"I'm wondering, you know, what kind of church event requires the crosses to be put away?"
The remains of Westwood St. Church of Christ.
Item #: SCP-9302
Object Class: Uncontained
Special Containment Procedures: Initial containment efforts for SCP-9302 have failed. Future containment efforts are pending the anomaly's re-discovery and capture. A medium-priority search order for any instances found in Tennessee and the greater Southern United States has been issued. While SCP-9302 in specific has so far shown to be relatively docile, vampires and vampirism are still understood as extremely dangerous anomalous threats. SCP-9302 instances should be approached with caution and, if necessary, lethal force.
Description: SCP-9302 refers to the active vampire population of Eschar, Tennessee.
There is no evidence of any Eschar resident, human or otherwise, regarding SCP-9302 as unusual prior to Foundation involvement within the town. It is not known when Eschar developed a substantial vampire population, as town residents have been reluctant to share information. However, as of 2025, vampires were unusually well-integrated—of particular note were the presence of a local hog farm and blood donation clinic, each partially dedicated to providing sustenance to vampires safely and a broad trend of businesses keeping far later opening hours than would be expected (including, notably, Westwood St. Church of Christ, which held a 1 AM service each Sunday during which crucifixes would be temporarily removed from the auditorium.)
Discovery: The Foundation's presence in Eschar began in June of 2004 during the surveillance and containment of an unrelated anomaly. In July of 2025, after the conclusion of said anomaly, field researcher Dr. Tom Hutt was tasked with conducting a final survey of the town and key locations within it to ensure no lingering effects remained.
On 7/26/25 at 11:39 PM, while conducting the survey, Hutt was noticed by local minister April Cavler. Finding the resulting encounter suspicious, Hutt motioned for further investigation.
Relevant audio file attached.
- Now Playing...
The audio file starts with a click and a hushed whisper. "This is Dr. Tom Hutt, conducting a post-neutralization survey of SCP-8313. I am in the South lobby of Westwood St. Church of Christ." The voice sounds weary and bored.
A light, almost imperceptible crackle rings through the background, drowned out by a sudden electronic buzz. "Hume readings normal. I don't see anything out of the ordinary, either."
A few footsteps, rising and then lowering in pitch, as if trailing in a circle. "All clear in the South lobby. I'm tired. Entering the auditorium now."
The sound of a door opening slowly, and then closing very quickly. Heavy breathing.
Muffled, as if in another room, a woman's voice calling. "Hello? Is someone there?"
Heavy breathing, slowly tapering down.
"It's alright! I'm just about finished putting everything away!"
A pause, broken by the sound of a door opening again.
"Hi there! Who invited you in?," says the voice, now un-muffled.
Footsteps. "I'm just here to pray," says Dr. Hutt, in the tone of someone who desperately needs to be convincing.
The distinct sound of a woman placing one hand on her hip, unconvinced. "Well, that's what we're here for," she says, "but I asked who invited you in."
"I suppose I just invited myself."
"…I see." A few more footsteps, and then, slightly closer to the microphone, "Are you an out-of-towner?"
The sound of a head nodding.
"Well, it's nice to meet you. My name's April." The ruffle of an awkward handshake. "Our first traditional service today is at 8. Right now, though, I'm afraid we're setting up for a private event."
The sound of a single step backwards. "What kind of private event do you have going on at midnight?"
"Oh, could be a lot of things. Maybe a lock-in, maybe an emergency prayer group. We could be celebrating New Year's in July!"
"But what is it?"
The sound of a sharp, piercing smile. "Everyone is welcome at Westwood, sir. If you have a problem with that, come see me after services. We'll grab a coffee."
Silence. A click, and the audio file ends.
The following morning, at the recommendation of Site Director Thosman, Dr. Hutt did indeed attend service at Westwood and approached Ms. Cavler afterwards. The two then left for Wallsocket Coffee House, a local diner, for further discussion. Hutt kept a recording of the conversation in full and forwarded it to Site Director Thosman later that day.
Relevant audio file attached.
- Now Playing...
The sound of coffee being poured and dishes clinking into each other, idle chatter bleeding into itself in the background. Muffled, in the distance, the occasional sound of a car driving by and the lonely chittering of a stray bird.
Then, April's voice. Pleasant, friendly, but distinctly lower than before. She's tired. "Hello again, Dr. Hutt."
Dr. Hutt's voice. Also tired, but in the way of having only slept a few hours, rather than having not slept at all. "Ms. Cavler."
"April."
"Ms. Cavler. …Have you been up since midnight?"
The skirt of a chair scraping across the floor, and the 'pumph' of a person falling into their seat. "That's bein' a preacher! My whole work week is packed into the weekend." A gentle sip of hot black coffee.
"At midnight, though?"
Another sip. "Sometimes."
Fingers tapping against wood. "…I noticed something. When you were there last night, you said you were finished 'putting everything away.'"
Sound of a coffee cup being placed on a table.
Dr. Hutt goes on - "And I was looking around this morning, trying to find what was in the auditorium that wasn't there last night. And I found it. About six or so crosses."
"Seven, actually. Three on the North wall, three on the South, one on the podium."
"Uh-huh. And I'm wondering, you know, what kind of church event requires the crosses to be put away?"
Silence. Even the idle chatter in the background seems quieter.
"I think I see where this conversation is going."
"It's not going anywhere. I'm just asking questions."
"Yeah, yeah, everyone's 'just asking questions' until they're not." A sigh. The creaking of a chair as April leans forward, and, in a more hushed tone, says, "You want to know what's really going on in Eschar?"
"I do."
Shuffling as April looks to her left, then to her right, then back at Dr. Hutt. "Okay, here's what's really going on. We're a small town in the middle of a big forest. We have a church, a farm, a diner, a grocers, and a clinic. Everyone here works at one of them and visits the other four. We all know each other, and our kids all know each other. We have service on Sundays and a fish fry on Tuesdays. There's a hundred towns just like us in this part of the state.
And sometimes, sometimes, somebody comes in and notices someone acting a little strange. Staying up too late, or eating an unfamiliar food, or talking in a way they don't understand. And sometimes, when that happens, that person gets… ideas."
"Ideas."
"Someone looks out into the dark and decides that the shapes they see look like a threat. And if that person decides to take action about it, well. That's about the only way trouble ever comes around here."
The idle chatter around the diner has turned to idle whispers.
Dr. Hutt's chair creaks. "Ms. Cavler,"
"April."
"Ms. Cavler, I'm going to be very blunt. I need you to tell me whether you believe you are in danger here."
A sharp exhale. "Not until just now, no."
"I need you to tell me whether you've seen anything out of the ordinary in this town."
"I don't think I've ever seen anything in the ordinary, period. Have you?"
"Ms. Cavler."
"My name is April."
A sigh. The scrape of a chair as Dr. Hutt inches back in his seat. The silent stillness of coffee going cold. "Look. I understand that you don't trust me, and may not trust outsiders in general. I can understand that. But we're both fighting the same battle here. We are locked in a war against the forces that make our world broken. I don't need to say it; you know what they are."
"Egg on your face, but that fight's already been won. A couple thousand years ago, so I've read."
"If you were in my line of work, you wouldn't think so."
"If you were in my line of work, you would. We're at an impasse."
Dr. Hutt groans in frustration. "I'm trying to say, if something is wrong in this town, I can help."
"I'm sure you think so. If you want my advice? Next time you see something in the dark and you're not sure what it is, assume that you're much more likely to hurt it than it is to hurt you. And if you want to know how to best help me? Stop making poorly-veiled accusations about my church. Now then-" a creak and a pop as April stands - "this was a nice talk, but I'm sure we both have wives to get home to. You don't have to stay for the evening service."
"You have a wife."
"That's what I said."
Three disapproving vocal clicks and the subtle shift of a head turning to look out a window. "Some town."
An audible glare. "Please don't stay for the evening service."
Footsteps trailing off into the distance, and the audio ends.
Site Director Thosman concurred that Dr. Hutt had found sufficient evidence of anomalous activity in Eschar to warrent further action. On 7/29/25, Special Task Force US-2-7 was deployed in part to Eschar and instructed to search for concrete evidence of vampirism. That night, the first proven instance of SCP-9302 was discovered.
While securing the instance, Dr. Hutt and two US-2-7 agents were encountered by April Cavler and her wife, Erica Cavler. The containment of the SCP-9302 instance was successful despite the encounter.
Relevant audio file attached.
- Now Playing...
"What the hell are you doing?"
Dr. Hutt laughs heartily. Beside him, something is rattling in restraints. "Good evening to you too, Ms. Cavler. And you must be her so-called wife!"
"So-called?"
"Where are you taking her?," Erica asks, fear and rage tearing the seams of her voice.
"Where she belongs, ma'am."
"She hasn't done anything, doctor. She hasn't hurt anyone," April protests.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Is this 'person' part of your congregation, Ms. Cavler? Is she part of your community? Does she go to your service on Sundays and fish fry on Tuesdays?"
"Her name is Ruth Anderson. She is a friend. Let her go, Dr. Hutt. Please."
"Maybe we should find out what God thinks of your friends first, shouldn't we?" Then, swift and careless, the sound of a weapon being drawn.
"…Where did you get that."
"Property of my employers, Ms. Cavler. And it's the real thing, too. Carved in the year 1200 from a shard of the True Cross. And since your friend is so strong in the faith, I'm sure she'd love to have a closer look at it."
The rattling of restraints. Ruth faintly muttering something indistinct and afraid.
April - "No. No."
Erica - "Keep that thing away from her."
Dr. Hutt - "Is there a problem? It's only a crucifix."
An arm extending outwards, and a soud like crisping leaves and boiling mud. A hiss, and then a scream.
Erica, again - "Keep. That thing. Away from her."
"This is what she is, ladies. This is what the cross is for. This is what your church should be for. This is the battle that's being fought. You could never understand that. You've never even tried."
"Stop. Dr. Hutt, you're killing her."
Another hearty laugh. "Finally, Ms. Cavler, you can see what's right in front of you!"
Running footsteps. The sound of another hand reaching for the cross. Growling, Erica's voice, repeating, "Let her go."
"Stay back, miss. Stay out of this."
Struggling. April taking one step back, then two forward. A cross, being pushed and pulled. April reaching out for only a second, before-
Wood snaps.
Hissing stops.
Another weapon is drawn.
Gunshot.
A body falls to the floor.
The vampire gasps. April screams.
Dr. Hutt holsters his one intact weapon. "I didn't want to do that."
Running, and then falling. The sound of something being shaken. Between gasps and screams - "No," then "Erica. Erica, open your eyes," then "No. God, no. God, no," and finally, an indecipherable melded blend of words and tears.
"You made this messy. You didn't have to get involved."
"What have you done?," Ruth asks, quietly.
"You shouldn't be talking at all."
April wails, deep and gutteral, from her entire chest.
The sound of a hug that is not being returned.
Dr. Hutt turning to someone behind him. "Bring the vampire to her cell. Sedate Ms. Cavler and bring her back to her home," he commands, "under supervision."
Audio ends.
From there, SCP-9302 was formally acknowledged as an anomalous entity, and containment efforts began in full.
Initial Containment Efforts: Keeping in mind the extent of SCP-9302's integration within Eschar, Special Task Force US-2-7 was deployed the following week to enact sweeping containment protocols. Dr. Hutt instructed US-2-7 to seperate the vampire and human population, then transport the vampire population to Site-20 and amnesticize the entirety of the human population. Site Director Thosman warned task force agents in advance that both groups may offer resistance, and instructed them to minimize harm to human civilians whenever possible.
Once US-2-7 arrived in full, the town of Eschar was fenced in and locked off with temporary guard stations, civilian communication with the outside was severed, and the blood donation clinic was demolished. Civilians were informed that US-2-7 were a government agency, that they had been tasked with the removal of the local vampire population, and that neither vampire nor human civilians would be harmed if they cooperated. Some human civilians did indeed cooperate, and some vampire civilians willingly offered themselves for containment. However, most human civilians in Eschar either refused to the locations and identities of vampires, denied the existence of vampires outright, or, either intentionally or unintentionally, provided blatant misinformation.
Attached are two relevant audio files. One is a local radio broadcast of a sermon delivered by April Cavler. The other is a surveillance recording from Cavler's home that night.
- Now Playing...
"Tonight, we worship in desperation. We are scattered, hunkered in our homes, hiding in caves and crawlspaces, waiting for danger to pass. I never thought we would find ourselves in times like these. I'm proud of us for how we're seeing them through.
Erica and I always- Erica and I would always have the same conversation, when I would read the news and saw something that made me feel hopeless. She would say, 'remember who's in control.'
And I would tell her, you know, that doesn't actually make me feel any better. I know who's in control. He's been in control for all of human history, and that hasn't stopped people from dying or wars from happening or sicknesses from spreading.
But… we, all of us here, worship a God who died. And so our hope isn't that bad things don't happen. Our hope isn't that nobody ever dies. Our hope is that death isn't the last thing. That after the bad things do happen, we heal.
Erica is gone. I will wait a lifetime to see her again. If our visitors have their way, I will wait a lifetime to see many of the people I love most. But I will not wait for nothing. I- I refuse to wait for nothing.
Our service tonight can't be held in-person safely. I don't know if it ever will be again, at least not in Eschar. But we will be together again. And we will pray and cry and sing, and eventually, we will heal.
That is where my hope is. May it be where your hope is, too.
Now, the suits have torn down our donation clinic, I think trying to starve the vampires out. Any humans listening - do not try to draw your own blood at home. You're not going to be of any help to anybody if you go and get yourself an infection.
We've got enough reserves and animal blood to last another week or so. We need to spend our time until then figuring out how safely to keep our friends from starving. I've heard from many vampires already saying they absolutely do not want to see humans offering to let themselves be turned because of all of this. And… I've heard from even more humans offering to be turned if the situation calls for it. Now, that's not a real solution. If all of us turn, the suits aren't going to have any reason left not to just take us all away. But if you at home listening do decide to let someone bite you, make sure to do it safely. Get rid of garlic, crosses, and silver before you turn, not after. Try to leave it all in a place the suits can't find it. And remember, new vampires can last a little longer in sunlight, but it still burns. And this goes without saying, but sunscreen won't help.
Stay safe, siblings. If you can't stay safe, stay hopeful, and remember who's in control.
I love all of you. More importantly, God loves all of you. We are together in that love, even when we are apart in physical space.
Goodnight, Eschar."
- Now Playing...
"You better have a plan here!"
a gasp, and then, sobbing, violent and uncontrolled.
"You better know what you're doing! You better have a reason for this!"
The sound of April clawing at her own face, screaming, cursing.
"What's wrong with you?"
An inhale that takes in no air.
"What's wrong with me?"
April falling into her bed and creaking the frame.
"God. Lord. I… can't keep preaching like this. I can't keep trying to give hope when I don't have any to give. Are you there, God?"
April sitting up, immediately laying back down, then sitting up again.
"I don't understand. I don't understand why this is happening. I don't understand why you've let this happen. But we're both here, and I need you, and you need me, so if this is all your way of punishing the people you made for being a reflection of what you are, well, Lord, we've all got an eternity together for you to fucking FIGURE IT OUT!"
A fist colliding with a pillow. A gasp, a wail, and a scream muffled by a mattress.
"…Please. God, please. I… I thought I knew what this was about. I thought I always did. 'Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.' That was it. That was all there needed to be. That's how I knew everything would be okay. And it doesn't look like everything's going to be okay anymore."
"I still love you. I still need you. I can't stop myself from needing you; it's. You're the the only thing that's ever made me feel like I don't have to be afraid."
"And now. Erica is gone. The clinic is gone, this whole town… And. I'm afraid again. I'm actually afraid again."
Two breaths in, followed by three breaths out. "Are you there? Do you care?"
Sobbing.
Silence.
"God, if you're really Dr. Hutt's God… well, then I'm not going where I thought I was going. None of us are. I think maybe that's okay. If I'm with Erica, it's okay. Who knows, maybe we'll find the God we've been worshipping down there, too."
A sound wry and joyless. "If a certain story about a furnace is to be believed, He's very good at getting people out of fires."
A single breath in and out, played in staccato. "Ah. ah."
A sniffle. "Oh, um. In Jesus' name, Amen."
Following Cavler's broadcast, Eschar's local radio station was shut down by US-2-7. Cavler then, of her own volition, suspended Westwood St. Church of Christ Sunday services indefinitely.
On 8/22/25, with SCP-9302 containment efforts reaching an end, an amnesticization order was given for all human residents of Eschar.
The town of Eschar was found entirely abandoned the following day, with many of its buildings damaged or destroyed. It is not known how the attempt at amnesticization failed, how containment was breached, or what became of Special Task Force US-2-7. Only one recording of the event remained, believed to have been left behind intentionally on the part of SCP-9302.
Relevant audio file attached.
- Now Playing...
A hand knocking on a door, and then, before the words 'come in' have the chance to be said, the creak of a door opening regardless.
The crackling spine of a leather-bound bible.
April's voice. "One man thinks one day is more important than another. Another man thinks every day is the same. Every man must be sure in his own mind."
"Ms. Cavler. It's time to go."
"No one lives for himself alone. No one dies for himself alone. If we live, it is for the Lord. If we die, it is for the Lord. If we live or die, we belong to the Lord."
"Come on, Ms. Cavler."
"Christ died and lived again. This is why He is the Lord of the living and of the dead."
An impatient exhale.
"Why do you try to say your Christian brother is right or wrong? Why do you hate your Christian brother?"
"Are you done?"
"Christ has made me know that everything in itself is clean." The sound of a book closing. "Yeah, I'm done. I assume you caught the last one."
"He was… here. In the church, just under the awning. Pretending to pray."
"That's an interesting way to phrase it. And I'm guessing now you want to tie up loose ends?"
"I don't want to hurt you, Ms. Cavler."
"Really."
"Alright. I want to hurt you. My employers do not."
"Hasn't stopped you before." A chair creaking as April stands. "Okay, then. Let's get this over with. Where are we going?"
"Just outside. We have some last questions for you, and then you'll be free to go. You'll be back with your church before you know it."
"That's what I'm hoping."
Footsteps on wood, then carpet, then wood again, echoing down a long hallway. Outside, muffled, a mix of voices, and the sound of tents being taken down.
"Sounds like all your friends out there are ready to move on to the next town, huh?"
A slight nod. "We've… been here longer than we usually are."
"Must make you feel a little bad for the people you're leaving behind, right?"
"You're all better off for it."
"You gutted us. Half our town is gone now, and we were a tiny town to begin with. You do know what happens next, right? Eschar dies."
A sigh. "That's how cutting out a cancer works. Someday maybe you'll see that."
A hand on a doorknob. A deep breath in, and a deep breath out. "You won't get away with this," April says, sounding less like a threat than a statement of fact.
"Move."
A door opening, footsteps going from wood to grass, and then, out of nowhere, something sizzling.
The sound of April exhaling through her teeth as smoke pours off her skin. "Haha. Wow, sun's hot today, isn't it?"
Dr. Hutt placing a hand on a gun. "Wh- but. You're not a vampire."
"I wasn't. But you wouldn't let yourself get this close to any of the others."
A sound like a viper striking.
A scream of shock that slides into a scream of pain.
The sound of a hand trying to pull out a gun and missing.
A punch.
Someone falling to her knees, breathing heavy, wiping her shirt sleeve on her chin.
Someone else turning and running, heavy footsteps on grass, stopping just before they reach wood.
"Why… Why can't I go back in!?"
"Sorry, buddy. You can't invite yourself anymore."
Weakly, desperately—"April."
April standing, skin singed to an audible crisp. Someone screaming, "open fire!," then a gunshot, which is ignored.
A lunge. A bite. A shove.
More gunshots. Ignored.
A lunge. A bite. A shove.
The sound of sizzling skin growing louder, and multiplying.
Screaming. Running. Lunges. Bites. Shoves.
Fire.
A harsh, electronic beep, and the audio cuts out.
- ...
Out in a forgotten corner of the forests in Southeastern Tennessee, under a full moon, candles are lit, and three stones are laid at the foot of a hill.
On the first, the name "ERICA CAVLER" is carved.
On the second, "APRIL CAVLER".
And on the third, "TOM HUTT AND US-2-7," written with noticably less enthusiasm.
Around the stones, a church gathers. Some of its members human, most not.
Together, they pray and cry and sing.
On the other side of the hill, a lone Foundation operative is stationed, surveilling the area. He is not a believer.
He notices a hymn being called out into the distance, and, just as quickly, decides that he doesn't.