rating: +37+x

Date: Feb. 10, 1994

Interviewer: Dr. Cassidy Clanger

Interviewee: Ms. Dahlia Soros


Dr. Clanger: […] That should be all, Mrs. Soros. Thank you again for your time.

Ms. Soros: No, no, none on me. At my age, my two best friends are Pat Sajak and Bob Barker. It's nice to have someone who responds to me.

Dr. Clanger: If you have any questions, call my number. [Dr. Clanger takes out a small notepad and a pen and begins writing.] Consider this a token of gratitude for the interview.

Ms. Soros: Oh, you-

[Ms. Soros pauses. Dr. Clanger finishes her note.]

Dr. Clanger: I may not respond within the hour, but I'll make time to get back to you. I always return a fa-

Ms. Soros: You.

Dr. Clanger: Pardon, Mrs. Soros?

Ms. Soros: Why can't I… place you…

Dr. Clanger: Forgive me, Mrs. Soros, you might be confusing-

Ms. Soros: No, no, I'm sorry. You- you look like someone I knew a long time ago.

Dr. Clanger: … tell me more.

Ms. Soros: She was so pretty, just like you. She had these eyes you could stare at for hours. You could fall into them like dark pools. She never looked back at you, though.

Dr. Clanger: Was she a companion of yours?

Ms. Soros: She came a few times. I guess she liked me well enough. She gazed out the window while I made her soup. She told me about an Irish boy she loved. [Mrs. Soros' eyes widen.] Eva McDoyle! You look just like her… I'm sorry.

Dr. Clanger: Don't apologize, Mrs. Soros; it's no concern.

Ms. Soros: She… she died in '34. Was it a Wednesday or a Thursday? She got into trouble. The law caught up to her.

Dr. Clanger: That's terrible. I'm sorry for your loss.

Ms. Soros: It's alright. I got to meet her one last time after.

[Dr. Clanger grabs a notepad and pen once more.]

Dr. Clanger: After she passed?

Ms. Soros: … Did you say "passed"?

Dr. Clanger: Yes, passed. I… sorry, I must have misheard you.

Ms. Soros: Don't worry. All I mean is that we had a brief goodbye. She came to the house and said farewell; she gazed at the dark woods behind the house. She left before I could say something other than "goodbye." That was the last time I saw her before she died.

Dr. Clanger: … Mrs. Soros, when did Ms. McDoyle die?



The only known photograph of Ms. Eva McDoyle.

Item #: SCP-7433

Object Class: Euclid

Special Containment Procedures: Due to the anomaly's localized nature, HMCL supervisor Dr. Cassidy Clanger has implemented low-priority disinformation protocols regarding SCP-7433: all references to SCP-7433's survival after her murder should be discredited as myths. Documentation regarding SCP-7433 should be transferred to Site-44's Archival Wing. The whereabouts of Ms. Eva McDoyle are unknown.

Description: SCP-7433 is Eva McDoyle, an American chorus girl and wanted murderer. According to written accounts in newspapers, police reports, and Ms. McDoyle’s tombstone, SCP-7433 was shot by local police from Raywood, Arkansas, on March 1st, 1934, at 2:53 AM. See the following extract, taken from the local Arkansas Advance newspaper on the day of SCP-7433's death, provided by the Department of Mythology and Folkloristics:


This morning, the former star performed her last dance. After two months on the run from law enforcement, the brave men from little old Raywood took down Eva McDoyle, killer of bank teller Jacob Carlyle and perpetrator of numerous assaults, robberies, and murders. Fearful Arkansans from Fayetteville to Fort Smith spotted the larger-than-life outlaw, known for her vicious attacks with farming tools. The woman skewered poor Carlyle, her fiancé, with a pitchfork.

Now Arkansas may fear no more: the criminal fell face-first onto the Raywood dirt with four holes in her back. "Folks can stop with the reports now," police commissioner David Querel told reporters. "Any minute spent on this dead case is one not spent on live crime."

Raywood police spotted a man wearing an Irish cap and overalls having a one-to-one with the killer before dashing into the night. Knowledgeable citizens are encouraged to pitch in any tidbits they may have about this person.

Ms. McDoyle died at the scene.

Despite this, all oral testimony attests to SCP-7433 surviving past this date; Raywood citizens insist Ms. McDoyle died of pneumonia on May 13th, 1944. They do not acknowledge the contradiction between the two supposed deaths.

Dr. Cassidy Clanger inadvertently discovered SCP-7433 while investigating another anomaly in the area. After preliminary examinations of other Raywood citizens, Dr. Clanger organized several interviews regarding SCP-7433 with relevant individuals.

Addendum 7433-1: Interviews

Date: Feb. 16, 1994

Interviewer: Dr. Cassidy Clanger

Interviewee: Mr. David Querel


Mr. Querel: Twirly? That's a name I haven't heard in fifty years. [laughs] You got a hunch or something? An explanation? Corruption scandal? If this is televised, I want to know what I'm getting into.1

Dr. Clanger: In reality, sir, I have more questions than answers. Of course, we know about her murder spree, but-

[Mr. Querel cackles.]

Dr. Clanger: I'm sorry?

Mr. Querel: Sorry, ma'am, I just… most folks know nothing about this girl. Zip. The mouthbreathers of Arkansas couldn't tell a perpetrator from a crop cultivator. They attributed any old thing to the girl. And if she did hurt a farmer or two, it was probably in self-defense. But, the public loved a fiery female.

[Mr. Querel sighs.]

Mr. Querel: But what do I know? That was all outside my jurisdiction. I'm reporting what I heard, is all. Her reputation surpassed her actions. God knows jack happens in Raywood.

Dr. Clanger: Am I led to believe she didn't skewer her partner with a pitchfork?

Mr. Querel: … As far as I know, that happened. Maybe not with the gruesome motion picture details, but it happened, body and all. Folks probably conflated that murder with all the others happening then. The boys figured it was a standard case: man goes downtown with another girl, partner gets suspicious, blam. But we never found a motive. Just a paper note in a pool of blood.

Dr. Clanger: What did the note say?

Mr. Querel: Completely illegible.

Dr. Clanger: Well, why did you kill her if you thought she was largely framed?

Mr. Querel: I never said she was innocent. Just know we did what we had to do. It was public hysteria, ma'am. In the public's eyes, an accusation was as concrete as cold evidence. They would've killed her if not for us. If you ask me… we put her out of her misery. Imagine her, cold and hungry and barely scraping by with the help of ignorant or benevolent strangers. Poor Twirly.

Dr. Clanger: Did you see her after the shoot-out?

[Mr. Querel stares at Dr. Clanger.]

Mr. Querel: … Why, yes. Yes, I did. She crept beneath the shadows of the buildings across the station. I don't think she remembered where she was going. She tried to keep out of our sight, but I saw her anyway. Clear as a spring morning. She kept her eyes away from mine, but I ran up and grabbed her by the collar. Twirly looked dirtier than a pair of farmer's shoes. I just stared at her with my mouth open, but the only words came out of her mouth: "Where's Dolly?" And somehow, all I could do was point her in the right direction.

Dr. Clanger: Ms. Soros?

Mr. Querel: Yes, if that's her name. That was before Twirly died of pneumonia. I do not know how many more she saw.


Date: Feb. 17, 1994

Interviewer: Dr. Cassidy Clanger

Interviewee: Mrs. Angela Rosa


Mrs. Rosa: Eva McDoyle? You conjure memories sweet and sour, Mrs. Clanger.

Dr. Clanger: How did you know her?

Mrs. Rosa: She visited a few times. Always grateful for my food, which I can't say for other people here. [Mrs. Rosa laughs.]

Dr. Clanger: She was a regular, then.

Mrs. Rosa: Eva was consistent. At three in the morning, I would see a figure creeping among our crops, keeping a low profile. I knew that was her. I could never let her in by day; my husband would kill me. [laughs] She always creaked open the door and scanned the kitchen for people, but it was always me in the corner. She would eat my Mole de Olla and stare into the bowl. I offered her to dance because I knew she could, but she never took me up on it. Her eyes… looked like black stones in the snow. You cannot dance without looking at the eyes.

Dr. Clanger: Did you know anyone else who knew her?

Mrs. Rosa: You know Dolly, yes?

Dr. Clanger: I met her a couple of days ago.

Mrs. Rosa: She is so nice, no?

Dr. Clanger: I don't know her personally, but I enjoyed our time. She seemed rather lonely.

Mrs. Rosa: We were all so lonely in those times: so wrapped up in ourselves and our conditions. I ran a flower shop back then. Have you ever thought about how much work goes into a flower shop?

Dr. Clanger: A lot of work, presumably.

Mrs. Rosa: My husband fertilized the fields; I fertilized the flowers. But I think Eva gave relief from that. I had so few people to really talk to. Eva gave me company, even if she didn't stay for long.

Dr. Clanger: Did you know what she had done?

Mrs. Rosa: At first, I feared her. Mama always told me legends as a girl about la Llorona, and I think those bedside stories rubbed off on me as I aged. The story varied so much over time; it seemed like that woman was guilty of everything. But there was more behind the myths than the younger me thought. A person can be scary and sympathetic. Eva scared everyone, and everyone cared for Eva.

Dr. Clanger: When was the last time you saw her?

Mrs. Rosa: She came to my house at the usual time, maybe 1944. I asked who she had visited. Dolly, Old Benny, Ruth, me. Except for Dolly and me, everyone has moved on to another world. But she had one more person to visit.

Dr. Clanger: A man?

Mrs. Rosa: … A man.


Date: Feb. 20, 1994

Interviewer: Dr. Cassidy Clanger

Interviewee: Mr. Charles Walsh


[Dr. Clanger walks into Mr. Walsh's room. Mr. Walsh looks up from reading a newspaper and quickly rises from his seat.]

Dr. Clanger: I apologize if I startled you.

Mr. Walsh: No… I'm sorry, you just…

Dr. Clanger: Look like someone you knew?

Mr. Walsh: Yes. How did you know?

Dr. Clanger: I want to ask you about Eva McDoyle.

Mr. Walsh: Look I'm… I'm sorry, but I can't do this right now. I know we scheduled and all, but-

Dr. Clanger: It's perfectly fine. We can talk at a better time. I can give you my number. [Dr. Clanger begins pulling out a notepad.]

Mr. Walsh: Wait, wait. I can do this. What do you want to know?

Dr. Clanger: Is that your hat on the wall?

[Dr. Clanger gestures to a flat cap hanging on an adjacent wall. Mr. Walsh turns to the cap]

Mr. Walsh: So long ago…

Dr. Clanger: Mr. Walsh, what were you doing on March 1st, 1934?

Mr. Walsh: Listen. We had met before. Of course, Ev had met with everybody, but we saw each other more often than anyone. You wouldn't believe the number of times she slept in my attic. The times we shared our meager foods and ate off the same small plate. She talked to me about her life. I guess we had something in common.

Dr. Clanger: Did she talk about what she had done?

Mr. Walsh: She felt as if she were shrouded in an opaque black fog of grief and regret. She didn't know why she killed Jacob, but she knew she hurt many innocent people. A string of blood, Ev said. She just wanted to live normally again, without a tabloid name. Without the cloud of crimes she committed… and those she hadn't.

Dr. Clanger: She could never live normally, though.

Mr. Walsh: When the voice of Commissioner Querel echoed in the street, Ev pulled me aside on the sidewalk. She couldn't stop glancing at the street corner. She told me that everything would be okay; that life would go on just as normal the next night. She looked over her shoulder and saw the shadows closing in. She faced away from me and yelled "Run!"

Dr. Clanger: You ran.

Mr. Walsh: And the next night… nothing changed. And it was natural. Nothing to question. We would continue seeing each other for the next ten years.

Dr. Clanger: Until she said goodbye.

[Mr. Walsh rubs his eyes.]

Mr. Walsh: Ev pushes the door open and embraces me. I try to console her: I stroke her hair and rock her, but she won't stop crying. I ask her the problem. And for the first time… for the first time, she looks at me. Her eyes can't look at anything but me. I fall into the inky waters of her eyes and sink into the abyss. Monsters fill the abyss, but a hole shines at the bottom, like a photonegative of her eyes. I fall through the hole. She says that she loves me.

Dr. Clanger: That she loves you?

Mr. Walsh: That she loves me.

Dr. Clanger: And what does she really say?

Mr. Walsh: … She says, "I have to go."

[The clocks strike. A gust of wind fills the room.]

Dr. Clanger: How do you know she died of pneumonia?

Mr. Walsh: I told people that. But I don't know if she is dead at all.


Addendum 7433-2: Incident

On March 1st, 1994, a Foundation webcrawler noted a reference to anomalous phenomena on a cemetery interment database. A response team rushed to the Raywood Baptist Church Cemetery. They found the gravestone of Mr. Charles Walsh, who had died eight days prior. Mr. Walsh's flat cap laid against the stone; a small note sat inside the cap.

Rain rendered the note illegible.

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