up into the man's face with her puppy dog eyes.

Okay, the man said, taking her leash. I'm in apartment 301. Hurry up and help those people. Thank you. I said as Danica and I hurried away. Hey! The guy called. What's happening anyway?

Something bad. I called back. Now please, go inside. The man did as I asked, and I glanced back once to see Coda staring after us just before she turned to go in. inside. I hope we see her again, Danica said as we picked up the base. Now that we were closer, I could see figures milling about in the slowly settling dust two blocks ahead. Fear mixed with

excitement in my stomach as I said. Yeah, me too. The screaming had settled, and in its place, there were concerned shouts from people trying to find each other or their loved ones amid the dust. We slowed to a walk as we approached the 70th and Park Avenue intersection. I could just make out an enormous hole in the street, which spanned the entire intersection. Unlike the other roads we had passed, Park Avenue was a two-way street, the opposing lanes separated by a lane-sized median with landscaped trees and grass. Holy shit, Danica said. Is that a sinkhole?

Cars were stopped and rows on either side of the double-wide inner. section. Wide-eyed drivers stared toward the hole with gaping mouths. Across the hole, caddy cornered to us. A 12-story red brick apartment building was tilted madly toward the pit, which I could not see the bottom of. I wasn't sure if that was because of the still-settling dust, or if the bottom was too far to see. A great groaning sound filled the air, like a stone giant awakening from a deep slumber as the ground underneath the corner of the red brick building fell away. The building cracked and snapped as it tilted unsteadily toward the hole. Danica and I moved back on instinct as the structure fell toward us into the hole.

The pit was more than wide enough to swallow the considerable structure, and that's just what it did. The ground shook and a sound like a dozen small bombs going off erupted as the building smashed down into the bottom of the pit. More dust shot up, causing us to cough and pull our scarves up over our mouths. Suddenly, I was grateful for the frigid temperature. Otherwise, I might not have had such a handy piece of cloth to tie around my head. Do you think this is why they're calling us in?

Danica asked. A sinkhole? I don't know. I said. Seems like a pretty big coincidence. Maybe this isn't the only one. Do you know of any skips that cause sinkholes? Danica shook her head.

Me neither. We stared into the hole as more people gathered around. horns were honking, New Yorkers were yelling, and sirens sounded in the distance. Well, I guess we better get running, I said. I doubt we'll be able to catch a cab there, and you can bet the subways are stopped. I guess so, Danica agreed. But as we turned to head toward Midtown, someone shouted, What the fuck is that thing?

My blood ran cold. As always, the feeling was accompanied by a giddy excitement that I was about to look, death. in the eye. I turned and looked back. The people who had gathered around us, still a seemingly safe distance from the pit, now parted, backing even further away from the edge of the hole. Through the dust, I saw what they were frightened of, and I knew immediately that they were right to be scared. The red thing emerged from the pit, moving smoothly on eight legs, each as thick around as the widest part of a baseball bat. The legs were attached to an hourglass-shaped abdomen that stood about six and a half feet off the ground. I searched for a head or some sensory

organs, but found none. It looked like a giant spider without a head, bright red everywhere, but the insectile joints were the red color darkened toward black. I don't know what the people nearest the thing were thinking. Maybe they were in shock. Maybe they thought this was a dream. Or maybe they were so confident in their New York toughness that they didn't see the threat this thing posed. They backed away, but they didn't run, and they should have. The creature took a moment to gather its bearings before jumping at an onlooker, a middle-aged man and a long gray coat and a scally cap.

With just one of its sharp pointed legs, it caught the man in the chest and slammed him to the ground. The leg impaled his body, smashing through his ribs in a spray of blood. That was enough. Finally, people ran. So did Danica and I. But the difference was, we ran toward the thing. We had to dodge around frightened New Yorkers,

unwrapping our scarves from around our faces as we went, and then wrapping them around our hands with enough slack between to be useful. I hope these are quality, I said to Danica, who had bought the scarves. Don't you know me at home, baby? It was time to go to work. As we closed in on the creature, it turned toward us in. expectancy. Danica went left, and I went right so we could come at the thing from either side. It reared up on four back legs as we attacked. I dodged a strike from a foreleg and wrapped my scarf

around it, quickly dodging a strike from another leg as I tightened the scarf and dove underneath the creature, holding tight to the clothing accessory. At first, I didn't think the leg would break, but it did when I put my back into it. The creature made no noise, other than the rip-crunch of the appendage breaking as I hauled it back and under. Danica did something similar with the other four-leg, but she was more agile than me, so she jumped up onto the creature's back, yanking the leg with her and breaking it with more ease than I had managed. The creature shot another leg at me, and I dodged away, but the sharp tip sliced through the outside of my left thigh. I was trying to unravel my scarf from its leg, but the pain made me angry enough

to change tack. I saw Danica roll off the creature and dodge away from a blow, so I abandoned my scarf and stood up to my full height with my hands up on the bottom of the creature's abdomen. I lifted it off the ground and pumped my legs, running toward the hole, which was only a couple of steps away. Just as the thing jammed two of its legs toward me, one from either side, I threw the thing as hard as I could back into the hole. It fell into the pit, disappearing into the darkness below. I bent over huffing from the effort and inspecting the wound to my leg. It wasn't pretty. I would need stitches.

Danica appeared next to me, bending down and wrapping her scarf around my thigh to staunch the bleeding. Are you proud of yourself? She asked. I mean, it worked, didn't it? Maybe, but it was stupid and reckless. Your anger is still getting the better of you. I shrugged. It works until it doesn't.

She sighed. Well, let's hope it doesn't. come back up. I saw movement in the hole and said, Uh, what? Technically, it isn't coming back up, but I think it has a bunch of brothers and sisters. Danica, finished tying the scarf, stood up and looked down into the hole to see what I was seeing. Dozens of the creatures were scuttling up the sides of the hole toward us. Okay, I think we should run. Danica said. What about you? Yeah, I said. But my leg, can you carry me?

She shook her head. I hate you sometimes. I grinned, and we took off, me limping and Danica slowing her easy stride so she wouldn't leave me in the dust. Behind us, the creatures poured in all directions out of the hole. It was a straight shot down Park Avenue to Grand Central, and we were lucky enough to come across a crashed but still usable motorcycle. The better rider, Danica drove while I held onto her, smiling madly as the icy wind

whipped through my hair and burned my cheeks. There were more sinkholes in the city, although we didn't see any on our trek down Park Avenue. We did see more of those strange, headless spiders, lots more. They crawled on the side of buildings, breaking through windows and invading offices and apartments alike. There had to be more, and I wondered whether New York was the only city under attack.

I didn't think it likely. At one point, I pulled my phone out to call my boss, telling him why we'd been held up, but I saw I had no service. That certainly wasn't a good sign. People ran and screamed and looted. I lost count of the number of car crashes we saw. We narrowly escaped a couple of limb-tearing impacts ourselves, thanks to Danica's expert handling of the crotch rocket we'd come and deared.

By the time we reached Grand Central, it seemed chaos had engulfed the entire island of Manhattan. We ditched the bike outside and ran. through the station where people were crouched, hiding out, hoping whatever was happening outside didn't spill in. But soon after we got inside, the creatures started coming in. They crashed through the doors and into the cavernous station, attacking people under the massive domed ceiling, splashing blood on the pink marble floor tiles. Police officers engaged them, shooting with their handguns, doing what they could. I hesitated, wanting to turn back and help, but no

that the best thing we could do was get down to the foundation. They would have a plan in order, and maybe weapons that would be more effective than handguns against the arachnid cousin creatures. So we kept going. Down a hallway, passed some bathrooms in a janitor's closet. Then we came to an unmarked door with a keypad beside it. Danica entered her code, and the door unlocked.

As we stepped through, I turned and saw a creature scurrying down the hallway toward us. No, not just one creature, several, moving with a purpose. We slammed the door behind us and ran down the short corridor, soon coming to an elevator. As Danica punched in another code to get the doors open, I heard the door we'd just come through crashing in. We stepped inside the elevator and looked up so our retinas could be scanned to verify our identities. With that done, the elevator started its descent. Do you think they know? I asked. Or were they just following the humans?

Danica swallowed loudly. There were plenty of humans to target out there. I think they know. I think they're coming for the foundation. As we reached the bottom, the only floor the elevator went to, we heard a great crashing sound from up above. And as we stepped off the elevator into a lobby filled with armed security guards, something fell into the top of the elevator with a thud.

One of the security guards, a man named Agarwal, shouted at us. The other officers stared at the elevator behind us, weapons up. We ran through the gap they'd made and turned the corner, running down the hall to the command room. Stepping into the room, we got a much better idea of how serious this was. The command room featured a wall of television screens on one side and a wall of weapons on another. Rows of desks with computers and phones and radios were occupied by men and women,

making and receiving calls from other foundations, sights around the world. On the screens, we saw news footage and shaky phone footage from all corners of the globe. My blood turned to ice again, but this time there was no giddy excitement. There was only pure dread. Earth was under attack, and we were losing. Helicopter footage from Tokyo caught my eye. It was like looking at an ant hill. The streets of the Japanese city had turned red with the creatures. Like massive rivers of blood, they spread out through the city, killing anyone in their way. I focused on another screen, seeing the elevator lobby where all the security guards were waiting. Nothing had happened yet. The elevator doors were closed.

Site director Fortner saw us come in and walked toward us from his spot at a semi-circular desk under the wall of screens. He had a bum leg and walked with the cane. Danica and I, I rushed toward him. Arm yourselves and then go downstairs to the archives room on sub-level six. You two are going to be our last line of defense. There are two researchers down there. One of them thinks they know a way to stop it, but they have to find the document first.

Document? I asked. What document? Fortner swiped a palm over his bald dome. According to researcher Grogan from the mythology and folkloristics department, it details an artifact found by the foundation, nearly a hundred years ago. It wasn't deemed relevant at the time

and was eventually sent here for digitalization. Apparently, no one ever got around to putting it on our servers. So if it's the right thing, and if it works, we'll need to get it onto our servers so all the other sites can access it. And if it's not? Danica asked. If it's just a useless piece of paper for another skip,

what then? Fortner grimaced, looking like a twice-dead skeleton. Then we try something else, or hope someone from another side figures out what the hell we're dealing with. Great, I said. We're on it. Danica and I each grabbed a rifle from the weapons wall, along with extra mags. We strapped sidearms on and then left the room. Fortner watched us go and said,

I've already sent whoever I can spare down there, but it's not many. You'll have to make due. A hail of gunfire sounded from down the hall, from the lobby. We stopped at the door, glancing back at the screen showing the lobby. All work stopped in the command room as every pair of eyes fixed on that screen. The creatures had breached the elevator doors. They were coming. Go! Fortner yelled at us.

We went, the sound of gunfire and screams chasing us down the hall to the stairwell door. Several security officers were situated outside the archives room. They had flipped some flimsy tables on their sides, and were now crouched behind them, rifles pointing over the top. What's going on up there? One of them asked as we came around the corner. It's not good, but we think there's a shot at stopping those things, I said. Just stay here and keep watch.

They watched us pass, clearly wanting more information. Danica and I moved through the alarmingly normal door to the archives room, stepping into a space in disarray. The place was lined with filing cabinets and shelves laden with boxes. A sweaty man and a lab coat stood in one of the aisles, looking fervently through a box he'd liberated from a shelf. After quickly scanning each document, he tossed down, apparently unhappy with the results of his frantic search. Are you Grogan? Danica asked. The man didn't even look up.

In the back. We moved down the wide center aisle, stepping on discarded papers and dodging thrown cardboard boxes. Son of a bitch, bastard! A man yelled from somewhere near the back of the room. We rushed toward the source of the noise, which was coming from the back right corner of the space. We soon brought researcher Grogan into view. He crouched on the floor over a box,

digging through the contents with his mouth open and his tongue wiggling between his lips. He had eyeglasses pushed up onto his forehead under a patchwork of gray hair. He looked near 60 to me, but he had the energy of a much younger man. I guessed the possibility of a global apocalypse could do that to a person. Sensing something I couldn't put into words,

neither Danica nor I spoke as we approached the man. He seemed on the trail of the sought-after document, and closing in. As we got closer, his tongue pulled reluctantly back inside, and he started whispering saying, Son off a bitch! In increasingly jubilant tones. When we were just two paces away, his eyes went wide, and he gripped a manila folder in both hands as he stood up out of his crouch. Son of a bitch!

He said, absently pulling his glasses down over his eyes and then flipping the folder open. After a moment of bowel tightening tension, he looked up at us. Got it! He said with the child's grin. Got it! He rushed past us with the folder held reverently in his hands. We followed him all the way to the opposite question. corner of the room and threw a door into a small office with a computer and a handheld radio.

After snatching the radio up, he spoke into it. Commander Estevez, are you there? A moment hung in the air like a spider about to drop onto an unsuspecting victim. The commander of the exterminator's mobile task force answered, letting us draw a breath again. Tell me you got it, Estevez said. The radio didn't just transmit his voice, but it also transmitted the sound of gunfell.

fire and shouting. Estevez was in the shit, and it sounded like he was losing. Listen carefully and do exactly as I say, Rogan said. He went on to read from the document, outlining a complicated series of steps that required at least six people, and included shouting nonsense words, dancing, and drawing blood from the inner thighs of those performing the ritual. Once he was done, he closed the instruction by saying, If you don't do exactly as it says, it won't work. So make sure it's done properly. It's the only way we'll know.

Fine. Estabez shouted over the radio. We'll do it. I had my captain take down what you said. You better be goddamn right. Let me know if it works. Grogan said, yanking the chair out from behind the desk and dropping himself onto it. But there was no time to waste.

As he reached for the computer, shouts and muffled gunshots came from outside the archives room. Danica and I brought our rifles up and hustled out of the small office. I paused outside the office as Danica ran over so she could look down the aisle at the main door. How long will it take you to upload it so other sites can see it? I asked. If it works? Maybe three minutes. If the goddamn equipment cooperates, I've been asking for a new computer for a year now. I grimaced at that, but said nothing.

I'm starting the process now, Brogan said. just in case it does work, which I think it should, but it will only work on one sinkhole at a time. That's the problem. That's the big fucking problem. The gunfire continued outside the archives room. The other researcher, the one we'd passed, ran down and ducked past me into the office. He started gibbering at Grogan, who ignored him, focusing on the computer.

I ran over and joined Danica. We took up positions on either side of the main aisle. rifles pointed at the door. A moment later, the door opened, and two of the four guards that had been outside rushed into the room. They both tried to shut the door, but the creatures were too strong. They forced it open, shoving the security officers away. They turned to run. The creatures attacked them, spearing both men with their sharp legs as Danica and I fired our weapons.

It soon became untenable, with creatures spreading out through the entire room. entire room. Danica and I ran back to the office, pulled the door shut, and locked it. It worked! Grogan said. It worked, but only at that particular sinkhole, as I suspected. They've all got to do it. Wherever there's a sinkhole, they've got to do it. Well, you better hurry up and get it sent out, because we're running out of time.

Danica said, the excitement I'd always felt during a mission was now gone, and I lamented its absence. Never before had the consequences been so starkly outlined. In the past, my death would have been little more than just that, my death. But now, as the creatures banged into the office door, my death could very well mean the death of all humanity. That took all the fun out of it. And I wanted nothing more than to be back in the park, walking with Danica and Coda, enjoying the frigid first day of the new year. I wondered if Coda was okay. If not, I hoped she had gone quickly and without any suffering. The other researcher, whose name I learned was Chaffin, when Grogan told him to shut up,

was screaming and begging us to protect them. Before I could do the honors, Danica moved over to him and knocked him out with the butt of a rifle. He slid down in the corner. How much longer? I yelled over the sound of the creatures trying, and slowly succeeding to break the door down. I've scanned it in! Grogan yelled. I just need to sign into the secure server and upload the file!

The top left corner of the metal door folded inward, a creature's leg poking through. Danica shot at it, and the creature retreated. But another one soon took its place. Shooting at their limbs would only waste ammo, so Danica declined to fire again. She looked into my eyes. I smiled and winked at her,

not wanting her to be afraid. She scowled at first, then managed a weak smile. Won't Commander Estevez be able to disseminate the ritual to others? I asked Grogan. The man's fingers flew across the keyboard as he answered with the shake of the head. Not unless we get the internet, where the phone towers back up. They're currently down.

These things know what the hell they're doing. So the only way to communicate with our foundation sites across the world is through our internal communications network, which is still up. For now. Maybe he can get someone with a ham rate, It would be too slow, Grogan said. Hell, I don't even know how many sights are still left at this point.

Even this may be too little, too late. Well, I was just hoping we wouldn't be humanity's last best hope, I said. Grogan laughed without humor. The door finally gave way, and the creatures crowded the doorway. Danica and I fired our rifles, trying to stack enough corpses in the doorway to give us some more time. Reloading! I shouted when I was... mag ran out. The creatures were smart enough to pull their dead brethren back out of the way to get through.

I knew our plan wasn't going to work. Danica fired, the sound of gunshots becoming all I could hear. As I exchanged magazines, I looked over my shoulder at the computer screen. Grogan was signing into the secure server, but the screen was buffering, a little circle spinning above the words. Loading, please wait! As soon as I started firing again, it was Danica's turn to reload. How much longer? I shouted. I'm almost there. Grogan screamed.

Just shut up! We just needed to hold them back a little longer. The creatures kept coming. We kept firing. I'm out! Danica said, tossing her rifle down and grabbing her sidearm. I fired nine more shots, and my rifle clicked empty. Me too!

As I tossed my rifle down and unholstered my pistol, I looked at the screen again. Grogan had signed into the server and was putting in the command to send the instructions to every foundation site across the globe. This is going to work, I thought. Feeling a little bit of that excitement, seeped back into my veins. Just a little. If we could get this sent off, I could die with some semblance of peace. Grogan hit the enter key to send it off.

I turned my attention back to the door. The creatures were coming. Danica and I fired, quickly emptying our pistols. When we were both empty, we shared a look. I smiled again. The creatures were pulling their dead back again, but we only had seconds left to live. Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding me, Brogan said.

I looked over at the computer again. A single message occupied the screen. Error. Request timed out. I looked up just as a new wave of creatures poured into the room. SCP 7420 began at 843 Eastern Standard. time on January 1, 2025, when several sinkholes ranging from 8 feet to over 1,000 feet in diameter began forming around the world in major population centers. Thousands of anomalous entities soon emerged from all sinkholes formed during SCP-7420, causing worldwide

panic and disarray. These entities, designated SCP-7420-A instances, are variable in appearance, Though, are typically red in coloration, are slightly larger than an average human, and are eight-legged. Instances possess no heads or notable structures besides legs and abdomens, and vaguely resemble large spiders. Instances are hostile to humans, and have been shown to attack on sight with intense force, often resulting in fatality for the victim.