WEBVTT Kind: captions Language: en 00:00:00.240 --> 00:00:06.040 The Agent hides under the table as three  nightmarish, warped legs stomp wetly past   00:00:06.040 --> 00:00:13.000 him - all belonging to the same creature. A  creature that had once been a human being.   00:00:13.000 --> 00:00:18.440 Each step makes a moist slapping sound  on the tiled floor of the laboratory. 00:00:18.440 --> 00:00:23.480 The lights went out long ago - Back when  the facility was first compromised. His   00:00:23.480 --> 00:00:30.160 eyes have adjusted, though seeing some of those  things make him wish he hadn’t. He ponders how   00:00:30.160 --> 00:00:35.280 many of those monsters are wandering  the hallways, lurking in dark rooms. 00:00:35.280 --> 00:00:40.880 But he can’t think about that right now. All  he can try to do is remember how many shots he   00:00:40.880 --> 00:00:48.640 fired earlier - Does his Sig Sauer sidearm still  have six bullets in the magazine, or only three? 00:00:48.640 --> 00:00:53.600 In a high-stakes situation like this, those  numbers matter. As the monster passes out   00:00:53.600 --> 00:01:00.120 of his range of vision, still hunting, he sees a  drooping, fleshy limb drag along the floor behind   00:01:00.120 --> 00:01:04.600 it. He counts himself lucky that the  scar tissue has already grown over the   00:01:04.600 --> 00:01:10.600 creature’s eyes. It can’t seem to smell him,  either. This might be his chance to escape. 00:01:10.600 --> 00:01:14.600 With the practiced dexterity of his physical  training, he slides out from underneath the   00:01:14.600 --> 00:01:21.480 table and assesses his environment. There’s only  one of those… Things in here. It’s stomping across   00:01:21.480 --> 00:01:26.120 the other side of the room, mercifully  cast in shadow. He doesn’t want to count   00:01:26.120 --> 00:01:31.720 the limbs. He just wants to get out of here  and complete the mission; collect his prize. 00:01:31.720 --> 00:01:36.640 But as he turns to creep out, another headache  strikes him. It hits with such force that his   00:01:36.640 --> 00:01:42.800 jaw locks up, and it takes everything in him  not to scream. Instead, he squeezes the grip   00:01:42.800 --> 00:01:49.600 of his Sig Sauer and prays for salvation. He  needs to get out of here. He needs to survive. 00:01:49.600 --> 00:01:55.680 As though the universe is answering his prayer,  the headache subsides as quickly as it came on.   00:01:55.680 --> 00:02:03.160 He breathes a silent sigh of relief and takes a  step forward… onto a discarded glass test tube. 00:02:03.160 --> 00:02:04.600 Crunch. 00:02:04.600 --> 00:02:08.640 The creature jerks towards him, looking  with what might have once been its face.   00:02:08.640 --> 00:02:13.040 He’s been spotted. He knows it.  All hell is about to break loose. 00:02:13.040 --> 00:02:17.280 To most, this mission would have been  a nightmare. But if you can believe it,   00:02:17.280 --> 00:02:20.680 the Agent had enthusiastically volunteered. 00:02:20.680 --> 00:02:25.120 This job will either destroy his life… Or save it. 00:02:25.120 --> 00:02:27.120 Flash back a month. 00:02:27.120 --> 00:02:31.480 It didn’t begin in a compromised Foundation  containment site. It didn’t begin in the   00:02:31.480 --> 00:02:37.240 briefing room, or the helicopter en route. It  started in a doctor’s office - Where a promising   00:02:37.240 --> 00:02:43.800 young agent of the SCP Foundation receives  an awful diagnosis: Stage four cancer. An   00:02:43.800 --> 00:02:50.280 inoperable brain tumor - indicated by headaches,  disordered thought, and mild seizures. Even by   00:02:50.280 --> 00:02:55.240 their most optimistic estimations, he  doesn’t have north of a year to live. 00:02:55.240 --> 00:03:00.160 All the monsters and maniacs he’s encountered  in the field, and it’s some faulty genetics   00:03:00.160 --> 00:03:05.960 that sentences him to death. What a sick  joke. And the punchline? He’s got a pregnant   00:03:05.960 --> 00:03:11.600 wife he’s about to widow, and an unborn  child who’s going to grow up fatherless. 00:03:11.600 --> 00:03:16.320 They throw him a condolences party at Site-19.  The Site Director comforts him with the fact   00:03:16.320 --> 00:03:20.560 that his hefty Foundation life insurance  policy will still apply if he dies of natural   00:03:20.560 --> 00:03:27.000 causes - So his family will be taken care of. He’s  as grateful as he can be, under the circumstances,   00:03:27.000 --> 00:03:32.480 but none of it dulls the low ache that  stays with him every moment of every day. 00:03:32.480 --> 00:03:38.240 The inexorable fact: He’s going to die,  and there’s nothing he can do about it. 00:03:38.240 --> 00:03:39.800 …Or is there? 00:03:39.800 --> 00:03:43.720 A few weeks after his diagnosis, he’s once  again called into the office by his site   00:03:43.720 --> 00:03:49.320 director. They’ve got a special mission - One  befitting of someone in his circumstances:   00:03:49.320 --> 00:03:53.600 A dedicated and loyal dead man walking.  They’ve received intelligence from a   00:03:53.600 --> 00:03:58.520 Foundation research facility in the Nevada  Desert where things have gone FUBAR. 00:03:58.520 --> 00:04:02.400 A few days earlier, they intercepted  a distress signal. Something about an   00:04:02.400 --> 00:04:06.520 anomalous pathogen breaking loose during  an experiment, but the person sending the   00:04:06.520 --> 00:04:12.800 signal didn’t live long enough to specify what  anomaly they were dealing with. Figures. But   00:04:12.800 --> 00:04:16.480 there had been no further contact from  the site since the first transmission,   00:04:16.480 --> 00:04:20.520 so they had every reason to believe  that the site was essentially lost. 00:04:20.520 --> 00:04:25.600 The Agent asks his superior if it’s an extraction  mission. The site director solemnly shakes his   00:04:25.600 --> 00:04:30.800 head, commenting that anyone still left  in that site is better off dead by now. 00:04:30.800 --> 00:04:35.240 No, this mission is of a different nature  entirely: The Agent needs to get in there,   00:04:35.240 --> 00:04:40.120 manually activate the site’s emergency nuclear  warhead, and escape the detonation zone before   00:04:40.120 --> 00:04:45.960 the site and the fifteen square miles  around it are reduced to irradiated rubble. 00:04:45.960 --> 00:04:51.640 This isn’t a mission. It’s a death wish. He’s  ready to reject it - His time is already short,   00:04:51.640 --> 00:04:53.480 he doesn’t want to spend the remainder of it dying   00:04:53.480 --> 00:04:58.840 in a plague-ridden hell hole. But that’s  when the Site Director makes his offer. 00:04:58.840 --> 00:05:04.200 “I’m willing to make a special exception here,  agent. Because of your condition, and the highly   00:05:04.200 --> 00:05:09.400 sensitive nature of this assignment, I’m going  to give you one-time access to a unique incentive   00:05:09.400 --> 00:05:16.640 structure: if you’re able to complete this mission  as directed, I’ll give you a dose of SCP-500.” 00:05:16.640 --> 00:05:23.280 That gets the agent’s attention. SCP-500,  also known as The Panacea, is a small pill   00:05:23.280 --> 00:05:29.880 bottle containing anomalous medicine capable of  curing anything. Literally anything. From rabies   00:05:29.880 --> 00:05:34.800 to smallpox to the common cold to…  Well, an inoperable brain tumor. 00:05:34.800 --> 00:05:38.560 It’s a simple decision now.  The Agent has to say yes. 00:05:38.560 --> 00:05:43.400 Flash forward to the belly of the RAH-66  Comanche Stealth Helicopter, where the   00:05:43.400 --> 00:05:48.120 Agent is being given his loadout by the Handler  en route to the clandestine site. He’s given a   00:05:48.120 --> 00:05:54.480 SIG SAUER P320 Nitron Compact handgun with a few  magazines worth of ammo, some light body armor,   00:05:54.480 --> 00:06:00.120 and a Dracarys Gen-12 12-gauge shotgun  with Dragon’s Breath incendiary rounds. 00:06:00.120 --> 00:06:05.680 The Handler assures him that whatever is in there,  it doesn’t like fire. Though he should only engage   00:06:05.680 --> 00:06:10.720 in combat as an emergency measure - If he was  exposed to the pathogen that ravaged the base,   00:06:10.720 --> 00:06:15.680 his superiors would consider him lost,  and send someone else to do the job. 00:06:15.680 --> 00:06:18.320 Comforting to know, the Agent thinks. 00:06:18.320 --> 00:06:23.280 It takes them a couple hours to reach the site -  it’s cordoned off by electric fences - Looking,   00:06:23.280 --> 00:06:28.280 to the untrained eye, like an abandoned  chemical plant. Neither he nor anybody   00:06:28.280 --> 00:06:32.600 else could even guess at the  horrors waiting for him inside. 00:06:32.600 --> 00:06:37.040 Not long after, he rappels down from the  helicopter onto the roof of the facility   00:06:37.040 --> 00:06:41.000 and finds an appropriate entry point - A  ceiling hatch he’s able to pry open with a   00:06:41.000 --> 00:06:46.920 utility knife. There’s only darkness below. He’s  glad that they also gave him a small flashlight,   00:06:46.920 --> 00:06:50.280 as he carefully lowers himself down into the hall. 00:06:50.280 --> 00:06:55.800 There’s no turning back here. Either  he’ll earn back his life, or lose it. 00:06:55.800 --> 00:07:00.520 The Agent is methodical, gripping tight  his Dracarys and maintaining situational   00:07:00.520 --> 00:07:05.640 awareness as he works deeper into the building.  He studied the schematics given to him by the   00:07:05.640 --> 00:07:11.080 Site Director - He knows the layout about as well  as his own childhood home. The manual activation   00:07:11.080 --> 00:07:16.640 panel for the on-site nuclear warhead was in  the basement, so he’d need to work his way down. 00:07:16.640 --> 00:07:22.280 Things seem normal enough at first, aside from  the pervasive air of tension. The fear that   00:07:22.280 --> 00:07:28.080 there might be some horror lurking around every  corner. He’s sweating now. But not just because   00:07:28.080 --> 00:07:34.120 he’s worried - It’s baking hot in there, like  someone had cranked the thermostat up to maximum. 00:07:34.120 --> 00:07:38.200 There was no power for the lights, but  they were still blasting the heater? 00:07:38.200 --> 00:07:42.040 As he gets deeper into the building, he  notices that the very structure of the   00:07:42.040 --> 00:07:48.320 facility is changing. The walls of some rooms  have a strange, fleshy texture. Vein-like   00:07:48.320 --> 00:07:53.760 structures slither across the ceilings.  Desks, lamps, and computers are covered   00:07:53.760 --> 00:07:59.440 in red-raw pustules. It looks like the very rooms  around him are afflicted with a malignant cancer.   00:08:00.080 --> 00:08:04.320 He imagines that the inside of his  brain doesn’t look much different. 00:08:04.320 --> 00:08:08.640 Does whatever pathogen they unleashed in  here even affect the building? This must   00:08:08.640 --> 00:08:11.360 be why they want to blow the whole place sky high… 00:08:11.360 --> 00:08:16.240 His musing is interrupted by a pained whimper down  one of the darkened hallways. He instinctually   00:08:16.240 --> 00:08:23.080 raises his flashlight and sees a limping human  figure advancing down the hall towards him. 00:08:23.080 --> 00:08:25.760 “Help me… Please…” 00:08:25.760 --> 00:08:31.200 He looks sicker than any man the Agent has ever  seen. He’s dressed in the familiar lab coat of a   00:08:31.200 --> 00:08:36.680 Foundation researcher, but his face and hands  have been struck down by the most revolting   00:08:36.680 --> 00:08:43.880 rashes the Agent has ever seen. His skin looks  like a giant, livid scab with pinprick orifices   00:08:43.880 --> 00:08:51.560 for his eyes and mouth. He’s wheezing. The Agent  imagines the inside of his lungs look even worse. 00:08:51.560 --> 00:08:55.440 “Please… You’ve gotta get me out of here…” 00:08:55.440 --> 00:08:58.080 Without warning, the infected man lunges forward,   00:08:58.080 --> 00:09:02.120 trying to close the distance between  himself and the Agent. He’s fast. 00:09:02.120 --> 00:09:07.240 But the Agent’s faster. He raises his Dracarys  and unleashes a Dragon’s Breath round into the   00:09:07.240 --> 00:09:12.560 sick man’s chest, igniting him. He drops  to the ground, screaming and spasming,   00:09:12.560 --> 00:09:17.080 but without a moment’s hesitation, the  Agent fires off another round into his head. 00:09:17.080 --> 00:09:22.360 The infected researcher dies. But  that’s when the real screaming starts. 00:09:22.360 --> 00:09:27.200 Alerted by the sound of the shotgun blasts,  heavy footsteps erupt all around the facility.   00:09:27.200 --> 00:09:32.760 Fleshy and irregular. Visceral. They’re  all zeroing in on the Agent’s location,   00:09:32.760 --> 00:09:37.840 and he needs to move fast if he wants any hope of  getting out of here alive and getting his cure. 00:09:37.840 --> 00:09:41.800 He finds the nearest stairwell, kicks  open the door, and starts descending,   00:09:41.800 --> 00:09:46.120 jumping three steps at a time. There’s a  cacophony of awful sounds from the flights   00:09:46.120 --> 00:09:50.760 above him, but he can’t stop and think  about that. There is only the mission. 00:09:50.760 --> 00:09:54.160 But the inhabitants of the site have other ideas. 00:09:54.160 --> 00:09:58.880 An awful red shape bursts out of a doorway on  the flight below him, freezing the Agent in   00:09:58.880 --> 00:10:03.880 place with sheer horror. It looks like the vague  memory of a person fused with the dumpster behind   00:10:03.880 --> 00:10:12.400 a butcher’s shop. So many limbs - Arms, legs,  tentacles, claws, faces. A fever dream incarnate. 00:10:12.400 --> 00:10:16.880 Of course, the Agent wastes no time in  giving it Hell. He raises his Dracarys   00:10:16.880 --> 00:10:19.280 and unleashes several Dragon’s Breath blasts,   00:10:19.280 --> 00:10:23.520 lighting up the stairwell in brilliant  magnesium flashes and causing the monster   00:10:23.520 --> 00:10:29.320 to scream in horror. But this thing isn’t like  the researcher - it has the power to fight back. 00:10:29.840 --> 00:10:33.840 A flaming tendril shoots forward and wraps  around the shotgun, dragging the weapon out   00:10:33.840 --> 00:10:38.680 of the Agent’s hand before he can react. In  the moment of clarity brought on by the shock,   00:10:38.680 --> 00:10:43.920 he hears that the monsters behind him have  caught up: A legion of horribles, things that   00:10:43.920 --> 00:10:51.000 had once been human in various stages of horrid  mutation. Red guts and dripping pus abound. 00:10:51.000 --> 00:10:55.960 He pulls the SIG SAUER from his holster and opens  fire into the crowd, hoping to buy himself some   00:10:55.960 --> 00:11:01.880 time. There’s a fire exit next to him - And he had  something far worse than fire hot on his heels. 00:11:01.880 --> 00:11:06.560 The Agent bursts through the door and runs as  fast as he possibly can, with the victims of   00:11:06.560 --> 00:11:11.360 the anomalous pathogen trailing quickly behind  him. They don’t seem smart, but there’s enough   00:11:11.360 --> 00:11:15.560 of them that their intelligence doesn’t matter  - He doesn’t have the ammo to kill them all,   00:11:15.560 --> 00:11:20.200 no matter how you slice it. He needs  to lose them, then get to the nuke. 00:11:20.200 --> 00:11:23.800 He finds his way into a lab to wait  out the chase, and we find ourselves   00:11:23.800 --> 00:11:28.920 coming full circle back to the start of our  tale: The Agent, in his attempt to escape,   00:11:28.920 --> 00:11:33.960 has stepped on a test tube and alerted one  of his mutant pursuers to his presence. And,   00:11:33.960 --> 00:11:38.800 in case you were wondering, he did only  have three bullets left in the Sig. 00:11:38.800 --> 00:11:43.160 The monster lets out an ear-piercing shriek  that’s sure to alert all the others and makes   00:11:43.160 --> 00:11:47.520 a sudden dash towards the Agent. He unloads  the remaining few rounds into the monster’s   00:11:47.520 --> 00:11:52.560 center mass and sprints towards the door,  pulling on the fire alarm on the way out. 00:11:52.560 --> 00:11:56.800 In that instant, the alarm starts blaring  all across the building, sending another   00:11:56.800 --> 00:12:01.080 spike of pain through his tumor-infested  head, but at least it’ll make it harder   00:12:01.080 --> 00:12:07.280 for the blind among the monsters to detect him  by sound. Short term pain for long term gain. 00:12:07.280 --> 00:12:11.240 He busts a nearby glass box with  his elbow and yanks out the fire   00:12:11.240 --> 00:12:16.080 axe within. It’s his only line of defense  now. Remembering the schematics in his mind,   00:12:16.080 --> 00:12:22.400 he runs for his life, using the axe to ward off  the shrieking, once-human beasts as best he can. 00:12:22.400 --> 00:12:27.720 Floor by floor, he descends towards the basement,  never fully losing the pursuers. He runs through   00:12:27.720 --> 00:12:32.440 hall after hall, door after door, until he  reaches the secure bulkhead for the basement   00:12:32.440 --> 00:12:37.840 control room and punches in the code. Soon,  he’s standing before a vast control panel,   00:12:37.840 --> 00:12:42.600 and remembers exactly the sequence he needs  to activate the on-site nuclear warhead. 00:12:42.600 --> 00:12:47.920 The Agent puts in the code exactly as he was  told, and as he does so, he becomes absently   00:12:47.920 --> 00:12:53.080 aware of a strange itching sensation on  his arm. He turns, and sees, with horror,   00:12:53.080 --> 00:12:58.120 that one of the creatures had clawed through  his suit, leaving a red rash against his skin. 00:12:58.120 --> 00:12:59.120 He’d been infected. 00:12:59.880 --> 00:13:03.160 But that didn’t matter. If he could  activate the nuke and head back,   00:13:03.160 --> 00:13:07.440 the SCP-500 pill would cure his  brain tumor and this mysterious   00:13:07.440 --> 00:13:12.600 pathogen. All he needed to do was  complete his mission. Then he’d— 00:13:12.600 --> 00:13:16.960 With the push of a button, the lights across  the facility switch on and start flashing   00:13:16.960 --> 00:13:22.480 red. A voice over the intercom crows that the  on-site nuclear warhead has been activated,   00:13:22.480 --> 00:13:27.600 and that the entire facility would be entering  lockdown in the lead-up to the explosion. 00:13:27.600 --> 00:13:29.200 Lockdown!? 00:13:29.200 --> 00:13:34.880 And that’s when it hits him: He was never meant  to come home. He’d been given a false promise,   00:13:34.880 --> 00:13:40.560 and sent on a mission with no hope. He’d just be  one more person counted among the sick and the   00:13:40.560 --> 00:13:48.360 dead when the bomb went off. It was so beautifully  cruel, he can’t help but laugh to himself. 00:13:48.360 --> 00:13:55.440 He figures, when push comes to shove, there’s  only ever one cure for a disease like this… 00:13:55.440 --> 00:13:56.800 Boom. 00:13:56.800 --> 00:14:01.440 The human body can be a terrifying concept.  You don’t know if the thing that will one day   00:14:01.440 --> 00:14:05.880 kill you is already lurking deep within your  flesh - whether it’s a misfolded protein in   00:14:05.880 --> 00:14:09.400 your brain that will one day become  a deadly prion disease. The clogged   00:14:09.400 --> 00:14:14.120 blood vessel that might someday make itself  known as a heart attack or a brain aneurysm.   00:14:14.120 --> 00:14:20.320 Or perhaps the tiny error in cell division  that can manifest as any number of cancers. 00:14:20.320 --> 00:14:24.400 But compared to SCP-610, codenamed The Flesh That   00:14:24.400 --> 00:14:28.600 Hates, these are all about as  severe as a case of chickenpox. 00:14:28.600 --> 00:14:35.280 SCP-610 is one of the most virulent and deadly  anomalous pathogens the SCP Foundation has ever   00:14:35.280 --> 00:14:39.960 encountered - capable of causing extreme  and dangerous physiological changes to its   00:14:39.960 --> 00:14:46.400 victims. These effects begin with rashes, itching,  lesions, and increased sensitivity of the skin,   00:14:46.400 --> 00:14:52.080 slowly but surely increasing in severity  hour by hour as the disease progresses. 00:14:52.080 --> 00:14:56.320 Within three hours of initial infection,  blemishes resembling scar tissue will   00:14:56.320 --> 00:15:01.240 appear across the chests, backs, and torsos  of the victims, expanding to their limbs and   00:15:01.240 --> 00:15:08.000 extremities over the next hour or so. No  victim of SCP-610 has ever survived beyond   00:15:08.000 --> 00:15:13.080 five hours. In high temperature environments,  the infection rate is even faster - with the   00:15:13.080 --> 00:15:18.560 shortest time to date from infection to full  conversion being only a handful of minutes. 00:15:18.560 --> 00:15:24.000 Once full infection is attained, all vital signs  will cease for three minutes. At this point,   00:15:24.000 --> 00:15:27.560 the body’s advanced scar tissue  will take on a life of its own,   00:15:27.560 --> 00:15:32.640 with vital signs being reported at three to  four times the rate of non-anomalous humans. 00:15:32.640 --> 00:15:35.600 But they won’t appear human for long after that. 00:15:35.600 --> 00:15:39.720 The mutations continue to advance,  becoming considerably more severe.   00:15:39.720 --> 00:15:44.720 Fleshy limbs will extend, multiply, and  split. Their body may warp. Their head   00:15:44.720 --> 00:15:50.360 may shift or elongate. In some extreme cases,  infectees have become static and started to   00:15:50.360 --> 00:15:55.040 grow out into their environment - covering  the surrounding area in tumorous masses,   00:15:55.040 --> 00:15:59.200 making it more hospitable for fellow  victims of the Flesh That Hates. 00:15:59.200 --> 00:16:03.680 Highly risky Foundation observation has shown  us that the disease seems perfectly designed to   00:16:03.680 --> 00:16:09.000 propagate itself. In the early stages, when  the original infected human is still alive,   00:16:09.000 --> 00:16:13.840 it will seek out aid from others, hoping for  a reprieve from its condition - increasing   00:16:13.840 --> 00:16:17.720 infection risk. In later stages,  the creatures that were once human   00:16:17.720 --> 00:16:22.360 will aggressively pursue any uninfected  people who enter their sensory range. 00:16:22.360 --> 00:16:26.240 Skin to skin contact is the  most common vector of infection,   00:16:26.240 --> 00:16:31.040 but infection via the respiratory  system is even more rapid and dangerous. 00:16:31.040 --> 00:16:34.440 The anomaly is believed to be connected  to one of the more dangerous Groups of   00:16:34.440 --> 00:16:39.320 Interest the SCP Foundation are aware of:  An ancient fringe religious organization   00:16:39.320 --> 00:16:45.480 known as the Sarkicists. These loosely  affiliated cults worship flesh, disease,   00:16:45.480 --> 00:16:49.680 and corruption in all its forms, and  some of the nastier anomalies related   00:16:49.680 --> 00:16:54.760 to so-called “Body Horror” and disease  can be attributed to their rituals. 00:16:54.760 --> 00:16:59.160 However, given their inclinations, it’s highly  unlikely that, even if a connection could be   00:16:59.160 --> 00:17:04.400 proven, a Sarkicist would give up any information  that might lead to the SCP Foundation synthesizing   00:17:04.400 --> 00:17:11.120 some kind of treatment or cure for SCP-610 - even  if the Foundation resorted to torture. In fact,   00:17:11.120 --> 00:17:16.960 knowing the Sarkicists’ unconventional views on  pain and suffering, they might even enjoy it. 00:17:16.960 --> 00:17:22.080 Initial reports of the Flesh That Hates were not  actually produced by the SCP Foundation, but the   00:17:22.080 --> 00:17:27.160 Russian government - After reports of an unusual  number of disappearances in the area around Lake   00:17:27.160 --> 00:17:33.120 Baikal in Southern Siberia. It’s a rural area, and  multiple alarm bells went off when farmers were   00:17:33.120 --> 00:17:39.200 sending in reports of neighboring farms being  abandoned, their inhabitants unaccounted for. 00:17:39.200 --> 00:17:42.240 Local police were dispatched to  look into the matter. They never   00:17:42.240 --> 00:17:47.280 came back. Regional police were sent out  to locate the missing local police. They   00:17:47.280 --> 00:17:51.720 disappeared too. When members of the  Federal Security Service were sent in,   00:17:51.720 --> 00:17:57.120 and they failed to report back, it became clear  that something out of the ordinary was going on. 00:17:57.120 --> 00:18:02.760 The Foundation were quick to cordon off the  affected areas, where people infected by SCP-610   00:18:02.760 --> 00:18:07.800 had converged into psuedo-communities. Remote  robots and drones are permitted to enter these   00:18:07.800 --> 00:18:13.600 areas for observation, but aren’t permitted to  leave, to reduce risk of the infection spreading.   00:18:13.600 --> 00:18:18.280 Due to both the highly contagious nature of the  virus, and the highly aggressive behavior of those   00:18:18.280 --> 00:18:24.440 infected, this anomaly has been given the Keter  Class - and a severe containment mandate to match. 00:18:24.440 --> 00:18:28.800 Because of the size of the affected areas,  isolation and quarantine have been deemed the   00:18:28.800 --> 00:18:33.680 most viable containment options. If any infected  creatures make their way towards the perimeter of   00:18:33.680 --> 00:18:39.000 the quarantine zone, the accepted procedure is to  pepper them with small arms fire until immobile,   00:18:39.000 --> 00:18:43.920 before destroying the body with incendiary  weapons or long-range explosive munitions. 00:18:43.920 --> 00:18:47.280 Even getting close to the creatures  is considered too great a risk to be   00:18:47.280 --> 00:18:51.880 acceptable. Anyone infected is to be  considered lost; they’ll be euthanized   00:18:51.880 --> 00:18:56.120 and incinerated. Anyone within a three  meter range of one of the infected needs   00:18:56.120 --> 00:19:00.760 to be quarantined for several hours to  ensure that they haven’t become a vector. 00:19:00.760 --> 00:19:06.160 Scorched earth policies are the standard  operating procedure for SCP-610. You may   00:19:06.160 --> 00:19:10.600 think that this is cruel on the Foundation’s  part, but it’s a policy you’ll agree with   00:19:10.600 --> 00:19:14.480 when you consider that the alternative is  hearing a fleshy tendril slithering against   00:19:14.480 --> 00:19:21.040 your window tonight. If ever SCP-610 breached  containment and reached a densely populated area,   00:19:21.040 --> 00:19:26.120 it wouldn’t be long before human beings ceased  to be the dominant force on this planet. 00:19:26.120 --> 00:19:32.400 As I said earlier, the human body can be a  terrifying thing, and anomalies like SCP-610   00:19:32.400 --> 00:19:38.840 can exploit this primal terror of the self. This  bestial burden we all share. Because it reminds   00:19:38.840 --> 00:19:46.040 us of the most frightening and universal fact  about our bodies: They won’t always be ours. 00:19:46.040 --> 00:19:50.240 Check out the Dr. Bob Patreon and become a  junior researcher today! Now go and watch   00:19:50.240 --> 00:19:56.640 another entry from the files of Dr. Bob,  like SCP-5056 The Constant Companions.