The SCP Experience - This Place Wants to Kill You | SCP-2427
Episode Date: November 4, 2022SCP Foundation EUCLID class object, SCP-2427: This Place Wants to Kill You This story was derived from https://scp-wiki.wikidot.com/scp-2427, 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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Lazang sur-gillet,
Puisance-Moyerned
15 minutes.
Oh, you'd say that's the
Dojo.
Prere to play?
Vive the pleasure
with the Ojo,
the casino in-line
that proposes the
most recent machine-a-sou
and the game of casino
in direct.
Profite of 50 tours
on Big Bas, Bonanza.
Without exigance
of misgents and with
the payments instantane.
Hey, I've gained.
Woohoo!
Sentire the pleasure.
Play-Ojo
18-10 and plus,
1,1,
first depots only depots
in Ontario.
50 tours
on the machine-a-sou
DePas Bonanza,
DePos minimum of 10 dollars.
Veigh I'm
Welcome to aboard, Via Rai.
Embarked and profite.
Embarked and relaxes.
Cirotay.
Bookiné.
Oh, that also.
And profite.
Villaray, the voice that we love that we love.
The goat seems to sense what's going to happen to it.
As I step foot on the first stone stare,
the goat pulls back, fighting against me.
Sorry, Billy, I say.
But we got to go.
There are a bunch of foundation scientists and guards.
standing in a wide circle in the grass, staring at me.
Many of them wear sunglasses to guard against the bright day.
Come on, bro. It's just a goat.
D. 55346 says from nearby.
He steps up and kicks the goat in the butt,
and the animal lunges forward, toward the small stone staircase.
Here we go, I think, as I move up the steps quickly.
I step off the top of the broken stone staircase and into the grass on the other side.
But there are no foundation people around anymore.
It's just me, standing at one end of a large field, holding a dangling leash.
Billy?
I say.
I call all the goats, Billy.
All three of them that I've had the displeasure of escorting to their terrible deaths.
Sying, I turn around and step back up into the small staircase.
I walked down the three stairs this time and find myself once again among a gathering of foundation personnel.
I immediately see what the problem is.
When D-55-346, Castro is his name, kicked Billy, he knocked off the sprig of hemlock
that was clipped to the goat's brittle hair.
Gotta have hemlock to get through.
I look around and see Castro chasing Billy around, trying to catch him.
It's pretty funny, actually, like something out of a dumb comedy.
I chuckle as Castro finally catches the animal.
Then I run over and put the leash back on.
Once we get the hemlock back on and I make sure I still have my sprig in the pocket of my orange
jumpsuit, I try it again.
Billy must be tired from all the running around, because he doesn't fight me much as I lead
him up the stairs and into the strange dimension.
We stand and wait a few moments for Castro to come through.
I don't need to look around to take the place in.
There's not a whole lot to look at, anyway.
It's a wide field of grass with a ring of trees bordering it in a ragged circle.
There are a few small trees here and there on the field, but nothing like the thick ring that serves as a border.
And there's a large building right in the middle of the field.
The sun shines down through a cloud speckled sky.
Castro suddenly appears next to the staircase.
He starts looking around immediately, like a teenager in a sex shop.
You do remember what they told you about this place, right?
I ask him.
He waves a dismissive hand.
Yeah, yeah, I remember.
I'm not an idiot.
That's debatable, I say under my breath.
The fuck you say, bitch!
Castro says, puffing out his chest and raising his arms as he steps toward me.
I said that's relatable, I tell him.
He looks confused.
Probably doesn't know what relatable means.
I sigh.
Let's go.
Don't touch anything.
I start walking toward the brick building in the middle of the large field.
After taking a few strides, I realize Casper,
isn't walking with me and Billy.
I turn and see him looking up at the sky.
Dude, check out this cloud, he says.
It's not moving.
No!
I yell, but it's too late.
A black ball of lead shoots out of the cloud and smashes into Castro,
slamming him to the ground and pulverizing his chest in an explosion of gore.
What the fuck?
I say.
I trudge back to the staircase and walk down it, still towing Billy.
A couple of foundation guards and a scientist are already escorting another D-class guy toward me.
We have cameras sewn into our jumpsuits, so they saw Castro's idiotic death in real-time.
I go up to the scientist and take them aside.
Can't I just go alone? I ask him.
No, you can't. Why not?
Because it's protocol.
I look over my shoulder at the D-class guy.
His name is Perkins, and he's not the brightest.
bulb in the chandelier either. He's big though, country bread, dirty blonde hair and a football player's
physique. Well, I say, can you at least give me someone who has a double-digit IQ? The scientist shrugs.
Smart people don't commit crimes, and if they do, they don't get caught. He's got a point. All the D-class
people have been cherry-picked from prisons, including myself. I move back up the stairs and into the
strange dimension. Perkins comes in after me. For God's sake, don't look at the clouds,
I tell him. I know, he says, smiling. I lead the way to the building, dragging Billy along with me.
As we come up to a small fenced off tree, I already know Perkins will want to stop. Sure enough,
he does, looking over the fence and down at the base of the tree. The roots, if you can call them that,
have been excavated by foundation scientists.
But they aren't really roots.
It's a naked human male, lying spread-eagled and twitching in the excavated hole.
The tree grows out of his crotch area.
There are 18 such trees, but not all of them have been excavated.
The scientists used ground-penetrating radar after the first one to see the human shapes
resting underground.
Each tree has a sign on it that reads,
The Lederists suffer what they must, and it is beautiful.
Wow, Perkins says.
They're alive?
Looks that way, I say.
That sucks.
Yeah, it does.
This whole place sucks.
Now, let's get this done and get out of here.
The building we're headed to is late Victorian in style.
It has two large five-story towers flanking the central bulk of the building, which has three stories.
It's made with brick and features white trim in several balconies.
Billy resists as we get closer, bleeding, and protest.
He can sense something inside, I guess.
But I pull him up the stairs and inside the building.
We step into the central foyer, which leads to only three rooms.
Where's the rest of the building?
Perkins asks.
I roll my eyes.
So he didn't read the packet they gave him.
At least, not all of it.
This is it, I say.
It's not the same on the inside as it looks on the outside.
Something occurs to me, and I smile to myself.
I lead Perkins over to the second room, which contains nothing.
It's only an empty room with a tile floor.
Go on in, I say.
I've got to prepare Billy.
I squat beside the goat as if I'm doing something important.
Perkins steps into the room.
By the time he makes it to the middle of the space, he sways slightly,
turning back toward me with a worried look on his face.
Then his face goes blank, and he starts speaking.
I have the brain of a goldfish and the soul of a screaming rich.
I've never been pure in my life.
From the day I was born, sin was my only goal.
As a baby in a crib, I cried when I did not have the warmth of a bosom
or the sweetness of a bottle in my mouth.
I am a pathetic excuse for a man.
I could have used my size and strength to fight in Wolock's army,
given my miserable life to purify all known worlds and dimensions.
Instead, I spent the days chasing comfort and engaging in sex.
But even then, I have failed to create a son for the dark army of truth,
or a daughter to be used by her bedders for childbirth and menial labor.
Please, oh glorious master, take me into your slithering arms and feast upon my brain,
so my life will finally have meaning.
I know he'll be in a daze for a few more minutes, so I turn away, chuckling.
The scientists wouldn't let me see the recording of what I said when I stepped into that room,
but I bet it was awesome.
I get to another door across the foyer and kneel in front of Billy again.
I look into his strange, rectangular pupils and tell him it's not personal.
Sorry, buddy.
I think you're all right, you know?
I'd just let you go if I could.
But that's not the way this works.
That thing in there needs to eat, and you're the unlucky bastard for today.
Billy bleats in response, but I don't speak goat.
Putting my left hand on the doorknob, I grip Billy's leash tight right at his neck.
I close my eyes and crack the door, then shove Billy inside.
He gets about halfway in before he starts screaming in terror.
I hear the harsh exhalations of the beast in the room.
It's coming near.
But I dare not open my eyes.
Instead, I shift and knee Billy in the butt as I keep pushing him.
The beast inside is close now, but Billy's still fighting.
The goat is yanked inside, and his screaming intensifies for one insane moment as I slam the door shut.
Then the screaming dies down as the sound of flesh tearing comes to my ears.
Movement to my right startles me, and I look up to see Perkins standing there.
Oh man, you scared me, I say, standing up straight and stepping away from the door.
Let's get out of here.
I am pure, Perkins says, still with a blank look on his face.
Oh, shit, I say as he steps forward.
He must have seen the beast.
Anyone who looks upon it becomes convinced that they'll get one wish from the beast if it judges them pure.
Problem is, no one's pure.
Some other D-class people learn that the hard way.
I am pure.
No, no, Perkins.
Just listen to me.
It's a trick.
I block the door.
But he grabs my shoulders and pulls.
pulls me out of the way.
He reaches out to open the door, but I knock his arm away.
Then I remember the amnestics I was given for just such an occasion.
I grabbed the little auto-injector out of my pocket and jam it into his neck, depressing
the button to inject the drug into his system.
He reaches for the door again, and I knock his hand away again.
Then he stops fighting and looks around in confusion.
What happened?
He asks.
Where are we?
It's only a five-minute dose, so he should remember everything
for coming into the building.
Come on, buddy, I say, guiding him toward the front door.
Let's go.
I don't feel good, he says.
I know.
The amnestics will do that to you.
Let's just get you back to the world.
We move outside the building, and my heart finally starts to settle after the close call.
I've seen too many people die in this SCP.
Too damn many.
As we approach the staircase, Perkins begins to stumble.
I hold him up.
wondering if he's having an adverse reaction to the drugs.
I've seen people throw up, but never stumble like this.
It's strange.
I prop him up in front of the staircase while I made sure I still have my sprig of hemlock in my pocket.
Perkins, where's your hemlock?
Huh?
You're a sprig of hemlock, I say,
reaching awkwardly into his right and then his left pockets.
You need it to get back.
You mean the carrot flowers?
He says, drunkenly.
I ate them.
I always loved the taste of them, but these ones were really nasty.
Too bitter.
You've got to be kidding me, I say.
You ate the hemlock?
You ate the fucking hemlock?
How fucking stoop?
I stopped myself.
No use yelling at a dead man.
Hemlock is extremely poisonous if you eat enough.
And if his sprig was as big as mine, then he'll be dead soon.
Besides, hemlock does look a lot like wild carrot greens, right down to the little white flowers.
He collapses, and I help him gently to the ground, laying him on his back.
I'm going to die, aren't I?
He asks, looking up at me, tears filling his eyes.
I don't know, I say.
Maybe not.
Maybe you didn't eat enough for a fatal dose.
I'll go back through and get you some help, okay?
I move to stand up, but he grabs the front of my jumpsuit.
No, stay with me.
I'm so tired.
Just try to stay awake.
Just stay awake for me, Perkins.
You survived this place.
You're not going to die from eating a fucking plant.
A small smile comes across his face as his eyes drift from mine.
He looks past my head, up into the sky.
It's a nice day, he says quietly.
Nice day.
His voice fades as he continues talking, but I can't hear what he says.
I lean down closer.
What's that, Perkins?
Nice clouds.
My heart drops.
into my stomach as I remember the fucking cloud that shoots fucking cannonballs.
I turned my head just in time to see the black ball of lead, huge in my vision as it hurdles toward us.
SCP 2427 is a collective designation for all abnormal phenomena associated with SCP 2427-B,
accessible via SCP 2427-A, which is a broken stone staircase located in the American state of Ohio.
Any person who ascends the staircase while holding a sprig of Hemlock will enter an extra-dimensional area,
hereafter known as SCP 2427-B.
Hemlock is also required to exit the area by descending the staircase.
SCP 2427-B is a circular plateau, 1.86 miles in diameter.
It superficially resembles a forested hill in the American Midwest.
The solar time never changes from 2 p.m. in the solar time.
inside the area. Any person who breaches the forested border while inside SCP 2427-B will be destroyed via air bombardment by a cloud that shoots lead balls designated SCP 2427-5.
So far there have been seven types of anomalous objects observed within, undocumented by the foundation, have been noted by information discovered on site.
Through documentation located inside, SCP 2427-B has been determined to be a storage area for anomalous weapons, tools, and prisoners for a religious organization known as the Brazen Heart.
The existence of several other storage areas hidden throughout the world has also been implied.
The Brazen Heart was previously believed to have been a Moloch-worshipping cult eradicated during the Spanish Inquisition.
They express extreme animosity for the foundation and humanity at large,
but the foundation has yet to interact directly with any professed members of the organization.
As such, it is unknown how active the brazen heart is at this time.
