WEBVTT
Kind: captions
Language: en

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A small convertible sports car rumbles down
a desert road, kicking up a cloud of dust

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high into the behind it.

00:00:06.760 --> 00:00:11.040
The driver is sharply dressed and looks at
himself in the rearview mirror, giving his

00:00:11.040 --> 00:00:13.160
sunglasses a slight adjustment.

00:00:13.160 --> 00:00:15.460
He knows he looks good as he feels.

00:00:15.460 --> 00:00:18.859
And why shouldn’t the producer of Hollywood’s
ninth most successful film in the month of

00:00:18.859 --> 00:00:20.900
September be happy?

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The car comes to a sudden stop in front of
a cluster of buildings, which appear to be

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the only structures in this vast, otherwise
empty desert.

00:00:28.130 --> 00:00:32.890
The producer hops out of the car and surveys
the desolate location - the cracked concrete

00:00:32.890 --> 00:00:37.620
air strip, the weather beaten buildings, the
endless, lonely desert stretching on for miles

00:00:37.620 --> 00:00:38.870
in every direction…

00:00:38.870 --> 00:00:43.850
“This place is great!” the producer says
out loud to no one in particular.

00:00:43.850 --> 00:00:47.480
The whole location would be perfect for his
new movie which is set entirely at a desert

00:00:47.480 --> 00:00:52.000
airstrip and tells the story of a lonely airplane
mechanic who falls in love with a female bounty

00:00:52.000 --> 00:00:53.730
hunter chasing an escaped convict.

00:00:53.730 --> 00:00:55.920
A tale as old as time.

00:00:55.920 --> 00:00:57.660
But now where’s the guy who called him?

00:00:57.660 --> 00:01:02.390
He kept rambling about wanting to make a documentary
about the desert or something, but that doesn’t

00:01:02.390 --> 00:01:03.390
matter now.

00:01:03.390 --> 00:01:05.650
He doesn’t realize what a great filming
location he’s sitting on.

00:01:05.650 --> 00:01:07.759
The producer calls out.

00:01:07.759 --> 00:01:08.759
“Hello?”

00:01:08.759 --> 00:01:11.159
But the only response is the desert breeze.

00:01:11.159 --> 00:01:14.150
He takes off his sunglasses and looks around.

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He sees that the doors to the hangar are cracked.

00:01:16.840 --> 00:01:19.310
Maybe the guy who owns this place is in there.

00:01:19.310 --> 00:01:22.770
The producer walks inside the hangar but abruptly
stops.

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His mouth goes agape.

00:01:24.270 --> 00:01:26.560
He can’t believe what he’s seeing…

00:01:26.560 --> 00:01:30.250
This place is even better than the guy on
the phone had described it!

00:01:30.250 --> 00:01:32.740
The hangar is huge and completely empty.

00:01:32.740 --> 00:01:36.920
He could probably build almost all the sets
in the hangar, maybe even shoot the entire

00:01:36.920 --> 00:01:37.920
picture out here!

00:01:37.920 --> 00:01:41.630
He’d save a fortune on the budget by not
having to pay the soundstage rates that the

00:01:41.630 --> 00:01:43.759
studios charge on the movie lots in LA.

00:01:43.759 --> 00:01:49.270
“You beautiful genius” he thinks to himself,
the movie could flop and still be a financial

00:01:49.270 --> 00:01:50.270
success.

00:01:50.270 --> 00:01:51.570
But where’s the guy who called him?

00:01:51.570 --> 00:01:53.189
Doesn’t he know who he is?

00:01:53.189 --> 00:01:57.460
He’s a very important producer and doesn’t
have time to wait around for some desert nobody

00:01:57.460 --> 00:01:58.910
who runs a two bit airport.

00:01:58.910 --> 00:02:00.890
Alright, that’s it.

00:02:00.890 --> 00:02:02.210
He’s leaving.

00:02:02.210 --> 00:02:06.840
The producer turns to leave but the doors
of the hangar suddenly slide shut with a bang.

00:02:06.840 --> 00:02:09.310
Is this some kind of joke?

00:02:09.310 --> 00:02:13.450
He walks up to the hangar doors and starts
banging on them but they don’t move.

00:02:13.450 --> 00:02:14.450
“Hello?!

00:02:14.450 --> 00:02:15.450
Hey I’m trapped in here?

00:02:15.450 --> 00:02:17.280
What’s the big deal?”

00:02:17.280 --> 00:02:18.730
Still no response.

00:02:18.730 --> 00:02:21.250
Just what is going on at this place?

00:02:21.250 --> 00:02:24.220
The producer is getting worried, was this
some kind of a setup?

00:02:24.220 --> 00:02:25.670
Is he about to get robbed?

00:02:25.670 --> 00:02:28.690
It wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world
if they took his car.

00:02:28.690 --> 00:02:30.670
He’s nine payments behind on it anyway.

00:02:30.670 --> 00:02:32.700
But jeez is it hot in here.

00:02:32.700 --> 00:02:35.629
It was hot outside but it’s even worse in
this hangar.

00:02:35.629 --> 00:02:38.319
And whoever said that desert air was dry?

00:02:38.319 --> 00:02:39.909
An idiot that’s who.

00:02:39.909 --> 00:02:42.390
The humidity in here is stifling.

00:02:42.390 --> 00:02:46.010
The producer loosens his collar and tugs at
it, trying to cool off.

00:02:46.010 --> 00:02:48.170
“Alright, I’ve had just about enough.

00:02:48.170 --> 00:02:51.920
If you don’t let me out of here there’s
gonna be big problems for you, fella.”

00:02:51.920 --> 00:02:57.430
Just then the producer hears a noise behind
him, coming from the dark deeper in the hangar.

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The producer doesn’t react though, he needs
to play it cool.

00:03:00.440 --> 00:03:04.980
He bends down and pretends to tie his shoe,
and takes the Derringer pistol out of his

00:03:04.980 --> 00:03:06.400
ankle holster.

00:03:06.400 --> 00:03:10.760
He stands up and spins around, pointing the
gun in front of him, but he can’t see anyone

00:03:10.760 --> 00:03:11.760
in the darkness.

00:03:11.760 --> 00:03:13.420
“This is your last chance!

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I’m not playing around here!”

00:03:14.659 --> 00:03:20.680
The strange noise comes again, a low rumbling
noise, and the producer stumbles forward.

00:03:20.680 --> 00:03:21.680
What just happened?

00:03:21.680 --> 00:03:24.760
It felt like the floor rippled and pushed
him forward.

00:03:24.760 --> 00:03:26.100
There, it happened again.

00:03:26.100 --> 00:03:27.100
And again.

00:03:27.100 --> 00:03:28.230
The producer screams.

00:03:28.230 --> 00:03:29.740
What’s going on?

00:03:29.740 --> 00:03:33.330
The rumbling, growling noise grows louder
as the floor keeps rippling and pushing him

00:03:33.330 --> 00:03:36.420
forward, like a wave rolling through the solid
ground.

00:03:36.420 --> 00:03:39.420
Is this an earthquake?

00:03:39.420 --> 00:03:43.280
The producer is knocked off his feet, and
still the floor keeps pushing him forward

00:03:43.280 --> 00:03:46.140
towards where that horrible growling noise
is coming from.

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He tries to stand but he can’t, the floor
is moving too much.

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He tries to crawl but keeps getting moved
closer and closer to the source of the now

00:03:54.140 --> 00:03:58.510
deafening roar that seems to be coming from…
what is that?

00:03:58.510 --> 00:04:02.060
The producer screams and fires his gun at
the… thing in front of him.

00:04:02.060 --> 00:04:06.120
In the flashes of the gunfire he can finally
see it, the thing that he’s being pushed

00:04:06.120 --> 00:04:12.280
into - a giant, gaping maw filled with a mass
of gnashing, grinding teeth.

00:04:12.280 --> 00:04:16.170
How unlucky for this movie producer that he
didn’t realize until it was too late that

00:04:16.170 --> 00:04:20.680
the location for his new movie would be the
last one that he’d ever scout.

00:04:20.680 --> 00:04:24.389
Because as you have probably already figured
out, this unknown building in the middle of

00:04:24.389 --> 00:04:29.910
the desert isn’t at all what it appears
to be, and in fact is quite well known to

00:04:29.910 --> 00:04:34.600
the SCP Foundation… as SCP-1051.

00:04:34.600 --> 00:04:39.970
SCP-1051 isn’t actually a building at all,
but in fact is a living organism.

00:04:39.970 --> 00:04:44.220
This creature’s “shell” which resembles
an aircraft hangar is quite large, and measures

00:04:44.220 --> 00:04:48.010
roughly 700 meters by 500 meters by 60 meters.

00:04:48.010 --> 00:04:52.700
It is a completely immobile organism, and
acts as an ambush predator, luring its prey

00:04:52.700 --> 00:04:58.010
to it through a number of different forms
of sociological and psychological manipulation.

00:04:58.010 --> 00:05:03.199
SCP-1051 attempts to bring prey to it in a
number of ways, but its primary method is

00:05:03.199 --> 00:05:06.199
by spreading certain ideas into popular culture.

00:05:06.199 --> 00:05:10.780
It will constantly try to connect to orbiting
satellites and use them to beam out television

00:05:10.780 --> 00:05:13.460
signals, images, and other forms of media.

00:05:13.460 --> 00:05:18.400
It’s been measured as having around a 25%
success rate in connecting with and getting

00:05:18.400 --> 00:05:23.080
its message carried by the satellites, and
may have the ability to transmit regular radio

00:05:23.080 --> 00:05:27.009
broadcasts or connect to standard telephone
lines as well.

00:05:27.009 --> 00:05:32.020
The messages that SCP-1051 sends out tend
to fall into the category that could be termed

00:05:32.020 --> 00:05:36.740
as “conspiracy theories,” most of which
are about itself.

00:05:36.740 --> 00:05:41.389
It has uploaded information to various conspiracy
websites that has included reports of spaceships

00:05:41.389 --> 00:05:45.960
being held and reverse engineered in its hangar,
descriptions of so called “Men in Black”

00:05:45.960 --> 00:05:50.620
using its location as a site for extraterrestrial
contact, it has attempted to spread rumors

00:05:50.620 --> 00:05:55.310
that it is a site used as a testing location
for any number of top secret devices including

00:05:55.310 --> 00:06:01.400
energy weapons, weather control devices, teleportation
machines, and impossible propulsion systems.

00:06:01.400 --> 00:06:06.710
SCP-1051 has also attempted to spread through
radio and television transmissions that it

00:06:06.710 --> 00:06:09.550
is a site used by a “United States Shadow
Government.”

00:06:09.550 --> 00:06:13.650
It’s made at least a handful of calls to
Hollywood based production companies in an

00:06:13.650 --> 00:06:17.630
attempt to get them to further spread its
information, as well as contacting various

00:06:17.630 --> 00:06:19.580
tabloid newspapers.

00:06:19.580 --> 00:06:24.840
Perhaps most nefarious of all, it has even
sent orders to US Military Intelligence operatives,

00:06:24.840 --> 00:06:30.930
posing as a senior official and ordering them
to reveal SCP-1051’s location.

00:06:30.930 --> 00:06:36.949
SCP-1051 appears desperate to make its location
known to curious outsiders, all in an attempt

00:06:36.949 --> 00:06:41.860
to get them to come find it, so it can lure
them inside of itself, and feed.

00:06:41.860 --> 00:06:47.330
And the anatomical structure of SCP-1051 is
perfectly suited to this task.

00:06:47.330 --> 00:06:52.640
It’s bizarre biological structure consists
of a large “tongue” which looks very similar

00:06:52.640 --> 00:06:54.000
to a paved runway.

00:06:54.000 --> 00:06:58.120
The tongue leads directly into a set of large
airplane hangar doors, that could be called

00:06:58.120 --> 00:07:00.260
the organism’s “mouth.”

00:07:00.260 --> 00:07:04.580
This door mouth opens up to what looks like
a hangar, but is actually the gizzard-like

00:07:04.580 --> 00:07:10.740
organ of 1051 where it grinds its prey into
a fine paste to prepare it for digestion.

00:07:10.740 --> 00:07:14.569
The next building is the creature’s stomach,
where it breaks down the liquefied prey into

00:07:14.569 --> 00:07:18.699
nutrients and separates the waste products
that it can’t digest.

00:07:18.699 --> 00:07:24.470
The nutrients are transported to the area
where SCP-1051’s brain is thought to reside,

00:07:24.470 --> 00:07:27.419
while the waste is ejected out of the structure.

00:07:27.419 --> 00:07:31.099
Finally there are what appears to be a set
of antennae on the side of the building.

00:07:31.099 --> 00:07:35.099
These information distribution organs extend
below the ground as well, where many more

00:07:35.099 --> 00:07:41.060
antennae and wires are thought to exist and
give 1051 the ability to send out multiple

00:07:41.060 --> 00:07:43.850
television, radio, and other signals.

00:07:43.850 --> 00:07:50.110
SCP-1051 was discovered in 1947, when an egg-shaped
structure was reported to have crash landed

00:07:50.110 --> 00:07:53.199
in the desert of the American Southwest, near
the town of Roswell, New Mexico.

00:07:53.199 --> 00:07:59.020
The United States Air Force took this strange
egg into its possession and moved it to its

00:07:59.020 --> 00:08:03.009
current location in Nevada for observation
and research.

00:08:03.009 --> 00:08:06.250
The Air Force scientists who were assigned
to the object first thought that they were

00:08:06.250 --> 00:08:10.849
dealing with a meteorite, though one that
was composed of some yet unknown material.

00:08:10.849 --> 00:08:15.840
They soon discovered that the object was hollow,
and was filled with some kind of liquid.

00:08:15.840 --> 00:08:20.400
Strangest of all though, was when they detected
something inside that liquid core.

00:08:20.400 --> 00:08:22.400
And it was moving.

00:08:22.400 --> 00:08:26.699
They studied the object for years until one
day, something happened that would end their

00:08:26.699 --> 00:08:28.340
research for good.

00:08:28.340 --> 00:08:30.610
The egg “hatched.”

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One night as Air Force Sergeant Bernson and
two scientists, Dr. James and Dr. Gold, were

00:08:35.760 --> 00:08:40.599
going about their regular work analyzing the
object, they heard a strange sound.

00:08:40.599 --> 00:08:45.100
When they looked at the object, they saw that
a crack had begun to form on the outer shell.

00:08:45.100 --> 00:08:49.790
This cracking continued for about five minutes
until something finally broke through the

00:08:49.790 --> 00:08:50.790
shell.

00:08:50.790 --> 00:08:56.140
An alien creature began to emerge from its
shell and the men all turned to run, but something

00:08:56.140 --> 00:09:00.149
reached out with a long, tentacle-like arm,
and grabbed Dr. James.

00:09:00.149 --> 00:09:04.160
It pulled the scientist in and seemed to absorb
him right into its body.

00:09:04.160 --> 00:09:08.740
Sergeant Bernson and Dr. Gold managed to escape
the airplane hangar and send out a distress

00:09:08.740 --> 00:09:12.839
signal, and it was this cry for help that
described an attack by an alien creature that

00:09:12.839 --> 00:09:17.019
would put the object firmly on the SCP Foundation’s
radar.

00:09:17.019 --> 00:09:21.149
As Sergeant Bernson was sending out the distress
signal, Dr. Gold tapped him on the shoulder

00:09:21.149 --> 00:09:25.209
and pointed towards the hangar where the egg-like
object had been stored.

00:09:25.209 --> 00:09:29.760
The two men watched as the hangar bulged and
expanded, like something was pressing against

00:09:29.760 --> 00:09:31.400
the walls from inside.

00:09:31.400 --> 00:09:35.640
The hangar suddenly collapsed, and they watched
as the creature looked to writhe around in

00:09:35.640 --> 00:09:36.690
the debris.

00:09:36.690 --> 00:09:39.410
But then a new shell began to form around
the alien.

00:09:39.410 --> 00:09:44.649
It grew larger, expanding and shifting until
suddenly, it took on nearly the exact form

00:09:44.649 --> 00:09:46.870
as the hangar that once stood there.

00:09:46.870 --> 00:09:51.980
SCP Foundation agents arrived at the site
not long after and took control of the area.

00:09:51.980 --> 00:09:55.890
They discovered almost immediately that the
building-shaped creature was anything but

00:09:55.890 --> 00:09:56.890
dormant.

00:09:56.890 --> 00:10:00.930
This extraterrestrial that had been born from
an egg and then taken the form of an airplane

00:10:00.930 --> 00:10:04.310
hangar, was ejecting its own eggs.

00:10:04.310 --> 00:10:08.070
The building would occasionally blast eggs
up and into the sky.

00:10:08.070 --> 00:10:12.310
Several of these eggs were stopped and reclaimed
by the Foundation, but others managed to slip

00:10:12.310 --> 00:10:17.240
past and escape the Earth’s atmosphere,
making them impossible to recover.

00:10:17.240 --> 00:10:21.770
The Foundation also soon detected that radio
signals were being emitted by the hangar and

00:10:21.770 --> 00:10:26.269
set up a small radio nearby which would allow
them to both receive and send signals back

00:10:26.269 --> 00:10:29.610
to the creature that was now designated as
SCP-1051.

00:10:29.610 --> 00:10:34.640
Dr. Richardson, the Foundation researcher
on site who was leading the investigation

00:10:34.640 --> 00:10:39.180
into 1051, found the frequency that it was
transmitting on and attempted to speak to

00:10:39.180 --> 00:10:40.360
the creature.

00:10:40.360 --> 00:10:45.060
After asking if 1051 could hear it, the creature
actually responded.

00:10:45.060 --> 00:10:49.790
And it seemed to have a very simple request
- “Give”

00:10:49.790 --> 00:10:54.180
When Dr. Richardson asked it to elaborate,
asking “give what?”

00:10:54.180 --> 00:10:57.110
1051 responded “Want feed…

00:10:57.110 --> 00:10:58.420
Bring food.”

00:10:58.420 --> 00:11:03.209
When the doctor told 1051 that it wouldn’t
be getting any food, the anomaly immediately

00:11:03.209 --> 00:11:05.839
sent out a new transmission stating:

00:11:05.839 --> 00:11:11.410
Area-51 is currently being controlled by the
SCP Foundation, a shadow government organization

00:11:11.410 --> 00:11:13.709
that has designated it SCP-1051.

00:11:13.709 --> 00:11:16.860
Here are a few names of the operatives-

00:11:16.860 --> 00:11:23.300
Dr. Richardson cut SCP-1051 off and ordered
a D-Class personnel to be sent inside the

00:11:23.300 --> 00:11:27.480
creature, hopefully appeasing it and stopping
it from sending any more broadcasts out about

00:11:27.480 --> 00:11:30.050
the highly secretive organization.

00:11:30.050 --> 00:11:35.230
When asked why it was sending these signals,
SCP-1051 responded that it was trying to make

00:11:35.230 --> 00:11:39.371
humans “curious,” it appeared that its
hunting strategy was to flood the world with

00:11:39.371 --> 00:11:43.660
conspiracy theories… conspiracy theories
about itself.

00:11:43.660 --> 00:11:47.889
This would then cause interested humans to
come explore the location, and once they entered

00:11:47.889 --> 00:11:52.220
the hangar, their curiosity would reward them
with an encounter with the alien that they

00:11:52.220 --> 00:11:53.980
had been seeking.

00:11:53.980 --> 00:11:59.230
SCP-1051 also explained that the eggs that
it was ejecting were its “babies” and

00:11:59.230 --> 00:12:03.079
it seemed quite upset that the Foundation
had intercepted some of them as they were

00:12:03.079 --> 00:12:05.430
on their orbital escape trajectory.

00:12:05.430 --> 00:12:09.770
But where had SCP-1051 come up with these
conspiracy theories?

00:12:09.770 --> 00:12:13.880
Had it been studying our culture and the boom
of science fiction in the 1940s to make up

00:12:13.880 --> 00:12:16.620
stories it thought would lead people to it?

00:12:16.620 --> 00:12:19.970
Foundation researcher Dr. Richardson had a
hunch that there was something else going

00:12:19.970 --> 00:12:20.970
on.

00:12:20.970 --> 00:12:25.209
He next spoke to Dr. Gold, the other Air Force
scientist who had been studying the egg shaped

00:12:25.209 --> 00:12:26.320
meteorite.

00:12:26.320 --> 00:12:31.450
He asked him to describe SCP-1051’s first
victim, Dr. James.

00:12:31.450 --> 00:12:36.470
Dr. Gold told him that Dr. James was obsessed
with his job, and that spread into his personal

00:12:36.470 --> 00:12:37.470
life.

00:12:37.470 --> 00:12:38.940
He was “a real sci-fi nut”.

00:12:38.940 --> 00:12:44.470
Dr. James apparently loved b-movies, especially
ones about aliens and UFOs.

00:12:44.470 --> 00:12:48.510
He was convinced that the government had both
in their possession already, and his research

00:12:48.510 --> 00:12:53.630
on the strange, egg shaped meteorite only
added to his confidence in that fact.

00:12:53.630 --> 00:12:59.649
Had SCP-1051 somehow absorbed this knowledge
from its first meal here on Earth and was

00:12:59.649 --> 00:13:03.120
now using it as a way to lure in new, inquisitive
prey?

00:13:03.120 --> 00:13:06.709
Dr. Richardson thought it may go even deeper
than that.

00:13:06.709 --> 00:13:11.970
When he played a recording of the first conversation
he’d had with SCP-1051 for Dr. Gold, the

00:13:11.970 --> 00:13:17.449
one where 1051 told him it wanted him to “Bring
food” Dr. Gold was left shocked.

00:13:17.449 --> 00:13:21.930
The voice he was hearing… belonged to Dr.
James.

00:13:21.930 --> 00:13:26.940
SCP-1051 remains in the Nevadan desert, and
its area is patrolled at all times by no less

00:13:26.940 --> 00:13:31.100
than twenty Foundation personnel in uniforms
that resemble those worn by members of the

00:13:31.100 --> 00:13:33.260
United States Air Force.

00:13:33.260 --> 00:13:38.019
They are authorized to shoot at intruders,
but not with the intention to kill, instead

00:13:38.019 --> 00:13:40.800
only as a means to scare them away.

00:13:40.800 --> 00:13:46.420
Should any intruders come within one kilometer
of SCP-1051, they are to be detained and administered

00:13:46.420 --> 00:13:48.139
Class A amnestics.

00:13:48.139 --> 00:13:54.300
Since SCP-1051’s primary danger stems from
its ability to spread false information, the

00:13:54.300 --> 00:13:59.899
SCP Foundation’s main containment efforts
have been focused on stopping its broadcasts.

00:13:59.899 --> 00:14:05.550
Agents are to respond to any civilian rumors
or questions about SCP-1051 with denial and

00:14:05.550 --> 00:14:09.670
ridicule, to make it clear that these are
nothing but stories and that the person is

00:14:09.670 --> 00:14:11.130
stupid for believing them.

00:14:11.130 --> 00:14:15.400
Should they exhibit any knowledge beyond the
normal myths and rumors, the application of

00:14:15.400 --> 00:14:18.740
Class A amnestics is also permitted.

00:14:18.740 --> 00:14:24.089
Any satellites orbiting near 1051’s location
are to be monitored for interference to their

00:14:24.089 --> 00:14:27.920
transmissions, and if any antennae with an
unknown purpose are discovered within a ten

00:14:27.920 --> 00:14:34.209
kilometer area of the building, they are to
be destroyed or surrounded by a faraday cage.

00:14:34.209 --> 00:14:39.370
SCP-1051 may not be able to move, but its
ability to reproduce and the difficulty that

00:14:39.370 --> 00:14:43.589
the Foundation still faces in stopping its
spread of disinformation has led to it being

00:14:43.589 --> 00:14:49.850
classified as Euclid, and research into its
origins and biology are ongoing.

00:14:49.850 --> 00:14:52.450
A young woman steps onto her bathroom scale.

00:14:52.450 --> 00:14:56.610
She holds her breath and squeezes her eyes
shut, afraid to see the results as she listens

00:14:56.610 --> 00:14:57.760
to the dial spinning.

00:14:57.760 --> 00:15:02.019
When it slows to a stop, she opens her eyes
and looks down.

00:15:02.019 --> 00:15:03.420
She balks at the result.

00:15:03.420 --> 00:15:04.899
150 pounds!

00:15:04.899 --> 00:15:07.339
That’s unacceptable in her eyes.

00:15:07.339 --> 00:15:11.150
She steps off the scale and examines her reflection
in the full-length mirror.

00:15:11.150 --> 00:15:15.190
In truth, her weight is far from out of control,
but when she looks at herself she can’t

00:15:15.190 --> 00:15:19.810
help but see flaws – the subtle ring of
pudge around her middle, the way her butt

00:15:19.810 --> 00:15:24.240
sticks out just a little too far for her liking,
the very faint thickness around her cheeks

00:15:24.240 --> 00:15:27.290
and chin that hint at her history of snacking.

00:15:27.290 --> 00:15:29.680
As she leaves the bathroom, she reflects on
her situation.

00:15:29.680 --> 00:15:31.779
Of course, she’s gaining weight.

00:15:31.779 --> 00:15:33.029
How could it be any other way?

00:15:33.029 --> 00:15:37.220
For the last two years, she’s been in lock-down
during a pandemic and she’s barely left

00:15:37.220 --> 00:15:38.350
her apartment.

00:15:38.350 --> 00:15:42.470
She let her gym membership lapse and instead
of cycling to work, she’s instead taken

00:15:42.470 --> 00:15:44.029
the easy way out by just driving.

00:15:44.029 --> 00:15:48.330
And it’s not like she gets much exercise
in her free time either.

00:15:48.330 --> 00:15:52.709
During these last two years of isolation,
she’s mostly stayed in and watched television.

00:15:52.709 --> 00:15:57.160
She’s discovered a particular love for trashy
daytime talk shows and court dramas.

00:15:57.160 --> 00:16:00.500
Intellectually, she knows that they’re the
equivalent of junk food, but, at the same

00:16:00.500 --> 00:16:03.959
time, there is a certain mindless charm to
them.

00:16:03.959 --> 00:16:08.000
She would be embarrassed to admit it to any
of her friends, but she does enjoy just turning

00:16:08.000 --> 00:16:13.050
off her brain and absorbing some silly talk
show about professional stunt dwarves or Satan-worshipping

00:16:13.050 --> 00:16:14.480
furry juggalos.

00:16:14.480 --> 00:16:18.050
That sort of entertainment has been a boon
to get her through the tough times.

00:16:18.050 --> 00:16:20.699
Nevertheless, it’s time to make a change.

00:16:20.699 --> 00:16:23.589
She promises herself that she’s going to
get into shape.

00:16:23.589 --> 00:16:26.810
Today, instead of vegging on the couch, she’s
going to make an effort.

00:16:26.810 --> 00:16:31.550
She’s going to go out and get some exercise
and, she tells herself, she’s going to watch

00:16:31.550 --> 00:16:34.620
those extra pounds melt away right before
her eyes.

00:16:34.620 --> 00:16:37.080
She hopes that her old gym clothes will still
fit her.

00:16:37.080 --> 00:16:41.399
After all, she’s definitely put on some
extra weight since her last trip to the gym.

00:16:41.399 --> 00:16:45.199
After rummaging through her drawers, she finds
what she’s looking for – her spandex gym

00:16:45.199 --> 00:16:46.649
shorts and sports bra.

00:16:46.649 --> 00:16:50.410
She quickly changes her clothes and is relieved
to see that, although they might be a little

00:16:50.410 --> 00:16:53.089
snugger than she would like, they still fit
her pretty well.

00:16:53.089 --> 00:16:54.440
That’s a good sign!

00:16:54.440 --> 00:16:58.209
She probably won’t even have to work very
hard to get herself down to her ideal weight.

00:16:58.209 --> 00:17:00.980
“It’s all a matter of willpower,” she
tells herself.

00:17:00.980 --> 00:17:04.569
“I was fit before, so that means I should
be able to do it again.

00:17:04.569 --> 00:17:06.300
All I have to do is avoid temptation.

00:17:06.300 --> 00:17:10.939
I’ll just have to make sure I stay active
instead of watching trash TV all day.

00:17:10.939 --> 00:17:13.299
After all, I don’t want to rot my brain
too much.”

00:17:13.299 --> 00:17:17.410
On the first day, she actually does an admirable
job of sticking to her plan.

00:17:17.410 --> 00:17:21.150
She cycles to work, enjoying the fresh air
and the reassuring post-workout burn in her

00:17:21.150 --> 00:17:24.560
legs that let her know that she’s making
progress.

00:17:24.560 --> 00:17:29.690
She throws away all the junk food in her refrigerator
and goes shopping for healthy fruits and vegetables.

00:17:29.690 --> 00:17:33.799
And, most important of all, she limits her
television time.

00:17:33.799 --> 00:17:38.420
She knows that trashy TV is probably her biggest
addiction, even more than junk food, so she

00:17:38.420 --> 00:17:40.559
needs to be careful of that.

00:17:40.559 --> 00:17:43.830
On the second day, though, she notices something
strange.

00:17:43.830 --> 00:17:48.190
She starts off with a simple, healthy breakfast
– just some granola and a glass of juice.

00:17:48.190 --> 00:17:52.120
It’s barely enough to satisfy her, but she
knows that she has to make sacrifices if she

00:17:52.120 --> 00:17:54.809
expects to actually lose any weight.

00:17:54.809 --> 00:17:57.570
After breakfast, she decides to go out for
a jog.

00:17:57.570 --> 00:18:01.270
As she’s out on the street, she’s overcome
with sudden hunger.

00:18:01.270 --> 00:18:02.980
Of course, that’s to be expected.

00:18:02.980 --> 00:18:06.770
She’s on a diet now, so it’s going to
take some time to adjust to these smaller

00:18:06.770 --> 00:18:07.890
meals.

00:18:07.890 --> 00:18:10.419
She puts her hand to her rumbling stomach
and grimaces.

00:18:10.419 --> 00:18:12.400
She’s never felt THIS hungry before!

00:18:12.400 --> 00:18:16.071
If she didn’t know better, she would think
that she hadn’t eaten for a week with the

00:18:16.071 --> 00:18:18.280
amount of pain that she’s feeling.

00:18:18.280 --> 00:18:21.940
In fact, she’s actually starting to feel
a little woozy and she has to lean against

00:18:21.940 --> 00:18:23.990
a light post to keep from fainting.

00:18:23.990 --> 00:18:25.919
She shakes her head to clear her thoughts.

00:18:25.919 --> 00:18:30.950
Okay, she thinks, I must have misjudged how
many calories I need to get me through a morning.

00:18:30.950 --> 00:18:32.980
Her eyes stray to a nearby coffee shop.

00:18:32.980 --> 00:18:34.419
She sighs in relief.

00:18:34.419 --> 00:18:38.020
She thinks to herself: I’ll just pop in
there and get myself a small snack, just a

00:18:38.020 --> 00:18:40.080
little something to keep my blood sugar up.

00:18:40.080 --> 00:18:43.200
She walks into the café and gets in line.

00:18:43.200 --> 00:18:48.190
As she waits, she can’t help but stare at
the rows of pastries on display under the

00:18:48.190 --> 00:18:49.190
glass.

00:18:49.190 --> 00:18:52.309
They all look delicious and she is REALLY
hungry.

00:18:52.309 --> 00:18:56.010
She fully intends to only get a bagel with
a little smear of cream cheese, but when she

00:18:56.010 --> 00:18:59.720
gets to the counter she finds herself ordering
way too much food.

00:18:59.720 --> 00:19:03.280
“I’d like two scones, three danishes,
and a bear claw,” she says.

00:19:03.280 --> 00:19:06.840
“Also a large super raspberry Frappuccino
with extra syrup and whip cream!”

00:19:06.840 --> 00:19:10.940
The words just tumble out of her mouth almost
as if it’s not her saying them, but rather

00:19:10.940 --> 00:19:12.790
some other voice speaking through her mouth…

00:19:12.790 --> 00:19:13.790
“What the!?

00:19:13.790 --> 00:19:15.120
I didn’t say that!”

00:19:15.120 --> 00:19:16.590
she stammers.

00:19:16.590 --> 00:19:20.409
The clerk behind the counter eyes her strangely
and the young woman feels too embarrassed

00:19:20.409 --> 00:19:22.179
to protest further.

00:19:22.179 --> 00:19:26.200
She steps aside and waits for her order, pondering
the strange event that just happened.

00:19:26.200 --> 00:19:27.299
Is she possessed?

00:19:27.299 --> 00:19:31.309
She’s not a superstitious person, but she
can’t think of any other explanation for

00:19:31.309 --> 00:19:32.600
what just happened.

00:19:32.600 --> 00:19:36.510
She can admit to herself that she has broken
down and lost to temptation over a tasty snack

00:19:36.510 --> 00:19:38.350
in the past, but this?

00:19:38.350 --> 00:19:39.539
This is ridiculous.

00:19:39.539 --> 00:19:44.140
Eventually, when the clerk hands her the order,
she rationalizes the whole thing away.

00:19:44.140 --> 00:19:47.390
“I must just be having a hunger hallucination,”
she says to herself.

00:19:47.390 --> 00:19:51.780
“Obviously, I need to be a little more careful
about not being so strict about my diet.

00:19:51.780 --> 00:19:56.080
I’m sure if I just eat sensibly, I won’t
have an experience like that again.”

00:19:56.080 --> 00:19:59.750
Her stomach grumbles again, reminding her
of the original reason why she stepped into

00:19:59.750 --> 00:20:01.100
this coffee shop.

00:20:01.100 --> 00:20:04.360
She retreats to a table in the corner and
tears open the bag.

00:20:04.360 --> 00:20:08.250
She wolves down her pastries with gusto and
slurps at her rich, creamy drink.

00:20:08.250 --> 00:20:11.360
When she’s finished, she sighs in satisfaction…

00:20:11.360 --> 00:20:15.669
although the uncomfortable full feeling in
her belly reminds her of her predicament.

00:20:15.669 --> 00:20:19.770
She only meant to eat enough to keep her from
fainting, but instead, she’s eating herself

00:20:19.770 --> 00:20:20.770
silly.

00:20:20.770 --> 00:20:22.669
And it’s only day two of the diet!

00:20:22.669 --> 00:20:24.450
This does not bode well.

00:20:24.450 --> 00:20:26.010
“Okay,” she tells herself.

00:20:26.010 --> 00:20:27.330
“This is my last cheat!

00:20:27.330 --> 00:20:30.840
From now on, I’m going to be serious about
this diet.”

00:20:30.840 --> 00:20:34.559
She stands up and leaves the café, ready
to complete the rest of her jog.

00:20:34.559 --> 00:20:37.799
But then something even stranger happens…

00:20:37.799 --> 00:20:40.650
On the television, the matriarch of the family
is furious.

00:20:40.650 --> 00:20:44.081
She has forbidden her daughter from marrying
the gardener because she believes that he

00:20:44.081 --> 00:20:46.460
is too low class for her high-borne daughter.

00:20:46.460 --> 00:20:50.159
But what she doesn’t realize is that her
daughter is in love and that she is determined

00:20:50.159 --> 00:20:51.440
to make it work.

00:20:51.440 --> 00:20:55.120
The daughter and the gardener have eloped
and the matriarch is hiring a private detective

00:20:55.120 --> 00:20:56.320
to track them down.

00:20:56.320 --> 00:20:59.650
Meanwhile, the matriarch’s long-lost twin
brother, whom she thought died in a plane

00:20:59.650 --> 00:21:03.350
crash in the tropics, has actually been alive
the entire time.

00:21:03.350 --> 00:21:07.490
He has been in a South American hospital,
recovering from amnesia, but now he returns

00:21:07.490 --> 00:21:11.530
to the family estate, ready to claim his share
of the inheritance.

00:21:11.530 --> 00:21:15.500
These events are all noted by the family’s
shady lawyer, who has big plans to usurp the

00:21:15.500 --> 00:21:17.549
family fortune himself.

00:21:17.549 --> 00:21:20.980
Unbeknownst to the family, he is actually
secretly working for their mortal enemies

00:21:20.980 --> 00:21:23.460
and business rivals to destroy them!

00:21:23.460 --> 00:21:26.370
The young woman laughs, shoving a handful
of potato chips into her mouth.

00:21:26.370 --> 00:21:28.850
“Oh man, I wouldn’t want to be in their
shoes now!

00:21:28.850 --> 00:21:31.460
That lawyer is playing them all like fiddles!”

00:21:31.460 --> 00:21:34.990
Suddenly, she startles, as if she’s just
waking up.

00:21:34.990 --> 00:21:35.990
Where is she?

00:21:35.990 --> 00:21:38.430
Wasn’t she just in that coffee shop?

00:21:38.430 --> 00:21:39.430
How is it that she’s at home?

00:21:39.430 --> 00:21:41.700
And why is she eating potato chips?

00:21:41.700 --> 00:21:45.050
She was sure that she threw out all the junk
food in the house; she must have bought a

00:21:45.050 --> 00:21:48.750
bag on her way back home from jogging, but
she literally cannot remember it!

00:21:48.750 --> 00:21:52.140
And what is she doing now, watching television
and eating junk food?

00:21:52.140 --> 00:21:55.700
In disgust, she grabs the remote and shuts
off the TV.

00:21:55.700 --> 00:21:59.520
She was supposed to be jogging and instead
she’s sitting at home and watching stupid

00:21:59.520 --> 00:22:01.010
soap operas!

00:22:01.010 --> 00:22:03.510
The thing that worries her the most is her
apparent black-out.

00:22:03.510 --> 00:22:07.159
She remembers nothing about her trip home
from the coffee shop, although the evidence

00:22:07.159 --> 00:22:11.029
of the potato chip bag indicates that she
must have stopped at a convenience store or

00:22:11.029 --> 00:22:12.860
supermarket on the way home.

00:22:12.860 --> 00:22:14.870
How could she forget something like that?

00:22:14.870 --> 00:22:19.679
“I really must be having a blood sugar issue,”
she tells herself reassuringly, even though

00:22:19.679 --> 00:22:22.570
deep down she knows that can’t be the case.

00:22:22.570 --> 00:22:26.750
She had the blackout AFTER eating the pastries
at the coffee shop, so that can’t be the

00:22:26.750 --> 00:22:27.750
cause.

00:22:27.750 --> 00:22:30.420
But she really doesn’t want to think about
that, so she puts it out of her head with

00:22:30.420 --> 00:22:33.580
a renewed promise to commit to her exercise
and fitness program.

00:22:33.580 --> 00:22:37.600
Over the next few days, she makes a valiant
effort to keep her promise.

00:22:37.600 --> 00:22:40.559
She cycles when she can, she jogs when she
remembers.

00:22:40.559 --> 00:22:42.730
And yet, the blackouts continue.

00:22:42.730 --> 00:22:47.010
And no matter where she is when she loses
her memory, she always recovers in the same

00:22:47.010 --> 00:22:51.430
place: back home on her couch, always in the
middle of eating some fatty junk food, always

00:22:51.430 --> 00:22:53.080
staring at the television set.

00:22:53.080 --> 00:22:57.330
Sure, she’s always had an unhealthy television
habit and she knows that trashy talk shows

00:22:57.330 --> 00:22:59.279
and silly soap operas are her biggest weakness….

00:22:59.279 --> 00:23:03.029
But it doesn’t make any sense that she would
be seeking them out when she’s in some kind

00:23:03.029 --> 00:23:04.850
of fugue state, right?

00:23:04.850 --> 00:23:08.390
As the weeks roll by, the young woman finds
that her weight keeps rising.

00:23:08.390 --> 00:23:13.010
When she steps onto the bathroom scale, she’s
shocked to see that the dial points to 200

00:23:13.010 --> 00:23:14.010
pounds.

00:23:14.010 --> 00:23:16.380
She’s doing everything right, she thinks,
how is that possible?

00:23:16.380 --> 00:23:20.340
How is it possible that she’s ballooned
up an extra 50 pounds since deciding to slim

00:23:20.340 --> 00:23:21.340
down?

00:23:21.340 --> 00:23:22.960
She can’t fit into her old gym clothes anymore.

00:23:22.960 --> 00:23:26.760
She can barely tug the spandex shorts up her
thighs and, even if she could, she’s afraid

00:23:26.760 --> 00:23:28.770
that they’re going to split apart.

00:23:28.770 --> 00:23:31.900
In desperation, she switches to an old stretchy
sweatsuit.

00:23:31.900 --> 00:23:34.790
It’s the only thing that she owns that still
fits her.

00:23:34.790 --> 00:23:38.440
“This is just a temporary set-back,” she
tells herself as she stares at her bloated

00:23:38.440 --> 00:23:40.049
reflection in the bathroom mirror.

00:23:40.049 --> 00:23:41.840
“I just have to work harder.”

00:23:41.840 --> 00:23:43.500
And she does.

00:23:43.500 --> 00:23:44.840
Or does she?

00:23:44.840 --> 00:23:48.450
When she goes to ride her bike, she finds
that it’s no longer strong enough to support

00:23:48.450 --> 00:23:49.450
her weight.

00:23:49.450 --> 00:23:52.520
She can’t perch on the seat comfortably
and the steel body frame starts to creak when

00:23:52.520 --> 00:23:54.539
she rests her full weight upon it.

00:23:54.539 --> 00:23:55.940
She steels her resolve.

00:23:55.940 --> 00:23:59.320
Sure, it might be embarrassing to go out in
public wearing an ill-fitting sweatsuit and

00:23:59.320 --> 00:24:03.260
riding a bike groaning under her bulk, but
she really has no choice.

00:24:03.260 --> 00:24:05.760
This time, she’s going to do it!

00:24:05.760 --> 00:24:07.970
And she probably did ride her bike to work,
right?

00:24:07.970 --> 00:24:09.210
She’s not sure.

00:24:09.210 --> 00:24:13.360
The next thing that she knows, she’s back
at home, spread across the couch, basking

00:24:13.360 --> 00:24:16.150
in the comforting glow of the television.

00:24:16.150 --> 00:24:20.559
The floor is covered in empty bags and cartons,
and her face is slathered with crumbs and

00:24:20.559 --> 00:24:21.559
sauce.

00:24:21.559 --> 00:24:24.990
The last thing that she remembers is that
she was just about to go for a bike ride…

00:24:24.990 --> 00:24:28.960
but now she’s back at home and it looks
like she just completely ruined her diet!

00:24:28.960 --> 00:24:32.260
She lifts her arm with some effort and stares
at her watch.

00:24:32.260 --> 00:24:34.059
She’s lost almost a whole day…

00:24:34.059 --> 00:24:36.230
That’s the longest blackout yet!

00:24:36.230 --> 00:24:39.940
She must have gone out cycling and made her
way home, where she decided to reward herself

00:24:39.940 --> 00:24:41.970
for her strenuous efforts with a little snack.

00:24:41.970 --> 00:24:44.370
That’s the only logical explanation.

00:24:44.370 --> 00:24:48.420
She tries to reassure herself that maybe she’s
past the worst of it, but she finds that these

00:24:48.420 --> 00:24:50.630
mysterious black-outs keep happening.

00:24:50.630 --> 00:24:54.919
They happen while she’s at work, while she’s
at the gym, while she’s out cycling… but

00:24:54.919 --> 00:25:00.230
she always comes to in the same place: sitting
on her sofa at home, in front of the TV, surrounded

00:25:00.230 --> 00:25:02.240
by the debris of a massive meal.

00:25:02.240 --> 00:25:06.260
Again, she wonders if maybe she’s having
some sort of reaction to her new low calorie

00:25:06.260 --> 00:25:07.260
diet?

00:25:07.260 --> 00:25:09.950
Maybe she’s been cutting back so far on
her food intake that she’s starting to have

00:25:09.950 --> 00:25:10.950
fainting spells?

00:25:10.950 --> 00:25:13.280
Maybe her diet food is tainted in some way?

00:25:13.280 --> 00:25:16.279
But that doesn’t explain why she keeps gaining
weight.

00:25:16.279 --> 00:25:18.010
The scale in her bathroom doesn’t lie.

00:25:18.010 --> 00:25:22.580
It keeps reporting higher and higher numbers
and as much as she tries to reassure herself

00:25:22.580 --> 00:25:26.740
that it must just be broken, her ever-tightening
clothes and ever-widening reflection tell

00:25:26.740 --> 00:25:27.740
her otherwise.

00:25:27.740 --> 00:25:31.590
Her trips to the gym become less and less
frequent, as she finds that other patrons

00:25:31.590 --> 00:25:33.559
have started to stare and whisper about her.

00:25:33.559 --> 00:25:36.179
Are they laughing at her for not being able
to control her weight?

00:25:36.179 --> 00:25:39.830
Are they whispering about how her new flab
is spilling from the confines of her sweat

00:25:39.830 --> 00:25:40.830
suit?

00:25:40.830 --> 00:25:43.419
She can’t even run on the treadmill for
more than a few minutes without being completely

00:25:43.419 --> 00:25:46.909
winded and she’s too wide to balance on
her bike now.

00:25:46.909 --> 00:25:50.600
The young woman has grown absolutely massive
to the point that she completely fills the

00:25:50.600 --> 00:25:51.600
whole couch.

00:25:51.600 --> 00:25:54.450
She chews her way through yet another bag
of potato chips.

00:25:54.450 --> 00:25:57.539
Her eyes never straying from the ever-chattering
television set.

00:25:57.539 --> 00:26:01.350
She barely moves from this spot, her tremendous
girth sinking into a permanent groove in the

00:26:01.350 --> 00:26:04.350
cushions as the couch springs groan.

00:26:04.350 --> 00:26:08.160
She barely notices, however, because she’s
much too intent on enjoying herself.

00:26:08.160 --> 00:26:13.190
She loves to eat and every bite brings her
untold joy, her taste buds tingling with delight.

00:26:13.190 --> 00:26:18.450
She is constantly full, so much so that she
feels slightly sick, so bloated that she feels

00:26:18.450 --> 00:26:23.580
like she might just burst, but she’s powerless
to resist the siren call of junk food.

00:26:23.580 --> 00:26:27.490
She scarfs down entire boxes of cookies and
cartons of ice cream without a thought, having

00:26:27.490 --> 00:26:30.580
turned into the very definition of a mindless
eater.

00:26:30.580 --> 00:26:34.980
Only occasionally does she rouse herself from
this stupor of gorging to reach for her telephone

00:26:34.980 --> 00:26:41.070
to order more take-out or more grocery delivery,
always choosing the most calorie-laden options.

00:26:41.070 --> 00:26:45.289
Other than eating, her attention is completely
devoted to her television set.

00:26:45.289 --> 00:26:49.370
She watches a constant stream of daytime talk
shows, laughing along with the studio audience

00:26:49.370 --> 00:26:53.130
as the hosts parade out an assortment of society’s
biggest freaks.

00:26:53.130 --> 00:26:57.070
Sometimes she’ll switch the channel to watch
soap operas, becoming so wrapped up in the

00:26:57.070 --> 00:27:01.370
ridiculous plot twists and melodramatic acting
that she completely forgets the passage of

00:27:01.370 --> 00:27:02.370
time.

00:27:02.370 --> 00:27:07.030
Her bicycle stands propped against the wall
in the hallway, completely forgotten and untouched

00:27:07.030 --> 00:27:08.580
now for months.

00:27:08.580 --> 00:27:12.630
At this point, all thoughts of losing weight
have utterly evaporated and all that she cares

00:27:12.630 --> 00:27:17.290
about is satisfying her appetites for junk
food and junk television.

00:27:17.290 --> 00:27:21.740
One day, she suddenly shakes her head and
looks down at herself in horror, as if seeing

00:27:21.740 --> 00:27:23.300
herself for the first time.

00:27:23.300 --> 00:27:24.300
“What the?!”

00:27:24.300 --> 00:27:25.590
she says in disbelief.

00:27:25.590 --> 00:27:29.500
She drops her half-eaten carton of ice cream
and grabs at her fleshy middle with her hands

00:27:29.500 --> 00:27:33.260
as if to make sure that it’s all her and
not some kind of crazy dream.

00:27:33.260 --> 00:27:37.710
Her hands sink deep into her new flesh and
she realizes to her shock that indeed she

00:27:37.710 --> 00:27:39.680
has eaten herself into morbid obesity.

00:27:39.680 --> 00:27:41.320
“How is this possible?

00:27:41.320 --> 00:27:42.940
I can’t be this big!

00:27:42.940 --> 00:27:44.030
I was only…

00:27:44.030 --> 00:27:45.030
only…”

00:27:45.030 --> 00:27:49.870
Her words trail off as the sound of an organ
sting from the soap opera on TV diverts her

00:27:49.870 --> 00:27:51.070
attention.

00:27:51.070 --> 00:27:54.710
Within seconds, her eyes have glazed over
and her hands move to pick up the dropped

00:27:54.710 --> 00:27:56.310
carton of ice cream.

00:27:56.310 --> 00:28:01.370
Her worries about her growing size forgotten,
she’s now only concerned with watching until

00:28:01.370 --> 00:28:03.430
the next commercial break.

00:28:03.430 --> 00:28:07.730
It might seem unbelievable that someone could
undergo such a startling physical and mental

00:28:07.730 --> 00:28:11.830
transformation, but what that young woman
experienced has led to her being classified

00:28:11.830 --> 00:28:14.710
by the foundation as SCP-2611.

00:28:14.710 --> 00:28:20.490
SCP-2611 is, as you might have expected, a
young woman currently weighing approximately

00:28:20.490 --> 00:28:21.919
500 pounds.

00:28:21.919 --> 00:28:26.130
Her mobility is limited due to her weight,
although SCP staff encourage her to take light

00:28:26.130 --> 00:28:31.279
exercise whenever possible in hopes of preventing
her mobility from deteriorating further.

00:28:31.279 --> 00:28:35.450
She also suffers from several health issues
related to her weight and lifestyle, including

00:28:35.450 --> 00:28:38.860
diabetes, for which she is receiving treatment
by foundation personnel.

00:28:38.860 --> 00:28:42.830
Her awareness of her situation and surroundings
is severely limited, as she spends most of

00:28:42.830 --> 00:28:47.010
her time in a stupor, but when she is lucid
she believes that she is in a special facility

00:28:47.010 --> 00:28:49.600
receiving treatment for her weight problem.

00:28:49.600 --> 00:28:57.020
In reality, SCP-2611 is under observation
because of SCP-2611-1.

00:28:57.020 --> 00:29:04.510
SCP-2611-1 is a mass of sentient fat located
on SCP-2611’s left side.

00:29:04.510 --> 00:29:10.450
SCP-2611-1 has become integrated with several
of SCP-2611’s vital organs, making it too

00:29:10.450 --> 00:29:17.140
dangerous to attempt to remove SCP-2611-1
via liposuction or other means.

00:29:17.140 --> 00:29:22.740
SCP-2611-1 has gradually exerted increasing
control over the mind and actions of its host,

00:29:22.740 --> 00:29:28.530
to the point that SCP-2611 is only fully conscious
for one to two hours daily.

00:29:28.530 --> 00:29:34.970
The rest of the time, SCP-2611-1 is fully
in control of its host’s behavior.

00:29:34.970 --> 00:29:41.289
Prior to coming to the SCP facility, SCP-2611-1
influenced its host to consume massive amounts

00:29:41.289 --> 00:29:46.080
of calories, leading to the mysterious and
sudden weight gain that we observed earlier.

00:29:46.080 --> 00:29:51.780
This was possibly an attempt by SCP-2611-1
to increase its own size and influence, but

00:29:51.780 --> 00:29:57.400
as of yet its reasons – as well as how it
exerts control over its host – are unknown.

00:29:57.400 --> 00:30:03.549
When in control, SCP-2611-1 can speak through
its host, communicating in standard American

00:30:03.549 --> 00:30:04.700
English.

00:30:04.700 --> 00:30:08.881
SCP-2611’s access to food has been limited
since her arrival at the Foundation, so as

00:30:08.881 --> 00:30:12.549
to prevent her weight gain from accelerating
to dangerous levels.

00:30:12.549 --> 00:30:18.300
Other than eating, SCP-2611-1’s main interest
appears to be daytime television.

00:30:18.300 --> 00:30:24.029
Attempts to communicate with SCP-2611-1 have
so far met with little success due to the

00:30:24.029 --> 00:30:27.559
anomaly’s limited attention span for anything
other than the minutiae of daytime television.

00:30:27.559 --> 00:30:33.980
In a conversation with one researcher, however,
SCP-2611-1 let slip that it preferred daytime

00:30:33.980 --> 00:30:38.950
television to the programming watched by “that
other guy,” suggesting that it lived inside

00:30:38.950 --> 00:30:43.419
a different host before it eventually took
up residence within the body of SCP-2611.

00:30:43.419 --> 00:30:49.860
At another point, while in the middle of a
conversation about a court drama, SCP-2611-1

00:30:49.860 --> 00:30:51.250
suddenly announced “Kill it.

00:30:51.250 --> 00:30:52.250
Kill it now.

00:30:52.250 --> 00:30:54.240
I don’t care if I die!”

00:30:54.240 --> 00:30:59.360
Staff believe that this might not have been
SCP-2611-1 at all, but rather the voice of

00:30:59.360 --> 00:31:05.350
SCP-2611 trying to break through the hypnotic
control of her parasite to call for help.

00:31:05.350 --> 00:31:11.070
At this time, no drastic action is recommended
until further observations can be made.

00:31:11.070 --> 00:31:16.080
SCP-2611 -1 does not appear to be contagious
and the way that it bonds with a host is unknown,

00:31:16.080 --> 00:31:18.809
so it is currently classified as safe.

00:31:18.809 --> 00:31:23.830
At the moment, SCP-2611-1 is the only known
instance of its kind.

00:31:23.830 --> 00:31:28.520
However, considering rising levels of obesity
worldwide, it is not unfathomable to think

00:31:28.520 --> 00:31:32.550
that there could be countless other instances
influencing the behavior of other hosts to

00:31:32.550 --> 00:31:35.389
dedicate their lives to consuming food and
television.

00:31:35.389 --> 00:31:36.389
Who knows?

00:31:36.389 --> 00:31:39.750
It’s not like most of us would need that
much convincing.

00:31:39.750 --> 00:31:43.930
“The young couple held hands as they walked
through the forest, the only light coming

00:31:43.930 --> 00:31:47.470
from the full moon which streamed down between
the branches.”

00:31:47.470 --> 00:31:49.909
The young woman is riveted by her friend’s
story.

00:31:49.909 --> 00:31:54.490
She’s never been a fan of ghost stories,
she scares too easily, but her friends insisted.

00:31:54.490 --> 00:31:59.269
“But what they didn’t know was that there
was something else out there in the forest,

00:31:59.269 --> 00:32:01.740
something watching them.”

00:32:01.740 --> 00:32:05.309
The young woman can’t help but look around,
scanning the forest to see if there’s anything

00:32:05.309 --> 00:32:09.710
out there watching her, but it’s too dark
to see anything past the dim ring of light

00:32:09.710 --> 00:32:11.269
cast by the campfire.

00:32:11.269 --> 00:32:14.639
“Just then, something emerged from the forest.

00:32:14.639 --> 00:32:19.160
The couple had no idea that it was just feet
behind them, matching them step for step.

00:32:19.160 --> 00:32:22.259
Slowly, it began to reach out towards them...

00:32:22.259 --> 00:32:23.259
“

00:32:23.259 --> 00:32:24.259
“What was it?”

00:32:24.259 --> 00:32:25.750
the young woman instinctually
asked.

00:32:25.750 --> 00:32:27.270
“It was…

00:32:27.270 --> 00:32:28.760
THE GASHADOKURO!”

00:32:28.760 --> 00:32:32.460
The young woman screams in fear as she is
grabbed from behind by a skeleton.

00:32:32.460 --> 00:32:36.179
But of course the laughing of her friends
clues her in immediately that this is not

00:32:36.179 --> 00:32:40.039
a real Gashadokuro, it’s just her stupid
friend in a mask.

00:32:40.039 --> 00:32:43.940
No one can contain their laughter, even the
young woman has to laugh a little.

00:32:43.940 --> 00:32:48.049
As her friend takes off his cheap, skull mask
she playfully hits him in the arm, “you

00:32:48.049 --> 00:32:49.049
jerk!”

00:32:49.049 --> 00:32:50.889
“You should have seen the look on your - “

00:32:50.889 --> 00:32:54.760
The gigantic, shrieking skeleton leaps from
the woods and picks up the young man, shoving

00:32:54.760 --> 00:32:59.179
him straight into his mouth and consuming
him, the boy crying out as his bones are snapped

00:32:59.179 --> 00:33:01.429
between its enormous jaws.

00:33:01.429 --> 00:33:05.930
Everyone screams and turns to run, but another
colossal skeleton emerges from the forest,

00:33:05.930 --> 00:33:10.769
picking up two of the group, one in each hand,
before smashing them together over and over,

00:33:10.769 --> 00:33:15.680
leaving nothing but a tenderized pile of flesh
between its bony fingers that it then begins

00:33:15.680 --> 00:33:17.360
to devour.

00:33:17.360 --> 00:33:19.039
The young woman doesn’t know what to do.

00:33:19.039 --> 00:33:21.840
She’s petrified with fear, unable to move
or even think.

00:33:21.840 --> 00:33:25.059
She’s grabbed from behind and turns to see
her friend who was telling the story.

00:33:25.059 --> 00:33:26.510
“Come on, we have to go!”

00:33:26.510 --> 00:33:30.320
She still doesn’t move, she can’t tear
herself away from watching the horror that’s

00:33:30.320 --> 00:33:33.900
playing out in front of her, but he grabs
her hand and forcefully pulls her into the

00:33:33.900 --> 00:33:35.620
forest behind him.

00:33:35.620 --> 00:33:38.820
As they run through the woods, they can hear
the sounds of their friends being eaten by

00:33:38.820 --> 00:33:40.049
the enormous skeletons.

00:33:40.049 --> 00:33:43.990
There’s nothing they can do to help them
though, all they can do is run.

00:33:43.990 --> 00:33:48.179
The two sprint as fast as they can through
the thick, dark forest, jumping over fallen

00:33:48.179 --> 00:33:51.340
trees, hoping that there’s solid ground
on the other side.

00:33:51.340 --> 00:33:54.690
The young woman’s foot catches in a root
and she falls hard to the ground.

00:33:54.690 --> 00:33:56.970
Her friend stops and quickly comes back.

00:33:56.970 --> 00:34:01.809
As he is helping her stand up out of the mud
they both notice something.

00:34:01.809 --> 00:34:02.809
A sound.

00:34:02.809 --> 00:34:03.870
The heavy thuds of another giant skeleton.

00:34:03.870 --> 00:34:05.269
And it’s getting closer to them.

00:34:05.269 --> 00:34:07.649
“Come on, we have to keep going!”

00:34:07.649 --> 00:34:12.460
With a loud shriek, a huge bony hand emerges
from the forest and grabs the young man.

00:34:12.460 --> 00:34:16.210
The young woman watches as he is lifted a
hundred feet into the air and stuffed whole

00:34:16.210 --> 00:34:18.659
into the gargantuan skeleton’s mouth.

00:34:18.659 --> 00:34:23.359
She steps slowly backwards, knowing that she
will soon meet the same fate, until the earth

00:34:23.359 --> 00:34:25.129
disappears beneath her feet.

00:34:25.129 --> 00:34:28.929
She tumbles down the hillside, somersaulting
end over end, crashing through the brush on

00:34:28.929 --> 00:34:31.560
the hillside until dropping over embankment.

00:34:31.560 --> 00:34:35.400
If the fall down the hill knocked her out
then the drop over the embankment was enough

00:34:35.400 --> 00:34:36.790
to wake her back up.

00:34:36.790 --> 00:34:40.429
Her wits come back just enough for her to
roll under the embankment’s ledge, and not

00:34:40.429 --> 00:34:41.920
a moment too soon.

00:34:41.920 --> 00:34:46.810
She huddles under the ledge and watches as
the two skeletons stride over her hiding place

00:34:46.810 --> 00:34:49.599
and continue on deeper into the forest.

00:34:49.599 --> 00:34:52.510
She listens until the sounds of their thudding
steps disappear.

00:34:52.510 --> 00:34:56.149
She doesn’t know what to do, should she
try to get back to the campsite and see if

00:34:56.149 --> 00:34:57.720
any of her friends are still alive?

00:34:57.720 --> 00:35:00.170
If they are, they might need her help.

00:35:00.170 --> 00:35:01.369
But what if there are more of these…

00:35:01.369 --> 00:35:02.369
things…

00:35:02.369 --> 00:35:03.369
out there?

00:35:03.369 --> 00:35:05.540
What if they come back, looking for her?

00:35:05.540 --> 00:35:10.390
Her mind races, unsure of what to do, and
she has trouble thinking clearly.

00:35:10.390 --> 00:35:13.600
Her ears are ringing from her tumble down
the hillside and her teeth audibly chatter

00:35:13.600 --> 00:35:14.600
in fear.

00:35:14.600 --> 00:35:18.670
As she debates her next move, trying to make
sense of the nightmare she’s found herself

00:35:18.670 --> 00:35:20.730
in, she suddenly notices something.

00:35:20.730 --> 00:35:24.430
A shadow cast by the moonlight begins to grow
on the ground in front of her.

00:35:24.430 --> 00:35:29.109
That’s when she realizes something else,
it’s not her teeth that are chattering.

00:35:29.109 --> 00:35:31.619
The sound is coming from somewhere else.

00:35:31.619 --> 00:35:36.150
She stands up and turns around to see a huge
skull slowly rising up behind her.

00:35:36.150 --> 00:35:40.660
The giant skeleton, this one even bigger than
the others, reaches out towards her.

00:35:40.660 --> 00:35:44.610
The girl closes her eyes, preparing to meet
her fate as the skeleton starts to shriek.

00:35:44.610 --> 00:35:47.119
But it’s a different kind of sound.

00:35:47.119 --> 00:35:51.109
She opens her eyes and is almost blinded by
the intense white light on the skeleton’s

00:35:51.109 --> 00:35:52.109
face.

00:35:52.109 --> 00:35:55.480
It sounds like it is shrieking in pain from
the light being cast on it, and she’s forced

00:35:55.480 --> 00:35:57.670
to turn away and shield her eyes.

00:35:57.670 --> 00:36:00.380
As she does so, she sees the source of the
light.

00:36:00.380 --> 00:36:02.130
It’s a man in a uniform.

00:36:02.130 --> 00:36:05.930
He looks like some sort of tactical police
officer, but instead of a gun, he’s holding

00:36:05.930 --> 00:36:09.030
an enormous flashlight that he’s pointing
at the skeleton.

00:36:09.030 --> 00:36:12.740
More men who are dressed just the same emerge
from the woods, blasting the skeleton with

00:36:12.740 --> 00:36:14.130
more light.

00:36:14.130 --> 00:36:17.390
It continues shrieking but seems helpless
to do anything.

00:36:17.390 --> 00:36:21.540
She watches as the skeleton seems to lose
its form, slowly disintegrating in the light

00:36:21.540 --> 00:36:23.730
until eventually it disappears completely

00:36:23.730 --> 00:36:28.300
Later, the young woman is sitting in the back
of a van with a blanket wrapped around her

00:36:28.300 --> 00:36:29.300
shoulders.

00:36:29.300 --> 00:36:34.080
One of the policemen, at least she thinks
he must be a policeman, brings her a hot drink.

00:36:34.080 --> 00:36:37.630
She still can’t believe what she saw that
night, the monstrous creatures that killed

00:36:37.630 --> 00:36:42.430
and ate her friends, it felt like it wasn’t
real, like she was watching a movie play out.

00:36:42.430 --> 00:36:45.760
“Were those… were those Gashadokuro?”

00:36:45.760 --> 00:36:46.760
she asks.

00:36:46.760 --> 00:36:50.640
A man in a white lab coat looks up from a
nearby table where he had been working on

00:36:50.640 --> 00:36:51.640
something.

00:36:51.640 --> 00:36:53.310
She thinks he must be a doctor of some kind.

00:36:53.310 --> 00:36:56.770
“Yes,” he tells her, “or something similar
to them.

00:36:56.770 --> 00:37:00.700
Maybe they inspired the myth of the Gashadokuro,
maybe the myth inspired them.

00:37:00.700 --> 00:37:02.560
We simply don’t know.”

00:37:02.560 --> 00:37:05.520
She asks, “all my friends are - “ “Dead”
he interjects.

00:37:05.520 --> 00:37:10.930
“I know this is hard for you, getting chased
by giant anomalous skeletons and watching

00:37:10.930 --> 00:37:13.680
your friends eaten alive would be tough for
anyone to deal with.”

00:37:13.680 --> 00:37:17.670
The young woman starts to sob, the weight
of the moment finally hitting her.

00:37:17.670 --> 00:37:20.310
“But I have some good news” he tells her.

00:37:20.310 --> 00:37:21.800
She sniffs and looks up at the doctor.

00:37:21.800 --> 00:37:26.579
“Believe it or not, I’ve seen this thing
happen a lot, and you don’t have to worry,

00:37:26.579 --> 00:37:28.619
because you’re not going to remember any
of this.”

00:37:28.619 --> 00:37:32.359
“Ouch” the young woman cries, and looks
down to see that he has jabbed her in the

00:37:32.359 --> 00:37:33.810
thigh with a syringe.

00:37:33.810 --> 00:37:37.660
She tries to push him away but she’s already
feeling weak and disoriented.

00:37:37.660 --> 00:37:42.109
She sways a little before her eyes shut and
she passes out.

00:37:42.109 --> 00:37:45.099
The young woman wakes in the cheery morning
light of her own bedroom.

00:37:45.099 --> 00:37:49.240
She yawns and stretches, the strange dream
about skeletons in the forest already drifting

00:37:49.240 --> 00:37:51.020
from her mind.

00:37:51.020 --> 00:37:52.020
Konnichiwa!

00:37:52.020 --> 00:37:57.240
I’m Dr. Bob and today’s file is a terrifying
anomalous entity referred to in Japan as the

00:37:57.240 --> 00:38:04.910
Gashadokuro, but known by the SCP Foundation
as SCP-2863… the Starving Skeletons.

00:38:04.910 --> 00:38:11.579
SCP-2863 is not just one, but an entire population
of entities that resemble gigantic human skeletons.

00:38:11.579 --> 00:38:15.859
These enormous, bony creatures’ size can
vary, but on average they are approximately

00:38:15.859 --> 00:38:17.020
30 meters tall.

00:38:17.020 --> 00:38:21.790
While their exact number is unknown, over
200 separate individual instances have been

00:38:21.790 --> 00:38:26.280
identified and catalogued, with each having
distinctive markings such as their bones having

00:38:26.280 --> 00:38:29.910
different types of damage or burn marks present.

00:38:29.910 --> 00:38:35.069
SCP-2863 instances are currently found exclusively
in Japan, where they will appear only after

00:38:35.069 --> 00:38:36.069
sunset.

00:38:36.069 --> 00:38:40.040
It is still unknown if the skeletons are sapient,
though they do appear sentient as they engage

00:38:40.040 --> 00:38:44.170
in their primary behavior of hunting down
and consuming humans.

00:38:44.170 --> 00:38:48.180
Despite their enormous size, they are capable
of moving very quietly when they want to,

00:38:48.180 --> 00:38:52.329
though there have been reports from survivors
of their appearance being preceded by a rattling

00:38:52.329 --> 00:38:57.050
like sound, which may be their own teeth or
giant bones hitting against each other.

00:38:57.050 --> 00:39:01.300
Once they have caught a human, they will immediately
devour them, with the human’s blood appearing

00:39:01.300 --> 00:39:05.660
to be absorbed directly into their bones,
since they lack any digestive organs.

00:39:05.660 --> 00:39:09.319
It is unknown if they require the blood of
humans for sustenance, or if their predatory

00:39:09.319 --> 00:39:12.359
behavior is motivated by something else.

00:39:12.359 --> 00:39:17.460
Monitoring and control of SCP-2863 instances
was previously the responsibility of the Imperial

00:39:17.460 --> 00:39:20.700
Japanese Anomalous Matters Examination Agency.

00:39:20.700 --> 00:39:26.850
The IJAMEA, which as the name suggests, was
Imperial Japan’s answer to the SCP Foundation,

00:39:26.850 --> 00:39:30.589
tasked with investigating the strange anomalies
within their own borders for the benefit of

00:39:30.589 --> 00:39:32.670
the empire.

00:39:32.670 --> 00:39:36.740
Several of the IJAMEA agents who had been
investigating the Gashadokuro at the end of

00:39:36.740 --> 00:39:41.520
World War 2 transferred to the SCP Foundation
when the Anomalous Matters Examination Agency

00:39:41.520 --> 00:39:44.790
was disbanded and continued their work on
the anomaly.

00:39:44.790 --> 00:39:48.870
They also provided their original files on
the anomaly, which gave the Foundation their

00:39:48.870 --> 00:39:52.400
first information on the giant anomalous skeletons.

00:39:52.400 --> 00:39:55.819
According to the IJAMEA’s translated file:

00:39:55.819 --> 00:40:00.839
“Gashadokuro are created by mass death,
by the concentrated suffering of hundreds.

00:40:00.839 --> 00:40:05.440
While the Gashadokuro will eventually fade,
they remain for centuries after their creation,

00:40:05.440 --> 00:40:08.390
lingering until their sorrow has diffused
and faded.

00:40:08.390 --> 00:40:11.060
There is no way to hasten this process.”

00:40:11.060 --> 00:40:16.030
The IJAMEA file also explained that while
conventional weaponry is useless against the

00:40:16.030 --> 00:40:21.060
anomalous skeletons, light can be used to
banish the creatures, and either natural daylight

00:40:21.060 --> 00:40:23.530
or manmade light will suffice.

00:40:23.530 --> 00:40:27.521
When exposed to light, the skeletons will
start to lose their corporeal form until they

00:40:27.521 --> 00:40:29.510
fade away completely.

00:40:29.510 --> 00:40:35.130
This doesn’t kill instances of SCP-2863
though, it only temporarily neutralizes them,

00:40:35.130 --> 00:40:39.430
and appearances of the same instance will
often be reported the very next night.

00:40:39.430 --> 00:40:44.819
Just as the IJAMEA had noted in their file,
the SCP Foundation also made the connection

00:40:44.819 --> 00:40:48.950
between SCP-2863 and locations of mass suffering.

00:40:48.950 --> 00:40:55.069
While Imperial Japan’s anomalous investigation
unit identified 203 instances of SCP-2863,

00:40:55.069 --> 00:40:59.090
the Foundation has since become aware of three
others, each of which were found at sites

00:40:59.090 --> 00:41:01.720
connected to death and destruction.

00:41:01.720 --> 00:41:05.990
The first new instance was found near Nanjing,
China, the location of an especially brutal

00:41:05.990 --> 00:41:10.990
massacre during the second world war that
may have resulted in as many as 300,000 deaths.

00:41:10.990 --> 00:41:16.940
It’s believed that the entity first appeared
in this location in 1938, just after the massacre,

00:41:16.940 --> 00:41:20.180
while the city was still under the control
of Imperial Japan.

00:41:20.180 --> 00:41:24.600
This has led some to speculate that the locations
where Gashadokuro appear are inherently tied

00:41:24.600 --> 00:41:29.470
to the borders of Japan as a nation, and have
fluctuated with geopolitical changes.

00:41:29.470 --> 00:41:33.810
The second was discovered several kilometers
from Fukuoka City in Japan, a city that saw

00:41:33.810 --> 00:41:37.131
heavy firebombing by Allied Forces during
the war.

00:41:37.131 --> 00:41:41.890
The third was identified in 2011 in the Tōhoku
region of Japan, which is where the Fukushima

00:41:41.890 --> 00:41:43.710
nuclear disaster occurred.

00:41:43.710 --> 00:41:47.369
Each of these new instances appeared to bear
injuries consistent with someone who suffered

00:41:47.369 --> 00:41:51.609
through the nearby tragedies, with the first
showing evidence of crushed bones, the second

00:41:51.609 --> 00:41:55.760
appearing to have suffered intense burning,
and the third missing teeth which is common

00:41:55.760 --> 00:41:58.410
in cases of extreme radiation poisoning.

00:41:58.410 --> 00:42:02.310
These specific injuries add further evidence
of the connection the Gashadokuro may have

00:42:02.310 --> 00:42:04.050
to human misery.

00:42:04.050 --> 00:42:09.520
The impermanent nature of SCP-2863 and their
ability to manifest even after being neutralized

00:42:09.520 --> 00:42:14.460
has made long term containment of this anomaly
all but impossible, and they have been classified

00:42:14.460 --> 00:42:15.980
as Keter.

00:42:15.980 --> 00:42:19.980
In the event that an instance is spotted,
Mobile Task Force Omicron-3 is dispatched

00:42:19.980 --> 00:42:23.869
to the area where they will attempt to neutralize
the entity through the use of high-powered

00:42:23.869 --> 00:42:25.069
floodlights.

00:42:25.069 --> 00:42:30.559
Any civilians who are exposed to SCP-2863
and survive are given Class-A amnestics so

00:42:30.559 --> 00:42:34.559
that they can hopefully move on with their
lives and forget their horrifying encounter

00:42:34.559 --> 00:42:36.680
with the Starving Skeletons.

00:42:36.680 --> 00:42:41.820
A storm rages outside of the little old house,
as inside, a little old woman bounces a little

00:42:41.820 --> 00:42:44.030
baby on her little old knee.

00:42:44.030 --> 00:42:49.020
The baby coos and laughs as the old woman
makes funny faces and noises for the child,

00:42:49.020 --> 00:42:52.150
trying to keep it entertained as they wait
for his parents to return from their much

00:42:52.150 --> 00:42:54.630
needed night out by themselves.

00:42:54.630 --> 00:42:58.920
The old woman herself needs a rest now though,
she’s forgotten how exhausting it can be

00:42:58.920 --> 00:43:00.950
to watch a child.

00:43:00.950 --> 00:43:01.950
“Okay, that’s enough.

00:43:01.950 --> 00:43:05.410
It’s time for both of us to take a little
nap before your parents get back.”

00:43:05.410 --> 00:43:09.210
She gets up and takes the baby into a nearby
room that looks as though it was a nursery

00:43:09.210 --> 00:43:12.190
at one time, but it hasn’t been used for
many years.

00:43:12.190 --> 00:43:17.640
As she goes to set the child into the crib,
a strong gust of wind blows through the room.

00:43:17.640 --> 00:43:21.630
She places the baby down and rushes to the
window and closes it shut.

00:43:21.630 --> 00:43:24.210
It must have been left cracked open by mistake.

00:43:24.210 --> 00:43:25.210
Brrr.

00:43:25.210 --> 00:43:28.910
The room is cold from the wind, but she has
just the thing to fix that.

00:43:28.910 --> 00:43:32.109
She moves to a small closet and opens the
creaky door.

00:43:32.109 --> 00:43:35.970
The little old woman strains to reach up to
the top shelf and feels around.

00:43:35.970 --> 00:43:37.740
Ah, there it is!

00:43:37.740 --> 00:43:43.160
She pulls down a baby blanket, a soft baby
blue with colorful animals printed on it.

00:43:43.160 --> 00:43:46.650
It looks as though it’s been up there for
a long time and she gives it a good shake

00:43:46.650 --> 00:43:48.559
before walking back to the crib.

00:43:48.559 --> 00:43:50.090
“Look what we have here!

00:43:50.090 --> 00:43:52.059
It’s your daddy’s own blankie!”

00:43:52.059 --> 00:43:53.340
She gives it another shake.

00:43:53.340 --> 00:43:55.540
“There we go, good as new.”

00:43:55.540 --> 00:43:59.460
She leans into the crib and wraps the small,
helpless child in the blanket before giving

00:43:59.460 --> 00:44:01.240
him a gentle kiss on the forehead.

00:44:01.240 --> 00:44:03.000
“Now you get some sleep.

00:44:03.000 --> 00:44:06.760
Your mommy and daddy will be back before you
know it and we want to show them what a good

00:44:06.760 --> 00:44:08.450
babysitter grammie, don’t we?

00:44:08.450 --> 00:44:10.900
That way I get to see you all the time.”

00:44:10.900 --> 00:44:15.400
The little old woman switches off the light
and exits the room, leaving the door cracked

00:44:15.400 --> 00:44:17.180
just a few inches.

00:44:17.180 --> 00:44:20.480
She heads back to the couch and plops down
on it.

00:44:20.480 --> 00:44:23.510
Almost as soon as she does though, the baby
starts crying.

00:44:23.510 --> 00:44:28.140
With a sigh she gets back up and goes back
to the nursery.

00:44:28.140 --> 00:44:31.370
“What’s the matter, little dear?” she
says as she turns the lights on.

00:44:31.370 --> 00:44:35.070
“Oh no!” she rushes to the crib, “you’ve
kicked your blanket off!

00:44:35.070 --> 00:44:36.070
You must be freezing.”

00:44:36.070 --> 00:44:40.300
She grabs the blanket from the end of the
crib and tucks it around the baby once again.

00:44:40.300 --> 00:44:42.849
“There you go, that’s better.”

00:44:42.849 --> 00:44:47.069
The old woman leaves the room and quietly
closes the door shut, leaving it open just

00:44:47.069 --> 00:44:48.600
a few inches.

00:44:48.600 --> 00:44:52.950
The moment she turns around to go back to
the couch though, the crying starts again.

00:44:52.950 --> 00:44:57.369
With a sigh she opens the door and goes back
into the room.

00:44:57.369 --> 00:45:00.740
Once again, the blanket is stuffed at the
end of the crib where the baby has kicked

00:45:00.740 --> 00:45:01.740
it off.

00:45:01.740 --> 00:45:02.740
“Fine.

00:45:02.740 --> 00:45:03.740
Don’t want a blanket?

00:45:03.740 --> 00:45:04.740
That’s fine.”

00:45:04.740 --> 00:45:08.780
She picks the baby up out of the crib and
rocks him in her arms until it stops crying.

00:45:08.780 --> 00:45:10.250
She sets him back in the crib.

00:45:10.250 --> 00:45:11.820
“There you go.

00:45:11.820 --> 00:45:12.820
No blankets.

00:45:12.820 --> 00:45:14.640
Just please, get some sleep.

00:45:14.640 --> 00:45:16.050
Grammie’s tired.”

00:45:16.050 --> 00:45:19.120
The old woman takes the blanket out of the
crib and leaves the room.

00:45:19.120 --> 00:45:24.470
She closes the door most of the way and, incredibly,
this time the child remains silent.

00:45:24.470 --> 00:45:28.200
The old woman resumes her place on the couch
and starts to yawn.

00:45:28.200 --> 00:45:32.470
Just as she does, the wind outside picks up
and howls loudly.

00:45:32.470 --> 00:45:33.570
The old woman shivers.

00:45:33.570 --> 00:45:36.250
She looks next to her and spots the baby blanket.

00:45:36.250 --> 00:45:40.860
She picks it up and examines the cute animal
print, remembering when her own son was a

00:45:40.860 --> 00:45:42.150
baby wrapped in it.

00:45:42.150 --> 00:45:46.260
She smiles at the happy thought and throws
the blanket around her shoulders.

00:45:46.260 --> 00:45:50.160
She leans back on the couch and finds that
her eyes are growing very heavy.

00:45:50.160 --> 00:45:51.780
She’ll rest them for just a moment.

00:45:51.780 --> 00:45:53.530
She won’t fall asleep.

00:45:53.530 --> 00:45:54.839
She’ll just… rest.

00:45:54.839 --> 00:45:55.839
“Mom?

00:45:55.839 --> 00:45:57.030
It’s us, we’re back.

00:45:57.030 --> 00:46:01.270
Thanks again for - “ The couple both scream
when they enter the house to find that the

00:46:01.270 --> 00:46:04.589
old woman is lying facedown on the floor in
a pool of blood.

00:46:04.589 --> 00:46:08.700
The source of the blood is obvious, chunks
of flesh from her shoulders and upper back

00:46:08.700 --> 00:46:13.690
have been torn out, leaving jagged holes,
as if she were mauled by an animal.

00:46:13.690 --> 00:46:17.869
As the man runs to the old woman, trying to
do anything he can to help her, the woman

00:46:17.869 --> 00:46:19.520
runs to the nursery to find…

00:46:19.520 --> 00:46:22.300
That the baby is sleeping peacefully in his
crib.

00:46:22.300 --> 00:46:26.619
The woman picks up the child, tears streaming
down her cheeks, and returns to the living

00:46:26.619 --> 00:46:30.000
room to see her husband kneeling beside his
dead mother.

00:46:30.000 --> 00:46:34.130
Both the husband and wife are so shocked by
what they have found that neither notices

00:46:34.130 --> 00:46:39.329
the baby blanket lying on the couch, or that
the cruel, blood covered mouth on it is slowly

00:46:39.329 --> 00:46:43.130
fading from view until it disappears completely.

00:46:43.130 --> 00:46:46.400
There is little in life that is more comforting
than a favorite blanket.

00:46:46.400 --> 00:46:49.839
Perhaps you’ve had the same one since you
were a child, or you have a heavy one that

00:46:49.839 --> 00:46:53.700
you like to wrap yourself in when you’re
feeling down, or maybe it’s just one that’s

00:46:53.700 --> 00:46:57.280
especially fluffy and warm that you’d do
anything to keep.

00:46:57.280 --> 00:47:01.880
Today’s anomaly plays on those very feelings,
using them against its victims to become one

00:47:01.880 --> 00:47:06.280
of the more insidious predatory anomalies
in the SCP Foundation archives.

00:47:06.280 --> 00:47:12.770
This is SCP-799, also known as… the Carnivorous
Blanket.

00:47:12.770 --> 00:47:18.040
SCP-799 is a type of creature that can vary
in shape, size, and appearance, but, as the

00:47:18.040 --> 00:47:22.089
name implies, always takes the form of a blanket
of some kind.

00:47:22.089 --> 00:47:26.460
The exact material the anomaly is made out
of is unknown, but it is a very soft fiber

00:47:26.460 --> 00:47:30.579
that in many ways resembles a high-quality
merino wool blend, though one that retains

00:47:30.579 --> 00:47:33.830
heat even more effectively than its natural
counterpart.

00:47:33.830 --> 00:47:39.400
SCP-799’s weight can vary from between half
a kilogram all the way to six kilograms, and

00:47:39.400 --> 00:47:44.520
while examples have been found in nearly every
color imaginable, it seems predisposed towards

00:47:44.520 --> 00:47:48.740
pastels, and will frequently have patterns
featuring stylized, friendly depictions of

00:47:48.740 --> 00:47:50.020
various animals.

00:47:50.020 --> 00:47:55.880
Both the pastel colors and the childish patterns
are especially common in instances of SCP-799

00:47:55.880 --> 00:48:01.190
that weigh less than two kilograms and would
colloquially be known as “baby blankets.”

00:48:01.190 --> 00:48:06.869
While SCP-799 is undoubtedly a living organism,
there is some debate as to whether it is itself

00:48:06.869 --> 00:48:09.790
an animal, or perhaps a type of fungal colony.

00:48:09.790 --> 00:48:15.319
Instances of 799 are incapable of locomotion,
lying motionless for long periods of time,

00:48:15.319 --> 00:48:17.559
and require little in the way of nutrition.

00:48:17.559 --> 00:48:21.340
What small amount they do need, they appear
to be able to gain almost entirely from the

00:48:21.340 --> 00:48:26.170
organic particles present in normal household
dust, such as animal dander and dead human

00:48:26.170 --> 00:48:27.170
skin cells.

00:48:27.170 --> 00:48:31.510
The blanket feeds via a series of minute,
filter feeding mouth-like structures that

00:48:31.510 --> 00:48:35.619
are spread across the surface of the creature,
which wait for nutrients to fall into them,

00:48:35.619 --> 00:48:38.670
not unlike a sponge on the ocean floor.

00:48:38.670 --> 00:48:43.300
Instances of SCP-799 can survive for quite
a while in this state, and one specimen was

00:48:43.300 --> 00:48:48.030
noted as having lived for multiple years in
a damp attic, subsisting entirely on the small

00:48:48.030 --> 00:48:52.140
organic particles that would drift down from
the rafters above.

00:48:52.140 --> 00:48:56.559
Should an instance of SCP-799 be forced to
go for long periods of time without a source

00:48:56.559 --> 00:49:01.299
of nutrition though, like when, for example,
it is placed inside of a sealed closet or

00:49:01.299 --> 00:49:05.960
drawer, it will begin to undergo certain physical
changes, which result in it metamorphosing

00:49:05.960 --> 00:49:07.910
into its predatory form.

00:49:07.910 --> 00:49:11.790
These changes aren’t noticeable from only
casual observation, and consist of the blanket

00:49:11.790 --> 00:49:16.210
converting its many filter feeding mouths
into a single, large one, that is lined with

00:49:16.210 --> 00:49:18.990
multiple rows of extremely sharp teeth.

00:49:18.990 --> 00:49:23.400
The blanket creature also develops a new form
of tissue inside its cloth-like structure,

00:49:23.400 --> 00:49:27.740
one that is similar to muscle and capable
of contracting and squeezing.

00:49:27.740 --> 00:49:33.280
Once its metamorphosis is complete, the instance
of SCP-799 will lie in wait for an unsuspecting

00:49:33.280 --> 00:49:36.950
creature to cover themselves with it or wrap
it around their body.

00:49:36.950 --> 00:49:41.240
Once they do, the blanket will bide its time
until they enter a state of rest, usually

00:49:41.240 --> 00:49:45.400
waiting for them to fall asleep entirely,
at which point, it’s feeding phase will

00:49:45.400 --> 00:49:46.680
begin.

00:49:46.680 --> 00:49:50.870
Once the creature has detected that its victim
is dormant, it will use its newly formed muscle

00:49:50.870 --> 00:49:54.980
to latch onto them, holding them in place
as it opens its tooth-lined maw.

00:49:54.980 --> 00:50:00.520
It will begin to bite at its confined prey,
tearing off several kilograms of flesh, bone,

00:50:00.520 --> 00:50:05.329
and any other organic material it can, swallowing
it, and converting it into a thin slurry that

00:50:05.329 --> 00:50:07.980
it spreads through its body almost immediately.

00:50:07.980 --> 00:50:13.130
This traumatic, violent process nearly always
leads to the victim dying of blood loss.

00:50:13.130 --> 00:50:18.020
Within ten minutes of the attack, the mouth
on SCP-799 will have been completely reabsorbed,

00:50:18.020 --> 00:50:22.220
leaving no signs that it is anything other
than a normal, everyday blanket, though one

00:50:22.220 --> 00:50:26.140
which now mysteriously weighs several kilograms
more than it did before.

00:50:26.140 --> 00:50:32.400
By forty minutes after the attack, the entire
digestive system within SCP-799 will have

00:50:32.400 --> 00:50:36.480
de-metamorphosed back into its original form,
with the single digestive tract being changed

00:50:36.480 --> 00:50:39.890
once again to the many dispersed filter feeding
mouths.

00:50:39.890 --> 00:50:45.619
While SCP-799 is more than happy to feed on
any warm blooded animal, including humans,

00:50:45.619 --> 00:50:49.200
it shows no interest in coldblooded ones or
inanimate objects.

00:50:49.200 --> 00:50:53.829
It appears then that its senses may be limited
to only touch and heat, using those as signs

00:50:53.829 --> 00:50:57.040
that it is now wrapped around a potential
meal.

00:50:57.040 --> 00:51:02.320
Adding to the strangeness of SCP-799 is that
it reproduces through “budding,” like

00:51:02.320 --> 00:51:04.130
flatworms and corals.

00:51:04.130 --> 00:51:08.140
When it has absorbed enough nutrients and
sufficiently increased its mass, either very

00:51:08.140 --> 00:51:12.549
slowly through filter feeding or rapidly via
its carnivorous phase, it will begin to take

00:51:12.549 --> 00:51:14.560
on a quilt-like appearance.

00:51:14.560 --> 00:51:18.780
Over several weeks, one of the quilt squares
will puff up and slide off the blanket.

00:51:18.780 --> 00:51:23.910
This new, smaller instance will resemble a
doily or throw pillow, until it too begins

00:51:23.910 --> 00:51:25.660
to feed and grow.

00:51:25.660 --> 00:51:29.740
The new instance is a perfect clone of its
parent, identical in every way, and it will

00:51:29.740 --> 00:51:34.200
eventually grow to a similar size and begin
its own reproductive cycle.

00:51:34.200 --> 00:51:39.670
It is unknown exactly how long it takes SCP-799
to reach full maturity, but the current best

00:51:39.670 --> 00:51:44.080
guess is that when kept in its filter feeding
phase, an instance will reproduce every fifty

00:51:44.080 --> 00:51:46.450
to sixty years.

00:51:46.450 --> 00:51:51.089
Instances of SCP-799 are quite prevalent across
the planet, and the SCP Foundation currently

00:51:51.089 --> 00:51:53.630
has hundreds of examples in containment.

00:51:53.630 --> 00:51:58.210
Unfortunately, it is unknown just how many
still exist in the wild, as it is very difficult

00:51:58.210 --> 00:52:03.280
to identify instances with one of the only
reliable means being through genetic testing.

00:52:03.280 --> 00:52:08.049
Should any instances be located though, they
are to be destroyed immediately, as the Foundation

00:52:08.049 --> 00:52:12.570
already has a large enough population in containment
for research purposes, and they pose too much

00:52:12.570 --> 00:52:16.799
of a risk both in terms of harm and exposure
to the general public.

00:52:16.799 --> 00:52:22.450
SCP-799 has been classified as Euclid, and
each instance is kept in its own, separate,

00:52:22.450 --> 00:52:24.760
bio-containment cell at Bio-Site-66.

00:52:24.760 --> 00:52:28.859
Dust is regularly collected from the on site,
D-Class personnel dorms and is sprinkled over

00:52:28.859 --> 00:52:32.930
the blankets regularly to keep them in their
filter feeding state, though only just enough

00:52:32.930 --> 00:52:36.980
to hopefully maintain their size and not allow
them to reproduce.

00:52:36.980 --> 00:52:40.790
Should any small, cloth objects appear in
their containment lockers, it is to be removed

00:52:40.790 --> 00:52:43.349
immediately and contained separately.

00:52:43.349 --> 00:52:48.730
SCP-799 isn’t the only predatory creature
that resembles a cloth good in Foundation

00:52:48.730 --> 00:52:54.670
containment, and research into possible connections
to SCP-1626, the oversized gray hooded sweatshirt

00:52:54.670 --> 00:52:59.940
that sends penetrating fibers into anyone
unlucky enough to put it on, is ongoing.

00:52:59.940 --> 00:53:04.630
The early morning sun rises, casting its radiance
over the field.

00:53:04.630 --> 00:53:07.180
The shepherd stands guard, watching his sheep
graze.

00:53:07.180 --> 00:53:12.740
It’s a beautiful morning, the sheep are
quiet, and his loyal dog is at his side, but

00:53:12.740 --> 00:53:15.250
the shepherd is perturbed.

00:53:15.250 --> 00:53:17.440
He is certain that there are sheep missing.

00:53:17.440 --> 00:53:21.619
He wanders through the field, counting the
sheep off one by one, but no matter how many

00:53:21.619 --> 00:53:24.640
times he counts he simply cannot make the
numbers gel.

00:53:24.640 --> 00:53:27.080
There are definitely five sheep missing.

00:53:27.080 --> 00:53:28.960
How is this even possible?

00:53:28.960 --> 00:53:31.940
His family has been in the sheep herding business
for generations.

00:53:31.940 --> 00:53:35.890
They survive on the money that they make from
shearing, selling, and spinning the wool from

00:53:35.890 --> 00:53:36.890
these sheep.

00:53:36.890 --> 00:53:41.559
They can’t afford to simply lose sheep – that’s
money directly from the family wallet, food

00:53:41.559 --> 00:53:43.530
directly off the family table!

00:53:43.530 --> 00:53:45.730
But even worse, it’s a matter of pride.

00:53:45.730 --> 00:53:49.720
He likes to think of himself as a good shepherd
who cares about his flock.

00:53:49.720 --> 00:53:53.840
Losing a single sheep is a failure of his
responsibility to his charges and he can’t

00:53:53.840 --> 00:53:54.840
stand it.

00:53:54.840 --> 00:53:58.320
He knows that if he returns to the farm without
those five missing sheep, he’s going to

00:53:58.320 --> 00:53:59.320
be in big trouble.

00:53:59.320 --> 00:54:02.780
He’s already thinking about the lecture
he’s going to get from his father.

00:54:02.780 --> 00:54:04.160
And that’s if he’s lucky!

00:54:04.160 --> 00:54:05.670
One missing sheep might be forgiven.

00:54:05.670 --> 00:54:06.810
But five?

00:54:06.810 --> 00:54:10.569
He’ll be lucky if his family doesn’t throw
him out of the house for his failure.

00:54:10.569 --> 00:54:13.490
It’s imperative that he find them and bring
them back.

00:54:13.490 --> 00:54:16.480
He pats the head of his trusty sheep dog.

00:54:16.480 --> 00:54:20.430
Every shepherd, of course, has a sheep dog
to help them keep their flock safe.

00:54:20.430 --> 00:54:24.570
His dog has been with him for many years and
she has never failed in the past.

00:54:24.570 --> 00:54:28.210
She keeps watch over the flock as if they
were her own puppies, so the shepherd thinks

00:54:28.210 --> 00:54:32.120
it very strange that his dog didn’t bark
to sound the alarm when the missing sheep

00:54:32.120 --> 00:54:33.540
started to wander off.

00:54:33.540 --> 00:54:36.840
Could something more sinister be at play here?

00:54:36.840 --> 00:54:37.940
Maybe someone stole his sheep?

00:54:37.940 --> 00:54:42.109
If a thief came during the night to sneak
away with the lost sheep, that might explain

00:54:42.109 --> 00:54:44.690
why they were able to get away without his
dog knowing.

00:54:44.690 --> 00:54:48.790
They might have been clever enough to cause
some kind of distraction to keep her busy?

00:54:48.790 --> 00:54:53.130
The shepherd notices that the fence at the
edge of the field is broken.

00:54:53.130 --> 00:54:55.140
This must be how the missing sheep got away.

00:54:55.140 --> 00:54:56.890
He examines the splintered wood.

00:54:56.890 --> 00:55:01.140
It’s not a natural break, because the wood
is sturdy and far from rotten.

00:55:01.140 --> 00:55:05.900
Someone… or something... must have broken
the fence sometime last night.

00:55:05.900 --> 00:55:09.170
He clutches at his shepherd’s crook, his
brow set in determination.

00:55:09.170 --> 00:55:10.510
This isn’t good.

00:55:10.510 --> 00:55:14.400
It’s looking more and more likely that thieves
are behind this disappearance.

00:55:14.400 --> 00:55:17.619
He needs to track them down, but he will have
to be careful.

00:55:17.619 --> 00:55:21.190
Sheep thieves are usually desperate men and
they might resort to violence to protect their

00:55:21.190 --> 00:55:22.450
ill-gotten gains.

00:55:22.450 --> 00:55:27.250
A glint of sunlight flashes against something
shiny caught on the fence, catching the shepherd’s

00:55:27.250 --> 00:55:28.250
eye.

00:55:28.250 --> 00:55:30.430
He scoops it up and examines it closely.

00:55:30.430 --> 00:55:32.530
It looks like a scrap of fabric.

00:55:32.530 --> 00:55:36.150
Could it be that the thief snagged his clothes
against the fence as he made his escape?

00:55:36.150 --> 00:55:40.160
The fabric is thin and brittle and doesn’t
look like any sort of material that the shepherd

00:55:40.160 --> 00:55:41.740
has ever seen before.

00:55:41.740 --> 00:55:44.510
It more resembles a scrap of snakeskin than
a scrap of shirt.

00:55:44.510 --> 00:55:47.150
But it’s his only lead, so it will have
to do.

00:55:47.150 --> 00:55:51.200
He holds the scrap to his dog’s nose and
allows her to sniff it.

00:55:51.200 --> 00:55:54.420
She snuffles at it and then immediately raises
her ears, alert.

00:55:54.420 --> 00:55:57.500
He commands her to follow the scent and she
obeys.

00:55:57.500 --> 00:56:00.010
She puts her nose to the ground and starts
to track.

00:56:00.010 --> 00:56:01.480
He follows her.

00:56:01.480 --> 00:56:03.980
The dog leads him out of the field and across
the way.

00:56:03.980 --> 00:56:07.680
He is surprised to see that she is leading
him toward a nearby forest.

00:56:07.680 --> 00:56:09.220
He gulps in sudden fear.

00:56:09.220 --> 00:56:13.660
He’s never been into these woods and, in
fact, his family has often warned him to stay

00:56:13.660 --> 00:56:15.089
away.

00:56:15.089 --> 00:56:19.150
Everyone in his village loves to repeat rumors
that this forest is haunted, filled with all

00:56:19.150 --> 00:56:20.819
sorts of scary monsters and demons.

00:56:20.819 --> 00:56:24.260
Why would the sheep thief brave these cursed
woods?

00:56:24.260 --> 00:56:26.650
On the other hand, that would make sense,
though, wouldn’t it?

00:56:26.650 --> 00:56:30.530
A thief would need a lair that was hidden
and difficult to approach, so that they wouldn’t

00:56:30.530 --> 00:56:32.339
have to worry about getting caught.

00:56:32.339 --> 00:56:34.349
These woods would be a perfect hiding place.

00:56:34.349 --> 00:56:37.059
Still, he can’t help but wonder.

00:56:37.059 --> 00:56:40.910
His dog lifts her head and whines at him,
indicating that he should follow.

00:56:40.910 --> 00:56:43.760
He steels his resolve and continues on.

00:56:43.760 --> 00:56:48.270
His fingers clutch tightly to his staff, his
knuckles going white with fear and tension.

00:56:48.270 --> 00:56:52.401
He’s almost convinced that he might see
a monster here in these woods, and he’s

00:56:52.401 --> 00:56:54.450
ready to defend himself from the worst.

00:56:54.450 --> 00:56:57.890
Eventually, his dog leads him into an unexpected
clearing.

00:56:57.890 --> 00:56:59.800
The shepherd blinks in amazement.

00:56:59.800 --> 00:57:05.270
Standing at the center of the glen is what
appears to be the remains of an ancient temple!

00:57:05.270 --> 00:57:08.369
He hasn’t given much thought to the history
of this place, to all the people who lived

00:57:08.369 --> 00:57:12.260
here in ancient times, and to what monuments
they left behind.

00:57:12.260 --> 00:57:16.440
The crumbling ruins are overgrown with vines
and the columns look like they might disintegrate

00:57:16.440 --> 00:57:17.530
at a touch.

00:57:17.530 --> 00:57:22.010
He wonders what ancient civilization might
have built this lost citadel and what strange

00:57:22.010 --> 00:57:23.609
rites they might have performed here.

00:57:23.609 --> 00:57:28.109
But he doesn’t have time to wonder about
that, because his dog is barreling ahead right

00:57:28.109 --> 00:57:32.170
through the ancient temple archway and into
the interior of the building.

00:57:32.170 --> 00:57:35.490
He wants to turn and run, everything that
he’s ever heard about these cursed woods

00:57:35.490 --> 00:57:40.109
makes him think that this is a very bad idea,
but he knows he can’t return home without

00:57:40.109 --> 00:57:41.850
those sheep.

00:57:41.850 --> 00:57:45.860
Just as he’s about to enter the temple himself,
he suddenly hears loud barking followed by

00:57:45.860 --> 00:57:47.180
whining and whimpering.

00:57:47.180 --> 00:57:50.370
He rushes inside and a terrifying sight meets
his eyes.

00:57:50.370 --> 00:57:53.950
Indeed, it seems like his family was right
when they said that these woods are full of

00:57:53.950 --> 00:57:54.950
monsters.

00:57:54.950 --> 00:57:57.180
Because his dog has cornered one right here!

00:57:57.180 --> 00:58:02.099
The creature looks like an overgrown lizard
with scaly skin and a long, whip-like tail.

00:58:02.099 --> 00:58:05.880
Immediately, the shepherd surmises that the
scrap of fabric that he found earlier didn’t

00:58:05.880 --> 00:58:10.359
come from a person’s clothes after all – it’s
obviously a piece of shed skin, no doubt from

00:58:10.359 --> 00:58:11.990
this creature.

00:58:11.990 --> 00:58:15.859
That long tail definitely looks especially
snake-like, so it’s no surprise to think

00:58:15.859 --> 00:58:19.530
that this thing might also shed skin just
like a snake would.

00:58:19.530 --> 00:58:23.220
In the gloom of the temple, he can see his
missing sheep standing in the corner, perfectly

00:58:23.220 --> 00:58:24.890
still and perfectly quiet.

00:58:24.890 --> 00:58:27.090
He’s surprised to see that they’re still
alive…

00:58:27.090 --> 00:58:30.980
what kind of predator kidnaps its prey and
then keeps it alive instead of devouring it

00:58:30.980 --> 00:58:31.980
instantly?

00:58:31.980 --> 00:58:36.849
It’s also very odd that the sheep are being
so still, but it’s probably just that they’re

00:58:36.849 --> 00:58:38.270
petrified with fear.

00:58:38.270 --> 00:58:42.390
The good news, though, is that if his sheep
are alive, that means he can rescue them.

00:58:42.390 --> 00:58:46.350
The creature spreads a large frill around
its neck as it hisses, apparently hoping to

00:58:46.350 --> 00:58:47.880
intimidate the shepherd’s dog.

00:58:47.880 --> 00:58:50.819
The dog is not frightened, though, and only
barks louder.

00:58:50.819 --> 00:58:54.490
She’s bravely guarded the shepherd’s flock
for years and she’s never been one to back

00:58:54.490 --> 00:58:59.420
down from a fight even when she’s threatened
by a bear or a wolf… so of course, she’s

00:58:59.420 --> 00:59:01.780
not going to back down from a lizard.

00:59:01.780 --> 00:59:05.619
The shepherd feels nervous being so close
to this creature simply because it’s so

00:59:05.619 --> 00:59:09.660
strange, but the truth is that it doesn’t
look like it could do that much damage.

00:59:09.660 --> 00:59:14.599
That hissing feels like bluffing, because,
realistically, what’s it going to do?

00:59:14.599 --> 00:59:15.599
Bite?

00:59:15.599 --> 00:59:18.799
The shepherd is no expert but he’s never
heard of a poisonous lizard.

00:59:18.799 --> 00:59:22.640
He steps forward to get a better look and
the creature tenses; it’s obviously nervous.

00:59:22.640 --> 00:59:24.470
It’s not even that big.

00:59:24.470 --> 00:59:27.870
His dog is way bigger than this creature and
shouldn’t have any trouble taking it in

00:59:27.870 --> 00:59:28.870
a fight.

00:59:28.870 --> 00:59:31.460
He’s seen his dog fight off rats bigger
than this lizard.

00:59:31.460 --> 00:59:36.260
The creature spreads its frill again and hisses
even more sharply, but that only makes the

00:59:36.260 --> 00:59:38.829
shepherd even more confident in his assessment.

00:59:38.829 --> 00:59:41.590
It’s trying to look bigger than it really
is, he realizes.

00:59:41.590 --> 00:59:43.250
It’s trying to intimidate him.

00:59:43.250 --> 00:59:44.859
Well, that’s not going to work!

00:59:44.859 --> 00:59:48.950
But then, to his astonishment, his dog stops.

00:59:48.950 --> 00:59:52.589
The dog and the creature stare at one another
so intently that the shepherd thinks they

00:59:52.589 --> 00:59:55.230
are actually gazing into one another’s eyes.

00:59:55.230 --> 00:59:59.530
After holding its gaze for a beat, the dog
suddenly collapses.

00:59:59.530 --> 01:00:01.349
The shepherd yelps in fear and confusion.

01:00:01.349 --> 01:00:05.810
His first instinct is to run to his dog, to
see if she’s hurt, but suddenly the creature

01:00:05.810 --> 01:00:07.339
turns its gaze on him.

01:00:07.339 --> 01:00:08.720
He stands, frozen.

01:00:08.720 --> 01:00:13.620
The creature’s eyes almost seem to cast
a spell on him and he feels mesmerized, unable

01:00:13.620 --> 01:00:15.910
to move or even to think.

01:00:15.910 --> 01:00:21.060
All his thoughts drain away and the whole
world starts to fade; nothing is real except

01:00:21.060 --> 01:00:23.910
those two malevolent red eyes.

01:00:23.910 --> 01:00:25.670
The shepherd is absolutely paralyzed.

01:00:25.670 --> 01:00:29.280
It’s not just terror, he finds that he can’t
move a muscle.

01:00:29.280 --> 01:00:34.960
He can only watch as the strange reptile approaches
his frozen dog and suddenly bites her on her

01:00:34.960 --> 01:00:35.960
exposed flank.

01:00:35.960 --> 01:00:38.700
It lashes out like a snake would when it injects
venom into a victim.

01:00:38.700 --> 01:00:42.981
The shepherd was sure that there weren’t
any poisonous lizards in this area, but now

01:00:42.981 --> 01:00:46.720
he’s not so sure when he’s watching this
scenario play out.

01:00:46.720 --> 01:00:50.790
He expects his dog might start to convulse
or spasm if she’s been poisoned, but she

01:00:50.790 --> 01:00:52.520
remains completely still.

01:00:52.520 --> 01:00:57.720
Suddenly, he sees something so shocking that
he’s certain he must be losing his mind.

01:00:57.720 --> 01:00:58.720
Could it be?

01:00:58.720 --> 01:01:02.630
The area around the bite is starting to change
color, becoming a dull gray.

01:01:02.630 --> 01:01:08.299
But as he watches, he realizes to his horror
that he’s not just watching a color change.

01:01:08.299 --> 01:01:09.990
This is something more.

01:01:09.990 --> 01:01:14.730
His dog is slowly petrifying, hardening, her
fur stiffening into stone.

01:01:14.730 --> 01:01:19.059
She is literally turning into a statue right
before his eyes.

01:01:19.059 --> 01:01:22.570
He can’t move, but his eyes flick to the
corner of the room where his sheep are still

01:01:22.570 --> 01:01:23.570
standing.

01:01:23.570 --> 01:01:24.829
Now he understands.

01:01:24.829 --> 01:01:28.970
It was hard to tell before, because of the
darkness and also because the very idea was

01:01:28.970 --> 01:01:32.510
so preposterous that it didn’t even occur
to him… but the reason that the sheep are

01:01:32.510 --> 01:01:36.390
so still and quiet is because they aren’t
sheep anymore.

01:01:36.390 --> 01:01:38.119
They’re mere statues.

01:01:38.119 --> 01:01:42.079
Somehow this creature is able to turn things
to stone with the force of its venom.

01:01:42.079 --> 01:01:47.819
He wants to scream, he wants to yell, he wants
to break free and run away… but he’s powerless

01:01:47.819 --> 01:01:48.819
to move.

01:01:48.819 --> 01:01:52.869
Fear wells up inside him as he sees the creature
turn its attention from his rapidly petrifying

01:01:52.869 --> 01:01:55.029
dog and start to move toward him.

01:01:55.029 --> 01:02:00.569
It hisses again and strikes out, sinking sharp,
needle-like teeth into his leg.

01:02:00.569 --> 01:02:04.539
The shepherd is so frozen that he can’t
scream, not even at the unbelievable pain

01:02:04.539 --> 01:02:06.849
as those teeth sink deep into his flesh.

01:02:06.849 --> 01:02:10.329
But the pain doesn’t stop when the creature
retracts its teeth.

01:02:10.329 --> 01:02:14.299
He can feel the pain spreading outward from
the site of the bite, spreading down his shins

01:02:14.299 --> 01:02:16.549
and up his legs, through his whole body.

01:02:16.549 --> 01:02:21.010
His body is hardening fast, making it hard
to breathe and impossible to move.

01:02:21.010 --> 01:02:26.059
But even as he turns into a statue, he can
still see everything around him, still sense

01:02:26.059 --> 01:02:28.320
the presence of the creature, still think.

01:02:28.320 --> 01:02:33.349
His thoughts aren’t affected at all, other
than being nearly out of his mind with terror.

01:02:33.349 --> 01:02:34.349
What could be next?

01:02:34.349 --> 01:02:36.859
The shepherd is frightened, but all he can
do is wait.

01:02:36.859 --> 01:02:41.349
He’s not sure how long he waits, because
time has no meaning here.

01:02:41.349 --> 01:02:45.420
In the gloom of this ancient temple, he’s
not sure if it’s day or night.

01:02:45.420 --> 01:02:49.290
He idly wonders if this temple was built for
this monster, by people who worshipped it

01:02:49.290 --> 01:02:54.440
for its great and terrible power, or by people
who feared it and hoped that maybe this temple

01:02:54.440 --> 01:02:56.450
would keep it contained?

01:02:56.450 --> 01:03:00.670
Or is it mere coincidence that it’s taken
up residence here, just as bats might roost

01:03:00.670 --> 01:03:02.490
in an abandoned building?

01:03:02.490 --> 01:03:04.140
He has no way of ever knowing.

01:03:04.140 --> 01:03:08.910
The only indication of the passage of time
is the coming and going of the creature, which,

01:03:08.910 --> 01:03:13.480
even if he can’t turn his head to see its
movement, he can hear it shuffling and hissing.

01:03:13.480 --> 01:03:17.690
Occasionally, he hears a sound that frightens
him even more – a sound that can only be

01:03:17.690 --> 01:03:22.789
described as statuary shattering – and he
wonders if that will ultimately be his fate.

01:03:22.789 --> 01:03:27.970
His question is answered one day when it seems
that hunger has driven the creature to dig

01:03:27.970 --> 01:03:30.180
into its larder of petrified prisoners.

01:03:30.180 --> 01:03:34.680
The creature approaches him and he can feel
it gnawing at his feet with his big ugly beak.

01:03:34.680 --> 01:03:39.470
It’s pecking at him, harder and harder,
until suddenly the shell breaks and its chewing

01:03:39.470 --> 01:03:41.760
on the flesh of his leg.

01:03:41.760 --> 01:03:46.460
Once again, the pain is unbearable but the
shepherd can do nothing but wait.

01:03:46.460 --> 01:03:49.290
At least, he thinks, it will all be over soon.

01:03:49.290 --> 01:03:54.059
Better a quick end at the jaws of a monster
than a slow death trapped frozen in stone,

01:03:54.059 --> 01:03:55.059
he thinks.

01:03:55.059 --> 01:03:58.033
It’s the very best that he can hope for.

01:03:58.033 --> 01:04:01.630
That shepherd had just run afoul of a creature
that appears to come straight out of medieval

01:04:01.630 --> 01:04:05.941
mythology, matching the description of the
deadly monster known as a cockatrice or basilisk,

01:04:05.941 --> 01:04:13.210
but the SCP foundation knows it as SCP-1013,
a nasty little piece of work with, quite literally,

01:04:13.210 --> 01:04:15.599
a paralyzing stare.

01:04:15.599 --> 01:04:20.900
SCP-1013 is a small reptile resembling a lizard,
but with several key differences that set

01:04:20.900 --> 01:04:23.119
it apart from any other animal in this order.

01:04:23.119 --> 01:04:28.109
It was recovered in Egypt, an interesting
coincidence since medieval bestiaries often

01:04:28.109 --> 01:04:31.619
regard that region as the ancestral home of
the basilisk.

01:04:31.619 --> 01:04:35.890
However, Foundation agents believe that since
no other specimens were found in the area

01:04:35.890 --> 01:04:41.320
that SCP-1013 is not a naturally occurring
animal and might have actually been bio-engineered.

01:04:41.320 --> 01:04:49.650
While SCP-1013 itself is only 60 cm long,
its abnormally long tail measures nearly 121

01:04:49.650 --> 01:04:50.650
centimeters long.

01:04:50.650 --> 01:04:52.660
It can use its tail to distract prey.

01:04:52.660 --> 01:04:57.050
It has a wide frill around its neck that it
can extend at will, similar to that of the

01:04:57.050 --> 01:04:58.780
Australian frilled lizard.

01:04:58.780 --> 01:05:02.921
Its head does not look like any other known
lizard, though, with a serrated beak and a

01:05:02.921 --> 01:05:06.960
distinctive head wattle that many researchers
feel gives it the appearance of a rooster.

01:05:06.960 --> 01:05:10.450
Its beak is filled with long, needle-like
teeth.

01:05:10.450 --> 01:05:13.120
But stranger than its appearance is its hunting
methods.

01:05:13.120 --> 01:05:19.130
When it spies potential prey, SCP-1013 will
extend its neck frill with a sudden, snapping

01:05:19.130 --> 01:05:20.130
sound.

01:05:20.130 --> 01:05:23.220
The frill appears designed to attract attention
and encourage victims to look into the eyes

01:05:23.220 --> 01:05:25.430
of SCP-1013.

01:05:25.430 --> 01:05:28.890
Because its eyes are, of course, where it
holds its real power.

01:05:28.890 --> 01:05:32.410
The mythical cockatrice was said to be able
to turn a person to stone with the power of

01:05:32.410 --> 01:05:37.720
its gaze, similar to the petrifying powers
attributed to the gorgon Medusa of Greek mythology,

01:05:37.720 --> 01:05:43.589
and SCP-1013 is very similar to its legendary
namesake in this regard, Anyone or anything

01:05:43.589 --> 01:05:49.270
making direct eye contact with SCP-1013 will
experience stabbing pain in most major muscle

01:05:49.270 --> 01:05:53.650
groups, followed by full paralysis setting
in within three seconds and lasting up until

01:05:53.650 --> 01:05:54.650
eight minutes.

01:05:54.650 --> 01:05:59.839
It is currently unknown how SCP-1013 achieves
this paralyzing effect.

01:05:59.839 --> 01:06:04.980
Once its prey is paralyzed, SCP-1013 will
bite its victim with its needle-like teeth,

01:06:04.980 --> 01:06:08.200
thus initiating a process of calcification.

01:06:08.200 --> 01:06:12.869
The victim will gradually stiffen and harden,
almost as if they are turning into a statute.

01:06:12.869 --> 01:06:16.420
The process will begin at the sight of the
bite and gradually work its way through the

01:06:16.420 --> 01:06:21.380
body so that a full-grown adult will become
completely calcified within 15 minutes.

01:06:21.380 --> 01:06:25.130
As of yet, there is no known way to stop or
reverse the process.

01:06:25.130 --> 01:06:29.470
The calcification process only affects the
outer layers of the victim, extending about

01:06:29.470 --> 01:06:34.490
three centimeters into the body, leaving all
organs and internal tissues intact.

01:06:34.490 --> 01:06:37.270
It also does not affect the eyes or mucus
membranes.

01:06:37.270 --> 01:06:43.740
This means that victims of SCP-1013 are still
alive but cannot move or react.

01:06:43.740 --> 01:06:49.520
Perhaps even more horrifying, SCP-1013 then
eats its victims alive.

01:06:49.520 --> 01:06:54.720
SCP-1013 feeds by breaking the hardened outer
layer with its beak, much like a young chick

01:06:54.720 --> 01:06:59.020
would break its way out of an egg, and then
feeding on the soft tissues preserved within.

01:06:59.020 --> 01:07:03.251
The victim will experience excruciating pain
as the creature eats them alive, but they

01:07:03.251 --> 01:07:07.220
cannot resist, they cannot even scream to
give voice to their pain.

01:07:07.220 --> 01:07:12.500
SCP-1013 has a voracious appetite, and will
consume nearly twice its body weight at each

01:07:12.500 --> 01:07:15.180
feeding.

01:07:15.180 --> 01:07:20.230
Victims usually die of blood loss before SCP-1013
can complete its meal.

01:07:20.230 --> 01:07:25.000
SCP-1013 does engage in caching behavior and
has been known to store petrified victims

01:07:25.000 --> 01:07:26.200
for later consumption.

01:07:26.200 --> 01:07:31.520
It prefers mammals as prey and will attack
livestock and game just as readily as it will

01:07:31.520 --> 01:07:32.970
attack humans.

01:07:32.970 --> 01:07:38.309
In times when mammal food sources are not
available, desperation may drive SCP-1013

01:07:38.309 --> 01:07:43.550
to turn its paralyzing powers on fish, birds,
or even insects but it will only do this if

01:07:43.550 --> 01:07:45.130
it is near to starving.

01:07:45.130 --> 01:07:51.819
SCP-1013 is hermaphroditic and unlike other
reptiles does not reproduce sexually but instead

01:07:51.819 --> 01:07:55.470
undergoes a process similar to budding or
basic cellular division.

01:07:55.470 --> 01:08:01.299
Before reproducing, SCP-1013 will increase
its feeding, gorging on food and growing rapidly

01:08:01.299 --> 01:08:02.299
in size.

01:08:02.299 --> 01:08:07.270
Eventually, it will develop cyst-like structures
in its abnormally long tail, each of which

01:08:07.270 --> 01:08:09.809
contains a juvenile SCP-1013.

01:08:09.809 --> 01:08:15.079
Juvenile SCP-1013 hatch after only 48 hours.

01:08:15.079 --> 01:08:20.460
Parent SCP-1013 will typically release hatchlings
within calcified prey, providing a ready food

01:08:20.460 --> 01:08:23.390
source for the juveniles until they can hunt
on their own.

01:08:23.390 --> 01:08:29.279
Juvenile SCP-1013 will seek out cool, dark
places, like caves or abandoned buildings,

01:08:29.279 --> 01:08:34.319
and begin rapid molting, doubling in size
every six hours until reaching full adult

01:08:34.319 --> 01:08:35.319
size.

01:08:35.319 --> 01:08:40.219
Once they have reached adulthood, SCP-1013
will set out on their own and quickly establish

01:08:40.219 --> 01:08:42.839
their own hunting territories.

01:08:42.839 --> 01:08:48.069
SCP-1013 is extremely aggressive and will
attack and attempt to calcify anyone that

01:08:48.069 --> 01:08:51.839
enters its enclosure, making it extremely
difficult to contain.

01:08:51.839 --> 01:08:56.750
For this reason, combined with its deadly
powers of calcification, SCP-1013 has been

01:08:56.750 --> 01:08:59.299
designated object-level Keter.

01:08:59.299 --> 01:09:04.130
Any staff entering the containment area are
to wear the AR-68 Armored Variant haz-mat

01:09:04.130 --> 01:09:05.130
suit.

01:09:05.130 --> 01:09:10.009
Staff exiting the area with damaged suits
are to be remanded to quarantine for one hour.

01:09:10.009 --> 01:09:14.980
Staff becoming paralyzed during cleaning/feeding/testing
cycles are to be immediately removed and remanded

01:09:14.980 --> 01:09:18.640
to medical custody until five hours after
recovery.

01:09:18.640 --> 01:09:24.460
1013 is to be fed daily with one small mammal,
however, any calcified animal remains are

01:09:24.460 --> 01:09:29.250
to be removed from the 1013 containment chamber
and incinerated for safety reasons.

01:09:29.250 --> 01:09:34.210
1013 is a frightening reminder that, while
many entities have piercing gazes, comparatively

01:09:34.210 --> 01:09:39.630
few can end your life - Few, however, does
not mean zero.

01:09:39.630 --> 01:09:43.460
These winters are getting worse every year.
That’s for sure.

01:09:43.460 --> 01:09:47.569
The Old Cattle Rancher doesn’t know if it’s
the climate changing, God’s judgment arriving,

01:09:47.569 --> 01:09:53.339
or if he’s just getting older and struggling
to keep up. Probably a strong mix of all of

01:09:53.339 --> 01:09:58.739
it. Whatever the cause, it doesn’t change
the facts. It’s deathly cold out there.

01:09:58.739 --> 01:10:03.429
His ailing, elderly Ma’s health continues
to deteriorate. He hasn’t heard from his

01:10:03.429 --> 01:10:08.610
delivery driver, Jorge, in days. And on top
of it all, his loyal dog, Marybell, is out

01:10:08.610 --> 01:10:11.330
there, barking into the darkness of the barn.

01:10:11.330 --> 01:10:15.780
The Rancher heads out to fetch her. He doesn’t
know what he’d do if she froze.

01:10:15.780 --> 01:10:20.100
He whistles, but she doesn’t look back at
him. She just carries on barking up that road

01:10:20.100 --> 01:10:24.990
into the snowy night. The Rancher wades through
the snow and peers in the direction she’s

01:10:24.990 --> 01:10:25.990
looking.

01:10:25.990 --> 01:10:28.429
“There’s nothing there girl, get inside.”

01:10:28.429 --> 01:10:31.380
But Marybell keeps barking. She’s insisting.

01:10:31.380 --> 01:10:33.930
He looks again. Is that…?

01:10:33.930 --> 01:10:37.900
The Rancher takes off running up the road.
All thoughts of cold immediately gone from

01:10:37.900 --> 01:10:42.679
his mind, he races towards the figure as fast
as he can. His frozen fingers fumble at the

01:10:42.679 --> 01:10:47.970
zipper on his parka. Icy wind stabs the insides
of his lungs. Marybell shoots off ahead of

01:10:47.970 --> 01:10:48.970
him.

01:10:48.970 --> 01:10:52.920
There, he pulls the zipper down and wrestles
the thick coat off of his shoulders just as

01:10:52.920 --> 01:10:56.890
he reaches the tiny figure. He drops to his
knees and throws the coat over the shoulders

01:10:56.890 --> 01:11:01.860
of the little girl standing alone in the snow.
Quick as he can, he wraps it tightly around

01:11:01.860 --> 01:11:06.410
her, pulling the hood up and over her head.
He takes her tiny shoulders in his hands and

01:11:06.410 --> 01:11:08.790
gives her a shake.

01:11:08.790 --> 01:11:10.790
“Are you okay? Hello? Can you hear me?”

01:11:10.790 --> 01:11:16.610
The girl sways for a moment, then collapses.
He catches her and, in one deft motion, scoops

01:11:16.610 --> 01:11:20.300
her into his arms and takes off back down
the road in the direction of his farm. Where

01:11:20.300 --> 01:11:25.590
the hell had she come from? There are no buildings
around here for miles. No one uses that road

01:11:25.590 --> 01:11:29.850
except Jorge. And in this weather, she couldn’t
have walked all the way over those mountains,

01:11:29.850 --> 01:11:31.870
she’d have frozen solid.

01:11:31.870 --> 01:11:36.170
He bites the finger of a glove and pulls it
off. With his bare hand, he clasps one of

01:11:36.170 --> 01:11:41.139
hers. By the feel of her skin, she pretty
much is frozen solid already. He needs to

01:11:41.139 --> 01:11:42.850
get her warmed up. Now.

01:11:42.850 --> 01:11:47.199
He kicks open the front door and bundles inside
with a flurry of snowflakes and an anxious

01:11:47.199 --> 01:11:51.929
dog at his heels. The fire’s not quite dead
yet, so he rushes over to the hearth and lays

01:11:51.929 --> 01:11:56.250
the little girl down next to it. He can barely
see her at all wrapped up in his enormous

01:11:56.250 --> 01:11:58.400
coat. She doesn’t seem to be moving.

01:11:58.400 --> 01:12:02.469
“Ma! I’m home! I… I found someone.”

01:12:02.469 --> 01:12:07.230
The Rancher grabs two dry logs from the side
and throws them onto the fire. He piles kindling

01:12:07.230 --> 01:12:11.790
high on top of them and blows steadily into
the embers at the bottom. They glow and swell

01:12:11.790 --> 01:12:18.060
in size. No taking yet. He blows again for
longer. And again. He feels his head starting

01:12:18.060 --> 01:12:22.699
to swim. A crackle. A lick of flame. It’s
taken!

01:12:22.699 --> 01:12:27.400
Panting, he turns back to the bundled-up coat
on the floor with the child inside. Still

01:12:27.400 --> 01:12:31.030
no movement. A sickening knot tightens his
stomach. What if she’s…?

01:12:31.030 --> 01:12:34.390
No. Don’t let yourself think that. Not yet.

01:12:34.390 --> 01:12:39.190
He reaches down and gently undoes the zipper
on the parka. His trembling fingers push back

01:12:39.190 --> 01:12:40.190
the hood.

01:12:40.190 --> 01:12:46.460
She’s pale. Deathly pale. Her dark brown
hair is wet and clings to her scalp. The tips

01:12:46.460 --> 01:12:52.850
are frozen. At a guess, she must only be 9
years old. Eyes closed, lips a sickening blue.

01:12:52.850 --> 01:12:58.420
But that’s not the color that scares him
the most. On her neck, there’s red.

01:12:58.420 --> 01:13:02.260
Delicately as he can, the Rancher takes the
coat off her shoulders and hangs it up by

01:13:02.260 --> 01:13:07.000
the fire. She’s dressed only in a plaid
shirt, way too big for her. It looks like

01:13:07.000 --> 01:13:12.070
an adult’s shirt, similar to an old one
he used to have years ago. But on her neck,

01:13:12.070 --> 01:13:18.010
her hands, her feet, is that same deep red.
Layers of blood, frozen to her skin.

01:13:18.010 --> 01:13:23.170
He sits back, his mind blank. He’s seen
that much blood before. Sure he has. When

01:13:23.170 --> 01:13:27.570
you work with cattle, it’s an unfortunate
part of the job. He’s seen cows bleed out

01:13:27.570 --> 01:13:32.980
during childbirth. The girl in front of him?
She’s the same color as those orphaned calves

01:13:32.980 --> 01:13:34.770
that lie crying on the floor.

01:13:34.770 --> 01:13:39.360
A groaning sound fills the room. The Rancher
looks across at the armchair where his Ma

01:13:39.360 --> 01:13:43.750
sits. She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t
look at the girl on the floor. She just stares

01:13:43.750 --> 01:13:47.280
into the fire, same way she always does.

01:13:47.280 --> 01:13:51.570
Ma groans again. Trying to express something
she doesn’t understand. Being in a world

01:13:51.570 --> 01:13:52.570
without living in it.

01:13:52.570 --> 01:13:59.540
“Ma, it’s okay. Sorry if I startled you.
We have a um… we have a guest with us.”

01:13:59.540 --> 01:14:03.730
But she just keeps on groaning and staring
into the fire. The Rancher buries his head

01:14:03.730 --> 01:14:09.440
in his hands and lets out a deep breath. Only,
the sound of his breath is joined by another.

01:14:09.440 --> 01:14:14.550
A tiny breath, rattling and rasping through
a damaged child’s throat. Trying its best

01:14:14.550 --> 01:14:16.350
to keep its host alive.

01:14:16.350 --> 01:14:20.860
The Rancher opens his eyes and stares at the
child. She isn’t conscious, not by a long

01:14:20.860 --> 01:14:25.190
shot, but she’s breathing. A little at a
time. The icicles in her hair have turned

01:14:25.190 --> 01:14:28.520
into rounded droplets of water that glow by
the heat of the fire.

01:14:28.520 --> 01:14:33.060
He snaps back to his senses. He’s not doing
her much if she’s just lying there soaking

01:14:33.060 --> 01:14:38.650
wet. He runs off upstairs and grabs some towels
and a fresh flannel shirt to wear. After several

01:14:38.650 --> 01:14:42.950
minutes of drying her off, he’s confident
enough that he’s got most of the water off.

01:14:42.950 --> 01:14:46.840
There’s still a lot of blood caked to her
skin, but as far as he can tell, there’s

01:14:46.840 --> 01:14:49.330
no wound anywhere that it could have come
from.

01:14:49.330 --> 01:14:54.179
Brow furrowed, he leaves her under a bundle
of blankets and fills up the kettle with water.

01:14:54.179 --> 01:14:57.980
Hanging it carefully over the fire, he walks
over to the cabinet and fishes out a tin of

01:14:57.980 --> 01:15:02.910
coco from the top shelf. Hasn’t been used
in years but should still be fine. He would

01:15:02.910 --> 01:15:07.770
make it with milk, but she’s probably dehydrated.
Lifting the kettle’s lid with the poker,

01:15:07.770 --> 01:15:11.679
the Rancher pours the brown powder inside
and waits for it to boil.

01:15:11.679 --> 01:15:16.130
The little girl’s eyes are open now. She’s
staring into the flames. Her lips are looking

01:15:16.130 --> 01:15:18.659
a little more pink, her skin a little more
blotchy.

01:15:18.659 --> 01:15:24.570
“You’re safe here. Just stay by the fire
and warm up a bit. You like cocoa?”

01:15:24.570 --> 01:15:28.949
The little girl drags her eyes away from the
flames. Her expression is mostly blank. She

01:15:28.949 --> 01:15:30.489
looks too tired to be confused.

01:15:30.489 --> 01:15:31.770
“I don’t know.”

01:15:31.770 --> 01:15:35.030
“I think you will. Ma always gave me cocoa.”

01:15:35.030 --> 01:15:36.940
“Okay.”

01:15:36.940 --> 01:15:42.219
And with that, the farmhouse falls silent.
The little girl stares into the fire. The

01:15:42.219 --> 01:15:46.790
Rancher watches her, finally feeling the wave
of exhaustion crashing over him. His Ma has

01:15:46.790 --> 01:15:51.500
fallen asleep in her armchair. Only Marybel
stays awake through the whole night, staying

01:15:51.500 --> 01:15:57.360
close to the little girl by the fire. Occasionally
licking her toes to try and warm them up.

01:15:57.360 --> 01:15:58.360
**

01:15:58.360 --> 01:16:01.860
By the morning, the snow’s stopped, but
the huge drifts remain. As the Rancher walks

01:16:01.860 --> 01:16:06.250
across to the barn, he finds it hard to believe
that just a few hours ago, the winds were

01:16:06.250 --> 01:16:11.300
whipping at his face as hard as they were.
The world this morning is totally still.

01:16:11.300 --> 01:16:15.010
What the Rancher finds even harder to believe
is that there’s a little girl in his house

01:16:15.010 --> 01:16:19.590
right now, fast asleep by the fire. He checked
her forehead when he woke up this morning,

01:16:19.590 --> 01:16:23.340
and she miraculously hasn’t caught a fever.
She can’t have been out in that weather

01:16:23.340 --> 01:16:29.050
for too long, but it only makes the question
more mysterious. Where did she come from?

01:16:29.050 --> 01:16:32.100
Marybell didn’t get up this morning. From
all of the excitement last night, she must

01:16:32.100 --> 01:16:37.090
have been too tired for today. Walking through
the crisp morning air, he can’t really blame

01:16:37.090 --> 01:16:42.011
her. He shoulders the barn door open. A column
of steam curls out of the opening. All of

01:16:42.011 --> 01:16:46.670
that warmth, humidity, and cattle smell is
strangely comforting this morning.

01:16:46.670 --> 01:16:50.820
But as the Rancher goes around checking on
all the cows inside, he very quickly discovers

01:16:50.820 --> 01:16:56.969
a problem. They’re thin, way too thin. Some
of them look to be on the verge of starvation.

01:16:56.969 --> 01:17:01.190
He’d missed it last night as he drove them
down in the dark but in the warm glow of the

01:17:01.190 --> 01:17:06.420
barn’s lights it’s unmistakable. These
cows haven’t been eating properly.

01:17:06.420 --> 01:17:10.960
He pours out several sacks of grain for them
into the troughs, and they all gather round

01:17:10.960 --> 01:17:15.170
hungrily, filling both their stomachs as fast
as they can. The Rancher leans on the railing

01:17:15.170 --> 01:17:19.920
for a moment confused. Even in this cold,
there was still plenty of green grass for

01:17:19.920 --> 01:17:23.440
them up on the ridge. That’s why he’d
taken them up there. They should have had

01:17:23.440 --> 01:17:25.760
no trouble eating until the snow came in last
night.

01:17:25.760 --> 01:17:30.160
He doesn’t like this one bit. Last time
Jorge had driven down and collected some of

01:17:30.160 --> 01:17:34.170
the meat, he’d had a few questions about
the quantity being smaller than usual. Were

01:17:34.170 --> 01:17:39.100
the cows sick at all? Not that the Rancher
could tell. But now looking at them it’s

01:17:39.100 --> 01:17:41.640
clear as day. Something’s up.

01:17:41.640 --> 01:17:42.640
**

01:17:42.640 --> 01:17:43.640
“You hungry?”

01:17:43.640 --> 01:17:46.920
The little girl nods. They sit across the
table from one another eating homemade bread

01:17:46.920 --> 01:17:51.679
and soup. Ma stays over by the fire. Marybel
slowly wanders over to the kitchenette and

01:17:51.679 --> 01:17:53.469
flops down on the floor, exhausted.

01:17:53.469 --> 01:17:54.909
“Where you from?”

01:17:54.909 --> 01:17:56.480
The girl shrugs her shoulders.

01:17:56.480 --> 01:18:00.450
“You know how you got out here? Remember
anything from last night?”

01:18:00.450 --> 01:18:04.620
The little girl just eats her soup and shakes
her head. She doesn’t look particularly

01:18:04.620 --> 01:18:07.570
scared or worried. Just a little confused.

01:18:07.570 --> 01:18:11.110
“Where are your parents? Do you have parents?”

01:18:11.110 --> 01:18:16.360
Again the little girl shrugs. The Rancher
sits back and folds his arms. He’s tried

01:18:16.360 --> 01:18:20.639
to call into town, but his phoneline’s gone
out in the blizzard. Not much to be done until

01:18:20.639 --> 01:18:24.909
this snow clears. He’s got a good relationship
with the police around here, if he explains

01:18:24.909 --> 01:18:27.260
the situation, then it will all be okay.

01:18:27.260 --> 01:18:30.620
“What do you know? Can you remember anything
from last night?”

01:18:30.620 --> 01:18:37.090
“It was dark,” the girl slurps her soup.
“I was hungry, so hungry. Then I saw the

01:18:37.090 --> 01:18:38.520
light and I went towards that.”

01:18:38.520 --> 01:18:39.960
“My car.”

01:18:39.960 --> 01:18:43.520
“No. Well, yes. Later on, it was your car.
But before, it wasn’t.”

01:18:43.520 --> 01:18:45.880
“What was the light then? And where were
you?”

01:18:45.880 --> 01:18:50.489
“I don’t know. It was just… the light.”

01:18:50.489 --> 01:18:55.400
Now he’s even more confused. But, try as
he might, the Rancher can’t figure any of

01:18:55.400 --> 01:19:00.030
it out and, try as she might, the little girl
can’t remember anything more precise than

01:19:00.030 --> 01:19:01.030
that.

01:19:01.030 --> 01:19:02.030
**

01:19:02.030 --> 01:19:04.970
The pair of them hop into the car and drive
back out up the road that afternoon. The snow

01:19:04.970 --> 01:19:08.800
is piled so high that the Rancher is having
to get out twice as often as he did the previous

01:19:08.800 --> 01:19:10.910
night to clear a track for them.

01:19:10.910 --> 01:19:15.080
He isn’t actually sure what he’s brought
her out here looking for. Clues maybe? He

01:19:15.080 --> 01:19:19.409
almost laughs at himself at the thought, but
that’s probably the best word for it. If

01:19:19.409 --> 01:19:23.390
he can figure out how she got here, then he
can work on understanding who she is and how

01:19:23.390 --> 01:19:24.600
to get her home.

01:19:24.600 --> 01:19:29.280
There’s the damage to the phone line. One
of the masts has collapsed, sagging heavily

01:19:29.280 --> 01:19:34.210
on the lines. That’s not something he can
fix on his own. No sir. Looks like he’ll

01:19:34.210 --> 01:19:38.270
have to wait for the snow to melt before making
any phone calls again. That could be in one

01:19:38.270 --> 01:19:43.590
week, that could be in three months. He glances
at the child sitting in the passenger seat.

01:19:43.590 --> 01:19:47.730
She’s just staring out of the window in
amazement, wrapped up in as many layers as

01:19:47.730 --> 01:19:52.159
he could put on her. They may be stuck together
for a while.

01:19:52.159 --> 01:19:56.050
A lurch! The pickup plunges dangerously to
the left. The Rancher slams on the breaks,

01:19:56.050 --> 01:20:00.340
and it comes to a stop just in time. A large
chunk of snow in front of them comes loose

01:20:00.340 --> 01:20:06.810
and slips off the side of the road. It tumbles
down into a gully that he hadn’t even spotted.

01:20:06.810 --> 01:20:11.040
With all this snow on the ground, he has no
frame of reference. Everything is just white.

01:20:11.040 --> 01:20:12.820
“Stay here.”

01:20:12.820 --> 01:20:16.810
The Rancher opens the door and climbs out.
He wishes Marybel was with him, but she’d

01:20:16.810 --> 01:20:20.900
wanted to stay home again. Poor dog, she must
really be going through it if she wasn’t

01:20:20.900 --> 01:20:23.530
even up for a ride in the pickup.

01:20:23.530 --> 01:20:27.320
Carefully as he can, testing every step before
making it, the Rancher creeps over to the

01:20:27.320 --> 01:20:32.900
edge of the gully. It’s bigger than he thought,
much bigger. It continues down, more and more

01:20:32.900 --> 01:20:36.040
sharply, for a few hundred feet. All the way
down into a…

01:20:36.040 --> 01:20:37.170
“Ah, no.”

01:20:37.170 --> 01:20:43.130
There’s a semi down there. A big rig, warped
and bent, lying on the rocks. Just a glance

01:20:43.130 --> 01:20:47.760
is enough to tell the Rancher it’s Jorge’s,
but he just keeps staring at it in disbelief.

01:20:47.760 --> 01:20:50.380
It can’t be. It…

01:20:50.380 --> 01:20:51.380
But it is.

01:20:51.380 --> 01:20:52.860
“Stay in the car.”

01:20:52.860 --> 01:20:56.900
The Rancher reaches past the little girl and
into the backseat. Grabbing a pair of crampons

01:20:56.900 --> 01:21:01.300
and some rope, he straightens up and looks
at the girl. She knows it’s serious, he

01:21:01.300 --> 01:21:03.150
can see the concern on her face.

01:21:03.150 --> 01:21:06.360
“Stay in the car,” he repeats.

01:21:06.360 --> 01:21:10.790
By the time the Rancher makes it down to the
truck, his legs and back are killing him.

01:21:10.790 --> 01:21:14.800
All this work over the last 24 hours is going
to start taking its toll sooner or later,

01:21:14.800 --> 01:21:19.590
but some things have to be done. He pauses
by the semi. It’s on its side, he’ll have

01:21:19.590 --> 01:21:22.630
to climb up onto it and try to open the door.

01:21:22.630 --> 01:21:23.989
Some things have to be done.

01:21:23.989 --> 01:21:29.060
He hoists himself up and manages to clamber
onto the metal door. It’s badly crumpled,

01:21:29.060 --> 01:21:33.030
and the window is smashed in. He doesn’t
fancy his chances of being able to get it

01:21:33.030 --> 01:21:38.310
open. One look through the window shows him
that he won’t want to do that anyway.

01:21:38.310 --> 01:21:42.840
Blood coats every inch of the inside of Jorge’s
truck. The cabin that the Rancher is so used

01:21:42.840 --> 01:21:49.040
to seeing and sitting in is almost unrecognizable.
Smashed glass is sprinkled across every surface,

01:21:49.040 --> 01:21:52.929
with a dark brownish red layer of gore frozen
into everything else.

01:21:52.929 --> 01:21:58.570
There, in the midst of it all, still wearing
a seatbelt, is Jorge’s body. It dangles

01:21:58.570 --> 01:22:03.190
like a limp carcass at a butcher shop. Like
the cows he hangs in the slaughterhouse. And

01:22:03.190 --> 01:22:09.280
like those cows, a large chunk of Jorge is
missing. His fat stomach is gone, not just

01:22:09.280 --> 01:22:15.050
cut open but gone. The tops of his thighs
too and much of his chest. So much of him

01:22:15.050 --> 01:22:19.650
is just missing, open arteries and lifeless
nerves dangle in place. That must have been

01:22:19.650 --> 01:22:22.030
a hell of a crash.

01:22:22.030 --> 01:22:26.480
The Rancher reaches over and pulls Jorge’s
cap down over his eyes. Not much else to be

01:22:26.480 --> 01:22:30.550
done right now. Ain’t no way he can clean
this mess up by himself.

01:22:30.550 --> 01:22:34.780
But as the Rancher climbs up the valley, his
mind starts to connect some dots. Dots that

01:22:34.780 --> 01:22:39.760
leave a sick feeling in his stomach. He’s
seen that much blood somewhere else, or rather

01:22:39.760 --> 01:22:42.110
on someone else, just last night.

01:22:42.110 --> 01:22:47.340
He slams the door to the pickup shut and starts
to drive back down the track. Since the snow’s

01:22:47.340 --> 01:22:51.260
stopped, all of the drifts that he’d cleared
earlier remain clear. It’s only a few minutes

01:22:51.260 --> 01:22:55.590
drive back down to the farm. He doesn’t
say a word the whole way, and neither does

01:22:55.590 --> 01:22:58.850
the little girl. She clearly senses something’s
up.

01:22:58.850 --> 01:23:03.150
The sick feeling in his stomach remains. He
pulls up the handbrake and the two of them

01:23:03.150 --> 01:23:04.940
sit in silence outside the farmhouse.

01:23:04.940 --> 01:23:08.790
“There was a truck in that valley. Did you
know that?”

01:23:08.790 --> 01:23:09.790
“Yes.”

01:23:09.790 --> 01:23:11.620
“Is that where you came from last night?”

01:23:11.620 --> 01:23:13.360
“I don’t remember.”

01:23:13.360 --> 01:23:18.820
“Was he…” the Rancher stops. “Jorge
didn’t have any kids. What were you doing

01:23:18.820 --> 01:23:20.130
in his truck?”

01:23:20.130 --> 01:23:21.449
“I don’t know.”

01:23:21.449 --> 01:23:23.460
“Did he… was he…”

01:23:23.460 --> 01:23:27.340
The Rancher can’t bring himself to accuse
his best friend of the words that almost left

01:23:27.340 --> 01:23:28.340
his mouth.

01:23:28.340 --> 01:23:32.239
“Do you think you might now remember because
something bad happened to you?”

01:23:32.239 --> 01:23:33.940
“I don’t know.”

01:23:33.940 --> 01:23:38.110
The Rancher closes his eyes for a long moment.
Silence fills the pickup.

01:23:38.110 --> 01:23:40.679
“Come on. Let’s get inside.”

01:23:40.679 --> 01:23:45.400
But inside wasn’t the safe haven he’d
been hoping for. Ma’s been throwing up.

01:23:45.400 --> 01:23:49.739
Not just once but a few times. She’s distressed,
groaning aimlessly for someone to come and

01:23:49.739 --> 01:23:55.239
save her. Marybel is pacing around the room
yelping and whining. The Rancher immediately

01:23:55.239 --> 01:23:58.350
goes upstairs to get some rags to clean up
with.

01:23:58.350 --> 01:24:00.570
Perfect timing. As usual.

01:24:00.570 --> 01:24:04.790
But he stops in his tracks when he comes back
down. His Ma’s stopped moaning. The little

01:24:04.790 --> 01:24:09.880
girl is kneeling by the armchair, holding
the old lady’s hand. The room is calm. The

01:24:09.880 --> 01:24:13.730
little girl gently places the frail hand back
on the armrest and comes over to take the

01:24:13.730 --> 01:24:18.520
rags from the Rancher. Returning to the old
lady, the girl goes about mopping her up as

01:24:18.520 --> 01:24:20.139
best she can.

01:24:20.139 --> 01:24:22.719
Marybel slumps back down on the floor.

01:24:22.719 --> 01:24:23.719
**

01:24:23.719 --> 01:24:27.250
And that is how the four of them exist for
the next few days. Ma gets sicker steadily,

01:24:27.250 --> 01:24:31.860
but the little girl stays by her side all
day long, caring for her in every way. The

01:24:31.860 --> 01:24:36.081
Rancher’s glad of that. It gives him the
time he needs to help his cows outside. None

01:24:36.081 --> 01:24:38.260
of them are in a good shape.

01:24:38.260 --> 01:24:42.670
Whatever it is, they’re still getting thinner.
He feeds them all the grain they’d normally

01:24:42.670 --> 01:24:48.500
need, and then some, and they always finish
it off. Yet none of them are getting any fatter.

01:24:48.500 --> 01:24:52.540
The Rancher leans on the railing, trusty dog
by his side. His energy is starting to really

01:24:52.540 --> 01:24:56.510
lag behind what he needs. The last couple
of days, even though he hasn’t done all

01:24:56.510 --> 01:24:58.550
that much, have totally taken it out of him.

01:24:58.550 --> 01:25:01.179
“What do you think it is, Marybel?”

01:25:01.179 --> 01:25:05.440
He looks down at his little friend. She’s
looking thinner, too, actually. But she’s

01:25:05.440 --> 01:25:06.949
been eating just fine…

01:25:06.949 --> 01:25:09.360
It hits him.

01:25:09.360 --> 01:25:14.190
Tapeworms. As soon as the word comes into
his head, it makes total sense. His cows,

01:25:14.190 --> 01:25:17.850
his entire herd by the looks of things, have
been riddled with tapeworms.

01:25:17.850 --> 01:25:18.900
“Ah hell.”

01:25:18.900 --> 01:25:23.310
He hasn’t got anywhere near the amount of
medicine needed to give some to all of them.

01:25:23.310 --> 01:25:27.310
Even if he did, a lot of them are looking
pretty far gone. The chance of reinfection

01:25:27.310 --> 01:25:31.230
would be high. He needs supplies. He needs
Jorge.

01:25:31.230 --> 01:25:36.120
Marybel whines softly next to him. He knows
what they have to do.

01:25:36.120 --> 01:25:37.120
**

01:25:37.120 --> 01:25:40.630
Laying Marybel down carefully by the fire,
the Rancher administers the tapeworm medicine.

01:25:40.630 --> 01:25:44.780
For a few hours, they lie there together.
He strokes her side waiting for her to pass

01:25:44.780 --> 01:25:49.380
it. The little girl watches over his shoulder.
His Ma sits back in her chair, mumbling to

01:25:49.380 --> 01:25:50.670
herself.

01:25:50.670 --> 01:25:54.440
He hasn’t talked to the little girl anymore
about Jorge yet. He isn’t sure what there

01:25:54.440 --> 01:25:59.400
is to say. Maybe he should ask if Jorge was
sick. After all, the cows clearly have had

01:25:59.400 --> 01:26:03.440
these tapeworms since before the other night.
Jorge may have picked up contaminated meat

01:26:03.440 --> 01:26:06.610
from him last time he came. Maybe…

01:26:06.610 --> 01:26:10.960
Marybel passes the worm on the rug. The smell…!

01:26:10.960 --> 01:26:16.360
The Rancher uses the tongs next to the fire
to pick the worm up. It’s long and pale.

01:26:16.360 --> 01:26:21.449
And dead. He tosses it into the fire and puts
the tongs in the flames for a bit to sterilize

01:26:21.449 --> 01:26:27.330
them. The worm sizzles and pops in the flames.
The sound makes his stomach crawl.

01:26:27.330 --> 01:26:31.780
The Rancher glances around and sees the little
girl staring at the tapeworm. He looks past

01:26:31.780 --> 01:26:35.920
the girl to his Ma sitting in the chair. Her
turn next.

01:26:35.920 --> 01:26:36.920
**

01:26:36.920 --> 01:26:40.610
But as that night and the following morning
reveal, it’s too late. His Ma’s groans

01:26:40.610 --> 01:26:45.901
turn into cries of pain. She openly sobs by
the fire, clutching at her stomach. Every

01:26:45.901 --> 01:26:50.810
time the Rancher tries to give her the medicine,
she just vomits it back up. Each time she

01:26:50.810 --> 01:26:52.650
vomits, there’s more and more blood mixed
in.

01:26:52.650 --> 01:26:58.110
The little girl gets more and more upset.
It’s not fair on her to have to witness

01:26:58.110 --> 01:27:02.400
something this traumatic and disgusting, but
there’s nowhere else for her to go. She

01:27:02.400 --> 01:27:05.730
shouldn’t even be here at all. The fact
that she is means she has to help. That’s

01:27:05.730 --> 01:27:07.110
all there is to it.

01:27:07.110 --> 01:27:13.340
By sunrise, his Ma has passed away. There
is nasty red bruising all across her abdomen,

01:27:13.340 --> 01:27:17.710
which tells him she must have bled out internally
from this worm. He’d been too late to realize

01:27:17.710 --> 01:27:22.610
what was wrong. Too late with the cows and
too late with his Ma. He covers his Ma with

01:27:22.610 --> 01:27:26.760
a blanket and tells the little girl not to
go and wash her hands. He needs to check on

01:27:26.760 --> 01:27:28.190
the cattle.

01:27:28.190 --> 01:27:33.340
Sure enough, during the night, a handful of
them died too. The calves. They were the ones

01:27:33.340 --> 01:27:37.860
to go first whenever something like this happened.
Mother cows stood over their calves, licking

01:27:37.860 --> 01:27:40.420
their heads. Willing them to wake up.

01:27:40.420 --> 01:27:45.960
The Rancher drags each body out to the back
and burns them. He can’t risk any more contamination.

01:27:45.960 --> 01:27:50.090
As the carcasses burn, he allows himself to
cry.

01:27:50.090 --> 01:27:51.090
**

01:27:51.090 --> 01:27:54.100
But when the Rancher comes back into the house,
it’s full of noise. A noise that takes his

01:27:54.100 --> 01:28:00.210
brain a long time to comprehend. Crying. But
his own. Not the little girl either. No, it

01:28:00.210 --> 01:28:06.320
was a new sound: it was a baby. A newborn
child screaming at the top of its lungs.

01:28:06.320 --> 01:28:09.820
The Rancher can’t believe what he’s looking
at. The little girl is sitting by the hearth

01:28:09.820 --> 01:28:15.920
with Marybel at her feet. In her arms, drenched
in blood, is a baby. The girl looks up at

01:28:15.920 --> 01:28:17.699
him and smiles sweetly.

01:28:17.699 --> 01:28:19.730
“It’s a boy.”

01:28:19.730 --> 01:28:24.600
Then she turns around to his Ma's body under
the blanket. A sickening red patch soaks through

01:28:24.600 --> 01:28:27.500
the fabric, right over where her stomach would
be.

01:28:27.500 --> 01:28:29.360
“What the hell happened here?”

01:28:29.360 --> 01:28:32.199
“I’ve got a little brother.”

01:28:32.199 --> 01:28:38.610
Securing and containing SCP-1003 has proven…
challenging. This is largely because the tapeworm

01:28:38.610 --> 01:28:43.730
that causes all of this damage is virtually
indistinguishable from echinococcus granulosus,

01:28:43.730 --> 01:28:49.310
the common variety of tapeworm that causes
hydatid disease.

01:28:49.310 --> 01:28:54.410
The tapeworm, designated SPC-1003-1, follows
the same lifecycle as other regular worms.

01:28:54.410 --> 01:28:58.520
Its eggs come into contact with an animal
through contaminated meat, saliva, or unclean

01:28:58.520 --> 01:29:03.690
surfaces and are ingested. Once inside the
gut they grow and latch onto the inside of

01:29:03.690 --> 01:29:07.810
the digestive tract where they feed on the
nutrients of the food traveling past them,

01:29:07.810 --> 01:29:13.310
steadily growing bigger and stronger. Once
mature, they lay eggs which pass out in the

01:29:13.310 --> 01:29:16.630
animal’s excrement to continue the process.

01:29:16.630 --> 01:29:20.969
Infections spread quickly, particularly in
unsanitary conditions amongst livestock, and

01:29:20.969 --> 01:29:25.840
can often be difficult to contain as, by the
time the symptoms - nausea, weight loss, fever

01:29:25.840 --> 01:29:30.679
- start to manifest in the infected, the worms
have likely already reproduced and have a

01:29:30.679 --> 01:29:33.550
new generation growing in the guts of other
animals.

01:29:33.550 --> 01:29:39.130
As far as the foundation is aware, SCP-1003
follows this normal pattern in all observed

01:29:39.130 --> 01:29:43.590
animals, except humans. When a human ingests
an egg from this tapeworm, a very different

01:29:43.590 --> 01:29:48.800
creature starts to grow in their gut. Human
embryos, with the same genetic code as the

01:29:48.800 --> 01:29:53.910
tapeworm, begin to form. The rate of their
growth is greatly accelerated, however. By

01:29:53.910 --> 01:29:59.199
just 8 weeks, they are as mature as the typical
3-week-old neonate - or newborn child - although

01:29:59.199 --> 01:30:04.110
similar in size to an 8-week-old embryo at
13-16cm.

01:30:04.110 --> 01:30:08.219
Many eggs usually enter this ‘fertilization’
period, but almost all of them die before

01:30:08.219 --> 01:30:12.320
having a chance to develop much beyond the
early stages. They stand the best chance of

01:30:12.320 --> 01:30:16.150
survival when buried in the hepatic tissue,
where they can absorb plenty of nutrients

01:30:16.150 --> 01:30:21.930
from their host. The host at this point usually
starts to experience mild symptoms. Lethargy,

01:30:21.930 --> 01:30:25.750
the occasional stomach cramp, nothing particularly
severe… yet.

01:30:25.750 --> 01:30:31.800
The embryos that survive soon develop rows
of temporary razor sharp. At this point, passively

01:30:31.800 --> 01:30:36.870
absorbing nutrients is no longer enough for
them. They bury their teeth into the soft

01:30:36.870 --> 01:30:41.199
tissue surrounding them and begin to eat.
Once they enter this stage, their rate of

01:30:41.199 --> 01:30:45.550
growth increases exponentially, the more flesh
they consume.

01:30:45.550 --> 01:30:50.830
Eventually burrowing out into the world, the
Tapeworm Child is born drenched in blood.

01:30:50.830 --> 01:30:54.659
The size and apparent age of the child that
emerges from the corpse are determined by

01:30:54.659 --> 01:30:59.290
the size of the person they consume. For example
the child eating its way out of the Rancher’s

01:30:59.290 --> 01:31:04.070
Ma appeared to be only a 10-month-old child
as there was very little of the frail old

01:31:04.070 --> 01:31:08.989
woman for it to eat. By contrast the little
girl who emerged from Jorge’s gut had plenty

01:31:08.989 --> 01:31:13.260
of fat to feast on and so was able to grow
to the size of a 9-year-old.

01:31:13.260 --> 01:31:17.730
Once the child emerges, the teeth that they’d
used to eat their way out quickly come loose

01:31:17.730 --> 01:31:22.179
and are replaced by regular human teeth. The
children themselves have no memory at all

01:31:22.179 --> 01:31:26.110
of where they’ve come from or what they
are. They have the same motor and linguistic

01:31:26.110 --> 01:31:31.100
skills that a regular child would possess
at their age. Nothing, aside from their DNA,

01:31:31.100 --> 01:31:35.460
marks them out as being any different from
the children around them. Blissfully ignorant,

01:31:35.460 --> 01:31:36.880
just like the children around them.

01:31:36.880 --> 01:31:41.440
It is theorized that many of these children
end up in orphanages. With no birth certificates

01:31:41.440 --> 01:31:45.910
or identifiable parents, they fall through
the gaps in the system, quickly lost to the

01:31:45.910 --> 01:31:51.060
world. The only way to really track them at
all is to follow the infections they cause.

01:31:51.060 --> 01:31:55.570
You see, these Tapeworm Children have one
final curse they must live with. Their bodily

01:31:55.570 --> 01:32:00.300
fluids, their saliva, and sweat, contain the
same tapeworm protoscolex that will develop

01:32:00.300 --> 01:32:06.520
into SCP-1003-1 as soon as it is ingested
by another creature. Making the cycle start

01:32:06.520 --> 01:32:11.869
all over again. If you want to track down
a Tapeworm Child, and I highly advise that

01:32:11.869 --> 01:32:16.670
you don’t, all you have to do is follow
the trail of nasty stomach infections, internal

01:32:16.670 --> 01:32:21.920
bleeding, and freak pregnancies amongst the
outcasts of society. It, unfortunately, will

01:32:21.920 --> 01:32:22.920
not take long.

01:32:22.920 --> 01:32:29.170
There are currently ten instances of SCP-1003-2
in containment. The children live in Bio-Research

01:32:29.170 --> 01:32:34.260
Area 13 under strict supervision. Researchers
are only permitted to enter their cells whilst

01:32:34.260 --> 01:32:39.150
wearing full-body biohazard suits, but first
must have Level 4 security clearance, and

01:32:39.150 --> 01:32:43.750
must have written permission, and can only
enter with specific research goals agreed.

01:32:43.750 --> 01:32:47.840
All staff are regularly tested for the presence
of any kind of tapeworms in their system.

01:32:47.840 --> 01:32:50.659
No other animals are permitted in this facility.

01:32:50.659 --> 01:32:56.389
The Store Manager had heard of crazy customers,
but this was something else. A mob comes barrelling

01:32:56.389 --> 01:33:01.170
towards the store, visible through the display
windows as they charge down the street. They

01:33:01.170 --> 01:33:06.659
all look crazed, much closer in appearance
to rabid animals than human beings, frenzying,

01:33:06.659 --> 01:33:11.239
foaming at the mouth. A few of them stumble
in their haste while rushing for the automatic

01:33:11.239 --> 01:33:15.010
sliding doors.
Some fall to the ground, only for others to

01:33:15.010 --> 01:33:19.870
clamber over them, leaping like athletes going
over hurdles, with all the same speed but

01:33:19.870 --> 01:33:25.300
with none of the grace. To the staff inside
the store, they look like a pack of zombies,

01:33:25.300 --> 01:33:30.030
all apparently infected by the same virus
that had given them such a ravenous hunger…

01:33:30.030 --> 01:33:33.840
for savings!
“I thought Black Friday was a week ago,”

01:33:33.840 --> 01:33:38.920
the Trainee remarks, as the doors slide open
and the first mob spills inside. “Welcome

01:33:38.920 --> 01:33:43.360
to the Mattress Madness Megastore everyone,
if you could kindly form an orderly-”

01:33:43.360 --> 01:33:47.820
Within seconds, the Trainee vanishes as a
tidal wave of maddened mattress store customers

01:33:47.820 --> 01:33:53.360
starts to pile into the store. Each and every
one of them is deranged, that much is clear

01:33:53.360 --> 01:33:58.110
even from a distance. Across the store, the
Store Manager watches as his colleagues are

01:33:58.110 --> 01:34:02.980
shoved and tackled out of the way, just from
their misfortune of standing too close to

01:34:02.980 --> 01:34:06.440
the entrance.
It's only as one of the mob wanders closer

01:34:06.440 --> 01:34:12.340
that the Store Manager notices their eyes;
both lids stay shut, somehow closed despite

01:34:12.340 --> 01:34:16.860
the crazed customer standing upright. They
aren’t screwed tightly, it’s clear this

01:34:16.860 --> 01:34:21.980
person isn’t forcefully keeping their eyelids
clamped down. Instead, they’re gently sealed,

01:34:21.980 --> 01:34:28.520
as if the customer is still asleep… or sleepwalking.
The whole situation was astounding; first

01:34:28.520 --> 01:34:32.560
thing in the morning, just at opening time,
a horde of sleepwalking customers barged their

01:34:32.560 --> 01:34:37.461
way into the Mattress Madness Megastore, moving
– and fighting retail staff – as if they

01:34:37.461 --> 01:34:42.150
were all still awake and fully aware. And
as if that isn’t bizarre enough, it quickly

01:34:42.150 --> 01:34:46.260
turns out these people aren’t here because
they’re eager not to miss out on great deals

01:34:46.260 --> 01:34:51.440
on their bedroom furniture. To the Store Manager’s
horror, the mob has come to the Mattress Madness

01:34:51.440 --> 01:34:56.640
Megastore… for breakfast.
He watches an elderly woman, eyes closed,

01:34:56.640 --> 01:35:01.469
shuffle up to a luxury Cashmere Pillow Top
California King size mattress and proceed

01:35:01.469 --> 01:35:06.440
to eat it. And not bite by bite either, not
even ripping off pieces to chomp through like

01:35:06.440 --> 01:35:12.690
so much cotton candy. In a far more horrifying
fashion, the old lady eats the mattress whole.

01:35:12.690 --> 01:35:18.090
The Store Manager feels his blood run cold
at the sight of her mouth widening unnaturally,

01:35:18.090 --> 01:35:23.650
unhinging like a snake eating its prey; except
in this bizarre, unaired nature documentary,

01:35:23.650 --> 01:35:28.570
the snake is a human being, and its meal is
a perfectly good bed that moments before had

01:35:28.570 --> 01:35:34.090
been resting on a stylish ottoman frame.
The same exact display of confusing carnage

01:35:34.090 --> 01:35:38.690
is unfolding all over the Mattress Madness
Megastore, people devouring entire Egyptian

01:35:38.690 --> 01:35:44.030
Cotton mattresses. Some have even devoured
their respective meals and are already moving

01:35:44.030 --> 01:35:49.110
on to any accompanying pillows or cushions,
feeding on them in much the same way. The

01:35:49.110 --> 01:35:53.550
few members of staff bold enough to try and
intervene can’t seem to wake the sleepwalking

01:35:53.550 --> 01:35:58.260
shoppers up, no matter how hard they grip
each one by the shoulders and shake, nothing

01:35:58.260 --> 01:36:02.530
can deter them from devouring divans and munching
on memory foam.

01:36:02.530 --> 01:36:07.190
A sudden, terrifying, and inescapable thought
cuts through all the confusion, striking the

01:36:07.190 --> 01:36:13.110
Store Manager with even greater fear: the
stock room. Behind a series of doors, marked

01:36:13.110 --> 01:36:18.841
with signs reading ‘Employees Only’, are
shelves upon shelves of new units. The Mattress

01:36:18.841 --> 01:36:23.940
Madness Megastore being a much bigger outlet
means there’s additional inventory to replace

01:36:23.940 --> 01:36:29.750
any mattress on the shop floor that gets sold.
And more mattresses mean more food for the

01:36:29.750 --> 01:36:31.840
mob!
The worry that these sleepwalkers might soon

01:36:31.840 --> 01:36:36.730
develop a taste for human flesh never occurs
to the Store Manager. He hurriedly races around

01:36:36.730 --> 01:36:41.340
the store, gathering up as many of his surviving
staff as he can, and urges them to help him

01:36:41.340 --> 01:36:46.449
defend the stock in the back room. Some are
already abandoning their posts, ripping nametags

01:36:46.449 --> 01:36:50.441
off their polo shirt uniforms, and rushing
to leave the store; they aren’t willing

01:36:50.441 --> 01:36:56.960
to die for $7.25 an hour. The Mattress Madness
Megastore has insurance, it’ll cover the

01:36:56.960 --> 01:37:01.600
damaged stock once the crazed customers have
feasted on feather beds. But the Manager urges

01:37:01.600 --> 01:37:06.330
them to stay; the store’s insurance covers
stock that is damaged in transit – not mattresses

01:37:06.330 --> 01:37:11.170
that are eaten by hungry lunatics!
A few stay, using the Manager’s desperation

01:37:11.170 --> 01:37:15.570
to leverage pay raises and more annual vacation
days in exchange for their help during this

01:37:15.570 --> 01:37:20.820
crisis of cashmere carnivory. With his resistance
force gathered, the Store Manager commands

01:37:20.820 --> 01:37:24.660
the remaining employees to charge for the
door at the back of the store. But some of

01:37:24.660 --> 01:37:29.630
the nearby mattress eaters overhear in the
sleepwalking state. The staff freeze, uncertain

01:37:29.630 --> 01:37:34.120
whether to bolt for the stock room, and risk
being chased by the hungry customers. They

01:37:34.120 --> 01:37:39.510
need a distraction, a sacrificial lamb, to
grab the horde’s attention. And with a solemn

01:37:39.510 --> 01:37:44.430
expression, the Store manger realizes what
he must do: this isn’t a fight he’ll make

01:37:44.430 --> 01:37:48.760
it out of alive.
He leaps up onto a twin innerspring and calls

01:37:48.760 --> 01:37:53.480
out to the crazed customers.
“Attention, everyone!” He bellows. “I’d

01:37:53.480 --> 01:37:57.710
like to announce… that all our mattresses
are half off for the next five minutes!”

01:37:57.710 --> 01:38:02.760
The crowd goes even more rabid, all eager
to eat the pillowy pedestal the Store Manager

01:38:02.760 --> 01:38:07.840
is standing upon. His staff flees in the opposite
direction, rushing to barricade themselves

01:38:07.840 --> 01:38:12.489
inside the storeroom while their boss meets
a grisly demise, and the crazed customers

01:38:12.489 --> 01:38:18.260
devour every remaining mattress in sight.
But what on earth could have possibly caused

01:38:18.260 --> 01:38:23.090
such a scene to unfold? What was the inciting
incident for this unprecedented act of mass

01:38:23.090 --> 01:38:29.219
mattress-cide, the divan destruction, and
combination carnage? All it took was one seemingly

01:38:29.219 --> 01:38:35.150
innocuous image, an unassuming online post,
to stir over seven thousand people into a

01:38:35.150 --> 01:38:40.170
featherbed feeding frenzy.
It’s December the 3rd, 2020, almost an entire

01:38:40.170 --> 01:38:45.600
day before the deranged events that would
soon unfold at the Mattress Madness Megastore.

01:38:45.600 --> 01:38:50.130
And just like he does most days after college,
the Student is trawling various internet forums

01:38:50.130 --> 01:38:55.060
in search of things to laugh at.
He’s procrastinating, and through inaction,

01:38:55.060 --> 01:38:59.320
allowing himself to be buried under a veritable
avalanche of assignments, all with rapidly

01:38:59.320 --> 01:39:03.940
approaching dates that they’re due in by.
But he doesn’t care, he can always do them

01:39:03.940 --> 01:39:09.670
tomorrow. As far as he’s concerned, there’s
plenty of time for him to waste doing… well,

01:39:09.670 --> 01:39:13.230
very little.
But no matter where he looks, nothing brings

01:39:13.230 --> 01:39:17.520
with it even the smallest hit of dopamine.
It’s been hours since he stopped checking

01:39:17.520 --> 01:39:21.590
the clock at the bottom right hand corner
of his computer screen, instead wearing out

01:39:21.590 --> 01:39:26.030
the muscles of his finger as it spins the
scrolling wheel of his mouse. His social media

01:39:26.030 --> 01:39:31.730
feed is all the same, more doom and gloom,
and despite his searching, he can’t find

01:39:31.730 --> 01:39:38.080
anything funny to alleviate his ongoing existential
nightmare for so much as a second. If anything,

01:39:38.080 --> 01:39:42.440
seeing every anxiety-inducing post about the
state of the world., or dour headlines of

01:39:42.440 --> 01:39:48.500
reposted news articles only makes everything
worse. That is, until the fateful link appears

01:39:48.500 --> 01:39:52.190
in his inbox.
It's from one of his friends at college, living

01:39:52.190 --> 01:39:56.800
in the dorm across campus. The pair of them
constantly swapped links, and exchanged memes

01:39:56.800 --> 01:40:01.429
over direct messages, sometimes while sitting
in the middle of important lectures. So, the

01:40:01.429 --> 01:40:04.920
Student quickly opens up the latest message
from his friend, pleased to have something

01:40:04.920 --> 01:40:09.969
to relieve the monotony instilled by the prior
several hours’ worth of mindless scrolling.

01:40:09.969 --> 01:40:14.699
Sure enough, his friend’s message sits waiting
to be read in his inbox. It’s just a single

01:40:14.699 --> 01:40:19.340
blue hyperlink, with no additional context
offered. Nothing to indicate what the link

01:40:19.340 --> 01:40:24.159
is or what website it leads to, or even why
the Student’s friend bothered to send it.

01:40:24.159 --> 01:40:28.310
They’re long past the need to provide context
for the memes they send each other. The link

01:40:28.310 --> 01:40:33.480
redirects to a familiar corner of the internet
to the Student, the Deep Fried Memes subreddit.

01:40:33.480 --> 01:40:37.910
Just seeing that written in the hyperlink
is enough to spur an enthusiastic click; it’s

01:40:37.910 --> 01:40:42.440
like going home, back to somewhere warm and
welcoming, where everybody knows your name,

01:40:42.440 --> 01:40:46.770
and they’re always glad you came. And where
the Student knows he’s bound to find something

01:40:46.770 --> 01:40:51.080
to entertain himself.
A ‘deep fried’ meme is usually a heavily

01:40:51.080 --> 01:40:56.170
edited image, with a number of different filters
added to it. Its contrast is boosted, the

01:40:56.170 --> 01:41:00.420
picture is over-saturated and distorted, all
to the point wherein the colors are unnatural,

01:41:00.420 --> 01:41:06.130
and the image appears as a grainy, washed-out
mess of pixels. And they’re one of the Student’s

01:41:06.130 --> 01:41:11.360
favorite sub-genre of funny posts.
Opening up the link sent by his friend, he

01:41:11.360 --> 01:41:15.869
finds one such deep-fried meme staring back
at him. It depicts a man, long-haired and

01:41:15.869 --> 01:41:20.980
wearing dark clothes, presumably a fan of
heavy metal music. In front of the Metalhead

01:41:20.980 --> 01:41:25.960
is a table, with a chessboard placed neatly
atop it. The pieces on the board are distributed

01:41:25.960 --> 01:41:31.080
in such a way that places the Metalhead in
checkmate. And his opponent? Directly opposite

01:41:31.080 --> 01:41:37.210
him at the table is a glass bowl filled with
water, and a goldfish aimlessly swimming around.

01:41:37.210 --> 01:41:42.020
And to top off this Louvre-worthy masterpiece
is text, seemingly cut and paste from various

01:41:42.020 --> 01:41:46.940
different places judging by the alternating
fonts and styles. The words have been placed

01:41:46.940 --> 01:41:51.869
into a sentence that reads:
“Tell me your secrets, fish.”

01:41:51.869 --> 01:41:56.300
And the Student explodes with laughter. As
if answering his prayers for some humorous

01:41:56.300 --> 01:42:00.210
entertainment to avoid working on his college
assignments, his friend had appeared out of

01:42:00.210 --> 01:42:04.750
the blue and delivered a perfect deep fried
meme. But that momentary boost in serotonin

01:42:04.750 --> 01:42:10.160
levels quickly subsides, and the Student knows
how these exchanges work. This has to be reciprocal,

01:42:10.160 --> 01:42:15.000
a mutual trading of memes, like for like,
akin to swapping trading cards in the playground

01:42:15.000 --> 01:42:19.880
at a younger age. And so, he searches the
subreddit for a token worthy of returning

01:42:19.880 --> 01:42:23.190
to his friend.
He clicks on a search filter, sorting the

01:42:23.190 --> 01:42:28.010
results from the top posts of all time to
the most recent posts of the day. These were

01:42:28.010 --> 01:42:32.540
fresh, hot off the presses – or out of the
deep fryer, in this case. And the newer they

01:42:32.540 --> 01:42:37.489
were, the lower the chances that his friend
had already seen them. Scrolling through,

01:42:37.489 --> 01:42:41.220
the Student is met with a few underwhelming
attempts that weren’t worthy of the prestige

01:42:41.220 --> 01:42:46.909
expected by the Deep Fried Memes subreddit;
they’d be better suited for posting on r/cringe.

01:42:46.909 --> 01:42:52.849
But then, it appears; the perfect deep-fried,
crispy, golden brown, cooked-to-perfection

01:42:52.849 --> 01:42:59.300
picture to send back to his friend.
The distorted image is a photograph of a bed,

01:42:59.300 --> 01:43:03.610
specifically a king-size mattress on what
looks like a polished wooden bedframe – although

01:43:03.610 --> 01:43:08.080
it’s not easy to tell, thanks to just how
grainy the picture has been made. Whoever

01:43:08.080 --> 01:43:12.750
edited this meme knew what they were doing,
and has nailed the absurdist, bizarre humor

01:43:12.750 --> 01:43:17.320
that the Student and his friend thrive on.
A label over the mattress simply reads ‘King

01:43:17.320 --> 01:43:21.940
Size’ and the meme is captioned in a classic
‘Top Text/Bottom Text’ format with the

01:43:21.940 --> 01:43:25.730
phrase:
“A feast fit for a king”

01:43:25.730 --> 01:43:30.159
And the pièce de resistance, the crowning
touch that makes this meme-worthy of the Student’s

01:43:30.159 --> 01:43:35.480
lofty standards, is the title given to it
by the original poster. It sums up the meme

01:43:35.480 --> 01:43:40.460
perfectly, succinctly in three words: ‘Eat
Your Mattress’. The Student erupts into

01:43:40.460 --> 01:43:45.340
uncontrollable fits of laughter, so much so
that tears start to stream down his face.

01:43:45.340 --> 01:43:49.420
His stomach almost feels like it might explode
at just how fine he thinks the post he’s

01:43:49.420 --> 01:43:52.300
found is.
Through giggles that hit like the aftershock

01:43:52.300 --> 01:43:56.230
of an earthquake, he copies the link to the
Eat Your Mattress meme into a message and

01:43:56.230 --> 01:44:01.570
hits send, to share the hilarity with his
friend. Little does he know, he’s just condemned

01:44:01.570 --> 01:44:07.800
his friend to the same fate that now awaits
him. As soon as he falls asleep, it’ll happen.

01:44:07.800 --> 01:44:11.820
And the Student and his friend aren’t the
only ones either.

01:44:11.820 --> 01:44:16.610
The post spreads, either sent directly from
one person to another, or seen by those just

01:44:16.610 --> 01:44:21.460
browsing the Deep Fried Memes subreddit and
happening across the Eat Your Mattress photo.

01:44:21.460 --> 01:44:26.139
Not all of them find it funny, they don’t
have to. They aren’t even required to share

01:44:26.139 --> 01:44:30.810
it, to pass it on to someone else and help
the post spread like wildfire. They’ve looked

01:44:30.810 --> 01:44:35.849
at it, and that’s enough.
Come the next day, an estimated seven thousand

01:44:35.849 --> 01:44:39.840
people across the world have seen the same
meme. And it affects them all in the exact

01:44:39.840 --> 01:44:45.110
same way, becoming a directive, a command
planted in their subconscious, one that they

01:44:45.110 --> 01:44:49.880
will act on without even realizing.
It’s been only a few hours since all the

01:44:49.880 --> 01:44:54.800
carnage erupted at the Mattress Madness Megastore,
but by now, the SCP Foundation has swept in

01:44:54.800 --> 01:44:59.420
and taken control of the scene. A cordon section
of multiple blocks, under the cover story

01:44:59.420 --> 01:45:03.880
of a dangerous gas leak. It’s enough to
keep civilians and prying eyes away without

01:45:03.880 --> 01:45:08.150
asking too many questions. But as for the
Foundation personnel themselves, they’ve

01:45:08.150 --> 01:45:10.969
got plenty of unanswered questions of their
own.

01:45:10.969 --> 01:45:15.199
Two members of the clean-up team are reviewing
the store’s security footage, baffled by

01:45:15.199 --> 01:45:20.340
the sights of the chaos that unfolded there
earlier that same morning. On the screen,

01:45:20.340 --> 01:45:24.989
frenzied customers are eating entire mattresses,
stretching their mouths wide open and swallowing

01:45:24.989 --> 01:45:30.130
them whole. They watch as the Store Manager
appears to make an attempt at a noble sacrifice

01:45:30.130 --> 01:45:34.510
to distract the horde of ravenous customers,
so his employees can rush towards the store

01:45:34.510 --> 01:45:37.550
room.
But the Manager is fine; once the horde has

01:45:37.550 --> 01:45:41.260
eaten all the mattresses out on the store’s
main floor, they start trying to break into

01:45:41.260 --> 01:45:45.690
the stock room out back, where the other employees
have used layers upon layers of cellophane-wrapped

01:45:45.690 --> 01:45:50.710
mattresses to barricade the door. By the time
the Foundation arrives, the customers have

01:45:50.710 --> 01:45:55.130
already forced their way into the stock room,
and have devoured around half of the mattresses

01:45:55.130 --> 01:45:58.460
while exhausted employees try to wake them
from their sleepwalking state.

01:45:58.460 --> 01:46:02.610
The Foundation sees to it that everyone affected
is rapidly administered with memory wiping

01:46:02.610 --> 01:46:07.340
amnestics to forget all about the ordeal.
Their next job is to try and track down the

01:46:07.340 --> 01:46:12.270
source of whatever caused this unprecedented
outbreak of mattress eating. But being experts

01:46:12.270 --> 01:46:16.610
in all things anomalous, it doesn’t take
the Foundation long to start pursuing possible

01:46:16.610 --> 01:46:21.440
explanations. Having already confirmed this
wasn’t a viral anomaly, their next course

01:46:21.440 --> 01:46:27.020
of action is to investigate possible memetic
causes. And sure enough, a common factor quickly

01:46:27.020 --> 01:46:30.610
presents itself.
The mob that attacked the Mattress Madness

01:46:30.610 --> 01:46:34.780
Megastore, along with subjects who have engaged
in similar acts of mattress eating across

01:46:34.780 --> 01:46:40.620
the world, all have one thing in common. Each
one has been exposed to the ‘Eat Your Mattress’

01:46:40.620 --> 01:46:45.550
post on the Deep Fried Memes subreddit. It
takes some deduction on the Foundation’s

01:46:45.550 --> 01:46:49.219
part to figure out the cause, after all, the
meme in question is similar to a number of

01:46:49.219 --> 01:46:53.910
others posted in the same subreddit. As a
result, the Foundation’s online detection

01:46:53.910 --> 01:46:59.170
software – or ‘web crawlers’ – initially
fail to flag the mattress meme as an anomalous

01:46:59.170 --> 01:47:06.810
image. Once they do, it is designated as SCP-5126.
But with a cause established, the pieces start

01:47:06.810 --> 01:47:11.560
to fit together. The Foundation’s researchers
soon realize what the image does – another

01:47:11.560 --> 01:47:15.850
reason it was initially missed is that its
effects only occur once the subject that has

01:47:15.850 --> 01:47:20.980
seen it falls asleep. The Student is one such
subject who lived through this. He dozes off

01:47:20.980 --> 01:47:24.900
in his gaming chair, well past the middle
of the night, hours after he’s first seen

01:47:24.900 --> 01:47:30.280
SCP-5126.
While sound asleep, without waking up once,

01:47:30.280 --> 01:47:34.540
he starts to seek out his mattress, laying
unoccupied on his bed on the other side of

01:47:34.540 --> 01:47:40.830
his cramped dorm room. He and all the others
who have seen SCP-5126 then consume their

01:47:40.830 --> 01:47:46.440
mattresses, including, in many cases, their
pillows, any cushions, and even plush toys.

01:47:46.440 --> 01:47:50.810
Their bodies stretch unnaturally to accommodate
the meal, only to return to normal once they

01:47:50.810 --> 01:47:55.679
have done the deed. Having returned to normal,
the Student – and the others like him – remain

01:47:55.679 --> 01:48:01.090
unaware they’ve just eaten a mattress.
But the Foundation is left puzzled, there’s

01:48:01.090 --> 01:48:05.860
still one question that hasn’t been answered.
Their examination of the several hundred customers

01:48:05.860 --> 01:48:10.230
at the Mattress Madness Megastore revealed
that the consumed mattresses aren’t digested

01:48:10.230 --> 01:48:16.760
like food ordinarily is – they vanish without
a trace. So, this naturally begs the question,

01:48:16.760 --> 01:48:21.860
where are all these eaten mattresses going?
Well, the Foundation quickly comes up with

01:48:21.860 --> 01:48:26.421
an experiment to find out…
They place tracking devices inside the cell

01:48:26.421 --> 01:48:33.650
of a member of D Class Personnel, and expose
him to SCP-5126. Sure enough, the meme takes

01:48:33.650 --> 01:48:39.131
effect, and once asleep, he eats his mattress.
The experiment is going exactly as the Foundation

01:48:39.131 --> 01:48:43.850
planned; now they can follow the signal from
the tracking devices to pinpoint the destination

01:48:43.850 --> 01:48:49.369
that all the consumed mattresses are disappearing
to. And, after several sweeps of the Earth’s

01:48:49.369 --> 01:48:54.110
surface, their satellites discover a ping,
coming from a remote location in the state

01:48:54.110 --> 01:48:58.469
of Montana.
MTF Sigma 16 suit up, ready to head out to

01:48:58.469 --> 01:49:03.349
the location. This Mobile Task Force operates
under the codename ‘Slumber Party’, and

01:49:03.349 --> 01:49:08.540
it’s up to them to investigate. They come
across a large structure, it looks a lot like

01:49:08.540 --> 01:49:13.481
a medieval castle, but it has been built out
of mattresses and large cushions; it’s the

01:49:13.481 --> 01:49:18.889
ultimate pillow fort. It even has pillars
and all the fortifications you’d expect

01:49:18.889 --> 01:49:23.429
from a real historical castle, all made out
of even more pillows.

01:49:23.429 --> 01:49:27.150
The Slumber Party team enters the fort, and
quickly discovers that the structure is able

01:49:27.150 --> 01:49:32.239
to anomalously reconstruct itself. Sigma Three
kicks over a stack of pillows and plush toys

01:49:32.239 --> 01:49:38.230
arranged to resemble a statue and watches
as it reforms after collapsing. The team ventures

01:49:38.230 --> 01:49:42.310
deeper into the pillow fort, and is quickly
met with humanoid entities that are also made

01:49:42.310 --> 01:49:46.680
out of pillows. An entity swipes a pillow
arm at Sigma One, but she ducks out of the

01:49:46.680 --> 01:49:51.949
path of the attack. Drawing her firearm, she
fires, causing a plume of feathers to spray

01:49:51.949 --> 01:49:58.090
out of the pillow person. The entity is unphased,
and several additional shots do nothing; even

01:49:58.090 --> 01:50:02.130
a taser is ineffective!
The pillow entities are exhibiting extreme

01:50:02.130 --> 01:50:08.230
resistance to damage, but Sigma Two has an
idea. She grabs a pillow from one of the walls,

01:50:08.230 --> 01:50:13.420
and uses it to bash the entity attacking her
teammate, Sigma One. The pillow person collapses

01:50:13.420 --> 01:50:18.551
into a pile on the floor, inanimate. And just
like that, the Mobile Task Force has a way

01:50:18.551 --> 01:50:23.989
to fight back. They all grab pillows, and
make quick work of their attackers, before

01:50:23.989 --> 01:50:30.361
they move on to explore the rest of the castle.
Then, they encounter… the King. There is

01:50:30.361 --> 01:50:35.840
a man, sitting atop a large stack of cushions
wearing a nightcap and pyjamas, eating feathers

01:50:35.840 --> 01:50:41.320
from an expensive brand of pillow. Scattered
around him are empty pillowcases. Trying to

01:50:41.320 --> 01:50:46.590
ignore the smell, the Slumber Party team attempts
to interrogate him. He claims to be the King

01:50:46.590 --> 01:50:51.869
of Cushion, obsessed with pillows since a
young age. Their smell, taste, and texture

01:50:51.869 --> 01:50:57.300
inspire him to create a kingdom of plush,
his masterpiece of mattresses. It doesn’t

01:50:57.300 --> 01:51:01.980
take very long for the Foundation operatives
to realize that this man is insane.

01:51:01.980 --> 01:51:07.949
They question him about how SCp-5126, the
Eat Your Mattress meme, works – how is it

01:51:07.949 --> 01:51:13.620
able to make people consume entire mattresses
and send them to the King’s cushiony castle?

01:51:13.620 --> 01:51:20.389
And why? Well, the King explains that buying
mattresses is expensive, so in order to build

01:51:20.389 --> 01:51:24.139
his castle, he’s outsourced the gathering
of building materials. As he sees it, he is

01:51:24.139 --> 01:51:28.520
offering people affected by the meme a delicious
meal in exchange for their beds, spreading

01:51:28.520 --> 01:51:31.980
the world of pillows so he can gather resources
for his kingdom.

01:51:31.980 --> 01:51:36.050
Suddenly, he challenges the Slumber Party
team to a pillow fight for having tracked

01:51:36.050 --> 01:51:41.110
him down. The king of Cushion takes up a pillow
in one hand, and charges towards the Mobile

01:51:41.110 --> 01:51:46.719
Task Force, armed and ready to do battle with
them all. He is quickly incapacitated by Sigma

01:51:46.719 --> 01:51:54.349
One’s taser and drops to the floor, defeated.
Now designated SCP-5126-A, the King of Cushion

01:51:54.349 --> 01:51:59.690
is transported back to the SCP Foundation
for analysis and containment. Their testing

01:51:59.690 --> 01:52:04.260
reveals he possesses no anomalous properties
whatsoever, and the King actually requires

01:52:04.260 --> 01:52:08.400
his stomach to be pumped thanks to the copious
amounts of pillow feathers he’s been eating.

01:52:08.400 --> 01:52:12.510
The Foundation gets to work dismantling his
pillow fort, and moving all the components

01:52:12.510 --> 01:52:16.849
into storage.
And as for the Eat Your Mattress meme itself,

01:52:16.849 --> 01:52:20.690
the Foundation’s webcrawlers are keeping
an eye out for any other posts of the anomalous

01:52:20.690 --> 01:52:24.860
image. And don’t worry, if you find yourself
giggling at a funny deep fried image that

01:52:24.860 --> 01:52:29.180
jokingly implies you should eat your mattress,
the Foundation will ensure you don’t remember

01:52:29.180 --> 01:52:32.369
it happening, and they’ll even throw in
a replacement for your swallowed mattress

01:52:32.369 --> 01:52:36.670
at no added cost – now that’s a bargain!

01:52:36.670 --> 01:52:39.470
London’s never really quiet.

01:52:39.470 --> 01:52:44.280
Even in the dead of night, there are still
taxis driving, drunks shouting, and arguments

01:52:44.280 --> 01:52:47.030
echoing from top floor windows.

01:52:47.030 --> 01:52:50.869
Cleaners and airport staff trudge through
the darkened streets on their way to work,

01:52:50.869 --> 01:52:54.310
not looking up at the bar staff and security
guards plodding home.

01:52:54.310 --> 01:52:57.650
It’s probably better that it never gets
really quiet, though.

01:52:57.650 --> 01:53:01.170
As much as the Thief would like to be able
to hear the footsteps of someone else coming

01:53:01.170 --> 01:53:05.690
his way, it’s probably best that the noises
out on the street mask his own.

01:53:05.690 --> 01:53:10.560
His theory is proven correct almost immediately
as he jumps from the overpass down into the

01:53:10.560 --> 01:53:12.190
construction site.

01:53:12.190 --> 01:53:16.179
He makes it over the barbed wire fence but
loses his footing on the landing and falls

01:53:16.179 --> 01:53:17.690
against a porta potty.

01:53:17.690 --> 01:53:21.300
The plastic wall splits, and he clatters through
into the toilet.

01:53:21.300 --> 01:53:24.020
Sticking out a hand, he manages to stop himself.

01:53:24.020 --> 01:53:27.590
You’ll never guess where his hand landed.

01:53:27.590 --> 01:53:28.840
‘Wonderful.’

01:53:28.840 --> 01:53:33.430
For a moment, he slumps there, grumbling to
himself, praying no one heard him.

01:53:33.430 --> 01:53:37.240
But outside, there’s just the regular hum
of London’s nightlife.

01:53:37.240 --> 01:53:39.040
He’s safe for now.

01:53:39.040 --> 01:53:42.840
He straightens up, opens the door of the porta
potty, and steps out.

01:53:42.840 --> 01:53:46.020
He has to crane his neck back to look up at
the structure in front of him.

01:53:46.020 --> 01:53:50.630
He’s at the base of a block of flats, or
at least what would have been a block of flats.

01:53:50.630 --> 01:53:54.489
He’d asked the chicken shop owner from across
the street about this place earlier in the

01:53:54.489 --> 01:53:55.489
day.

01:53:55.489 --> 01:53:59.020
The man told him it was supposed to be a new
development to attract young twenty-something

01:53:59.020 --> 01:54:03.890
professionals to the area, but midway through
construction, the company shut down.

01:54:03.890 --> 01:54:08.690
Now the shell of the building stands empty,
waiting to be knocked back down.

01:54:08.690 --> 01:54:12.610
With any luck, there might still be some building
equipment around here that he can salvage,

01:54:12.610 --> 01:54:15.190
or maybe a bit of copper wiring he can sell
on.

01:54:15.190 --> 01:54:18.690
At the very least, it will put a roof over
his head for a few nights.

01:54:18.690 --> 01:54:20.449
He’s even got a toilet!

01:54:20.449 --> 01:54:21.449
Kind of.

01:54:21.449 --> 01:54:24.429
He’ll scope the place out and call his wife
in a bit.

01:54:24.429 --> 01:54:28.159
After a long day working the market stalls,
she deserves her night in the soup kitchen

01:54:28.159 --> 01:54:29.159
tonight.

01:54:29.159 --> 01:54:31.750
That place had stopped letting him in after
the last fight.

01:54:31.750 --> 01:54:34.679
The pair of them aren’t exactly homeless.

01:54:34.679 --> 01:54:36.969
They just don’t have a home right now.

01:54:36.969 --> 01:54:40.849
The Thief sidles into the building, peering
around in the gloom.

01:54:40.849 --> 01:54:43.500
Exposed concrete and girders surround him
in every direction.

01:54:43.500 --> 01:54:45.800
There aren’t many walls in place yet.

01:54:45.800 --> 01:54:50.140
Just floors and ceiling, broken up by staircases
and supporting pillars.

01:54:50.140 --> 01:54:51.670
It will be quite exposed down here.

01:54:51.670 --> 01:54:56.260
He needs to head up higher to see if there
are any more secluded spots for the night.

01:54:56.260 --> 01:55:00.310
As he climbs up the stairs, the Thief hears
voices above him echoing through the empty

01:55:00.310 --> 01:55:01.889
shell of a building.

01:55:01.889 --> 01:55:03.869
He peeks over the top of the stairs.

01:55:03.869 --> 01:55:05.540
This floor’s a bit more divided up.

01:55:05.540 --> 01:55:07.500
There are a few walls in place.

01:55:07.500 --> 01:55:11.000
He sees the light of what must be a fire dancing
around the edge of one of them.

01:55:11.000 --> 01:55:14.150
That’s where the voices are coming from.

01:55:14.150 --> 01:55:15.590
Security guards wouldn’t light a fire.

01:55:15.590 --> 01:55:17.349
They must be homeless.

01:55:17.349 --> 01:55:18.349
Ugh.

01:55:18.349 --> 01:55:19.980
The Thief hates homeless people.

01:55:19.980 --> 01:55:22.989
Being surrounded by them so much at the moment
is just demeaning.

01:55:22.989 --> 01:55:24.710
They have no morals, no standards.

01:55:24.710 --> 01:55:27.139
They just lie and steal.

01:55:27.139 --> 01:55:29.920
He spies a couple of backpacks leaning against
the wall.

01:55:29.920 --> 01:55:34.020
He’ll have to be quiet, but with a bit of
luck, he can sneak over and take one of those

01:55:34.020 --> 01:55:35.590
packs without any of them hearing.

01:55:35.590 --> 01:55:39.860
He creeps up to the top of the stairs, and
a piece of metal glints at him in the dark.

01:55:39.860 --> 01:55:41.510
A sledgehammer.

01:55:41.510 --> 01:55:42.510
Lying there on the ground.

01:55:42.510 --> 01:55:45.239
He tiptoes over to it and lifts it into his
arms.

01:55:45.239 --> 01:55:46.260
It’s heavy.

01:55:46.260 --> 01:55:50.280
If he can give it a good swing, it’ll keep
him safe for sure.

01:55:50.280 --> 01:55:53.630
He grins and makes his way towards the packs
on the ground.

01:55:53.630 --> 01:55:56.469
He gently loops a hand under the shoulder
strap.

01:55:56.469 --> 01:55:59.170
Three, two, one…

01:55:59.170 --> 01:56:00.170
CLATTER!

01:56:00.170 --> 01:56:04.340
An empty can falls out of the side and bounces
off the concrete floor.

01:56:04.340 --> 01:56:06.110
‘What was that?’

01:56:06.110 --> 01:56:07.300
Oh no.

01:56:07.300 --> 01:56:10.409
The Thief shoulders the pack and runs, but
it’s too late.

01:56:10.409 --> 01:56:12.860
A pair of hands grab him and spin him around.

01:56:12.860 --> 01:56:15.900
The Thief staggers backward but stays on his
feet.

01:56:15.900 --> 01:56:17.909
Three figures surround him in the dark.

01:56:17.909 --> 01:56:19.410
He doesn’t have a choice.

01:56:19.410 --> 01:56:21.199
He swings the sledgehammer wildly.

01:56:21.199 --> 01:56:25.770
It takes all of his strength just to lift
it, but sure enough, he feels it connect.

01:56:25.770 --> 01:56:28.360
He swings it back the other way, hard as he
can.

01:56:28.360 --> 01:56:29.920
His arms strain from the effort.

01:56:29.920 --> 01:56:32.119
A man yelps in the darkness.

01:56:32.119 --> 01:56:34.250
Something heavy thuds to the floor.

01:56:34.250 --> 01:56:37.090
For a moment, all four of them stand there
in silence.

01:56:37.090 --> 01:56:39.000
The Thief holds the sledgehammer at the ready.

01:56:39.000 --> 01:56:43.489
He isn’t sure if he’s got the strength
to swing it again, even with all this adrenaline.

01:56:43.489 --> 01:56:46.340
But the other men aren’t looking at him.

01:56:46.340 --> 01:56:49.000
The two on either side stare at the man in
the middle.

01:56:49.000 --> 01:56:52.429
Or rather, what used to be the man in the
middle.

01:56:52.429 --> 01:56:54.110
The man’s friends bolt for the exit.

01:56:54.110 --> 01:56:56.830
They run off into the night without a look
back.

01:56:56.830 --> 01:57:00.360
Neither will ever be able to explain what
they saw tonight…

01:57:00.360 --> 01:57:01.360
***

01:57:01.360 --> 01:57:03.760
It takes a long time for the Thief’s hands
to warm up by the fire.

01:57:03.760 --> 01:57:07.889
They feel cold and don’t stop trembling
for a long time.

01:57:07.889 --> 01:57:10.130
So long that the sun is about to come up.

01:57:10.130 --> 01:57:12.590
There’s something red on the Thief’s hands.

01:57:12.590 --> 01:57:15.460
He can just about make it out in the flickering
light.

01:57:15.460 --> 01:57:16.460
Must be blood.

01:57:16.460 --> 01:57:21.110
He wipes it on the ground and reaches into
his pocket, fishing out the little brick phone.

01:57:21.110 --> 01:57:26.219
He’s only got 5% battery left and almost
no minutes on the SIM, no time to explain

01:57:26.219 --> 01:57:27.260
the details.

01:57:27.260 --> 01:57:31.650
He just calls his wife, gives her the location,
and tells her to come quick.

01:57:31.650 --> 01:57:34.670
She’ll need to jump from the overpass soon,
before there are too many commuters on the

01:57:34.670 --> 01:57:35.670
rails.

01:57:35.670 --> 01:57:37.210
He’s moved the body, of course.

01:57:37.210 --> 01:57:39.489
He’s sitting next to it right now, actually.

01:57:39.489 --> 01:57:42.270
Couldn’t leave it out in the open for anyone
to see.

01:57:42.270 --> 01:57:45.889
In this little nook with the fire, he’s
well hidden from the outside world.

01:57:45.889 --> 01:57:49.739
There’s graffiti on the walls, this must
be a popular spot.

01:57:49.739 --> 01:57:53.469
If anyone comes and disturbs him, he knows
what he’s doing with them.

01:57:53.469 --> 01:57:56.190
The sledgehammer leans against his leg.

01:57:56.190 --> 01:57:59.380
After about an hour, he hears footsteps on
the concrete behind him.

01:57:59.380 --> 01:58:00.920
He whistles once.

01:58:00.920 --> 01:58:03.420
Two whistles come back.

01:58:03.420 --> 01:58:05.739
His wife stops dead when she rounds the corner.

01:58:05.739 --> 01:58:09.900
He hadn’t told her what had happened over
the phone, just that he’d found them a new

01:58:09.900 --> 01:58:10.900
spot.

01:58:10.900 --> 01:58:12.800
She’s staring at the body lying next to
him.

01:58:12.800 --> 01:58:15.469
‘Rose petals and candles usually work better.’

01:58:15.469 --> 01:58:17.679
He shrugs and looks back at the flames.

01:58:17.679 --> 01:58:18.679
Not his fault.

01:58:18.679 --> 01:58:20.520
Self-defense, as always.

01:58:20.520 --> 01:58:21.940
But she doesn’t stop staring.

01:58:21.940 --> 01:58:25.190
It’s starting to annoy him now, it’s like
she’s never seen a body.

01:58:25.190 --> 01:58:26.550
What’s wrong with her?

01:58:26.550 --> 01:58:27.610
Can’t she-

01:58:27.610 --> 01:58:29.060
Then he hears it.

01:58:29.060 --> 01:58:31.250
Soft rasping breathing.

01:58:31.250 --> 01:58:34.000
Very slowly, the Thief turns his head.

01:58:34.000 --> 01:58:38.410
Lying there on the ground next to him, with
half of his head caved in, the man is still

01:58:38.410 --> 01:58:39.650
alive.

01:58:39.650 --> 01:58:42.960
Staring at them both through one horrified
eye.

01:58:42.960 --> 01:58:45.179
The Thief grasps the sledgehammer and stands
up.

01:58:45.179 --> 01:58:47.040
That just makes no sense.

01:58:47.040 --> 01:58:48.849
His wife looks puzzled too.

01:58:48.849 --> 01:58:51.449
They look at the man lying on the ground in
more detail.

01:58:51.449 --> 01:58:56.530
A chunk of his head is missing completely,
but the wound underneath is healed over.

01:58:56.530 --> 01:58:59.940
The flesh and brain underneath looks like
it’s been cauterized, as it would if he’d

01:58:59.940 --> 01:59:01.190
been burned.

01:59:01.190 --> 01:59:05.000
And surely you can’t still be alive with
that big of a chunk of your brain missing?

01:59:05.000 --> 01:59:07.070
‘Strange,’ his wife mumbles.

01:59:07.070 --> 01:59:09.920
His hand joins his on the hilt of the sledgehammer.

01:59:09.920 --> 01:59:13.470
She takes it from him and caves in the homeless
man’s head.

01:59:13.470 --> 01:59:18.080
In just a few swings, his head is a red mushy
pulp on the floor.

01:59:18.080 --> 01:59:19.139
Definitely dead now.

01:59:19.139 --> 01:59:21.730
They both stare at the body for a bit.

01:59:21.730 --> 01:59:22.880
No more breathing.

01:59:22.880 --> 01:59:23.880
Lovely.

01:59:23.880 --> 01:59:24.910
Problem solved.

01:59:24.910 --> 01:59:28.130
But the red mush doesn’t look like blood.

01:59:28.130 --> 01:59:33.360
Incredulously, his wife extends a finger and
dips it into the red mush on the homeless

01:59:33.360 --> 01:59:34.460
man’s head.

01:59:34.460 --> 01:59:38.160
She raises it to her mouth and has a taste.

01:59:38.160 --> 01:59:39.320
‘Salsa.’

01:59:39.320 --> 01:59:40.480
‘Salsa?’

01:59:40.480 --> 01:59:41.640
‘Salsa.’

01:59:41.640 --> 01:59:42.640
He doesn’t believe her.

01:59:42.640 --> 01:59:45.670
He leans down to take a nibble of the red
mush on the ground.

01:59:45.670 --> 01:59:49.159
Sure enough, the cool taste of pico de gallo
meets his tongue.

01:59:49.159 --> 01:59:50.940
It’s not bad, you know.

01:59:50.940 --> 01:59:56.190
Ignoring the sweaty grime of the homeless
man’s flesh, it’s actually pretty good.

01:59:56.190 --> 01:59:57.820
The Thief looks over at his wife.

01:59:57.820 --> 02:00:01.050
She scoops two fingers through the goop and
sticks it in her mouth.

02:00:01.050 --> 02:00:04.320
A grin spreads across her face, a glint lighting
up her eye.

02:00:04.320 --> 02:00:08.020
He’s been married to her long enough to
know what this face means.

02:00:08.020 --> 02:00:10.190
She’s got a plan.

02:00:10.190 --> 02:00:11.190
***

02:00:11.190 --> 02:00:12.190
Finding the jars proves to be the biggest
issue.

02:00:12.190 --> 02:00:15.210
Or at least, finding intact jars.

02:00:15.210 --> 02:00:19.320
Dumpster diving has never been the Thief’s
favorite pastime, feels a bit too ‘homeless’

02:00:19.320 --> 02:00:23.230
for him, but as he climbs out of his twelfth
bin of the day with nothing to show for his

02:00:23.230 --> 02:00:27.120
efforts but a measly little glass jar, he
thinks he’s had enough.

02:00:27.120 --> 02:00:29.480
He tosses a rotten potato at his wife.

02:00:29.480 --> 02:00:31.100
It splatters in her hair.

02:00:31.100 --> 02:00:35.270
It would probably stink anywhere, but amongst
all this trash the potato is probably the

02:00:35.270 --> 02:00:36.790
best smelling thing around.

02:00:36.790 --> 02:00:41.090
‘You throw one more bit of trash at me and
I’ll be dipping tortillas in what’s left

02:00:41.090 --> 02:00:42.400
of you,’ she says.

02:00:42.400 --> 02:00:44.340
The Thief’s had enough.

02:00:44.340 --> 02:00:47.030
He clambers out of the dumpster and storms
over to his wife.

02:00:47.030 --> 02:00:48.030
"This plan sucks.

02:00:48.030 --> 02:00:51.180
Why do I have to be the one covered in trash
all the time?

02:00:51.180 --> 02:00:54.500
Why am I the one always breaking into construction
sites?"

02:00:54.500 --> 02:00:59.780
He raises a fist above his head just as she
spots the jar in his hand and squeals in excitement.

02:00:59.780 --> 02:01:03.110
She pecks him on the lips and excitedly tells
him that they should have enough of them now

02:01:03.110 --> 02:01:04.500
to get started.

02:01:04.500 --> 02:01:07.380
Her lips taste of rotten potato.

02:01:07.380 --> 02:01:08.380
***

02:01:08.380 --> 02:01:10.260
Back in the construction site, they get to
work.

02:01:10.260 --> 02:01:14.360
Taking it in turns, they raise the sledgehammer
above their heads and bring it down on the

02:01:14.360 --> 02:01:16.360
homeless man’s body.

02:01:16.360 --> 02:01:20.580
With every hit they expect the magic to stop
working but it doesn’t.

02:01:20.580 --> 02:01:23.909
Dollops of salsa pool where bruises would
normally form.

02:01:23.909 --> 02:01:28.070
While one of them pummels the corpse, the
other scoops the salsa into jars, carefully

02:01:28.070 --> 02:01:32.410
screwing on the lid and writing little labels
to go alongside.

02:01:32.410 --> 02:01:34.350
Artisanal Pico De Gallo.

02:01:34.350 --> 02:01:35.650
£3.50.

02:01:35.650 --> 02:01:37.380
Salsa made straight from the heart.

02:01:37.380 --> 02:01:39.760
‘It’s not all made from the heart though
is it?’

02:01:39.760 --> 02:01:40.760
the Thief says.

02:01:40.760 --> 02:01:42.199
‘Only one jar will be.

02:01:42.199 --> 02:01:44.140
The rest will be made from his bowels and
stuff.’

02:01:44.140 --> 02:01:45.690
‘It’s all connected isn’t it.

02:01:45.690 --> 02:01:48.370
You can taste some in a bit and tell me if
any of it’s different.’

02:01:48.370 --> 02:01:52.420
He doesn’t really fancy trying bowel salsa,
but his wife makes him.

02:01:52.420 --> 02:01:54.099
She’s the one holding the hammer.

02:01:54.099 --> 02:01:58.960
You know what, if he didn’t know it was
bowel salsa, he’d never have guessed it.

02:01:58.960 --> 02:02:01.219
Tastes pretty much the same as all the rest.

02:02:01.219 --> 02:02:05.070
The pair of them manage to mash about half
of the body into salsa that day.

02:02:05.070 --> 02:02:07.840
The remaining carcass lies on the concrete
rather neatly.

02:02:07.840 --> 02:02:09.909
There’s no blood or gore at all.

02:02:09.909 --> 02:02:12.700
If anything this is a pretty sterile affair.

02:02:12.700 --> 02:02:13.700
Just salsa.

02:02:13.700 --> 02:02:15.960
‘What are we calling our business then?’

02:02:15.960 --> 02:02:17.340
the Thief asks.

02:02:17.340 --> 02:02:18.340
‘Hobo Joe’s.’

02:02:18.340 --> 02:02:20.480
His wife rolls her eyes at him and thinks
for a moment.

02:02:20.480 --> 02:02:22.230
‘El Martillo y la Pulpa.’

02:02:22.230 --> 02:02:27.360
The Thief doesn’t know any Spanish so he
just laughs and pretends he gets the joke.

02:02:27.360 --> 02:02:29.650
At least he hopes it was a joke.

02:02:29.650 --> 02:02:30.650
***

02:02:30.650 --> 02:02:32.810
Two days later, a business is booming.

02:02:32.810 --> 02:02:36.250
From the first thing in the morning until
late in the afternoon, the jars of salsa are

02:02:36.250 --> 02:02:37.750
selling like hot cakes.

02:02:37.750 --> 02:02:39.900
The two of them can hardly believe it.

02:02:39.900 --> 02:02:45.190
At lunchtime each day, the Thief has to go
back to the ‘apartment’ and ‘restock’.

02:02:45.190 --> 02:02:49.190
Those are their codewords for going back to
the dilapidated apartment complex and pulverizing

02:02:49.190 --> 02:02:53.610
the corpse of a homeless man with a sledgehammer,
just in case that wasn’t clear.

02:02:53.610 --> 02:02:57.810
At £3.50 per jar, their ‘handmade’ recipe
is pulling in the big bucks.

02:02:57.810 --> 02:03:00.700
Who’d have guessed that the homeless could
be so profitable?

02:03:00.700 --> 02:03:04.500
The market they’re selling in apparently
has a strong Mexican migrant community living

02:03:04.500 --> 02:03:05.530
nearby.

02:03:05.530 --> 02:03:10.111
On top of that, a handful of local moms started
sharing photos of the artisan salsa from the

02:03:10.111 --> 02:03:12.280
local market, which surged the demand.

02:03:12.280 --> 02:03:17.650
It might even be time to start jacking up
the prices, only they’ve got a problem.

02:03:17.650 --> 02:03:21.360
As the Thief arrives at the market with a
wheelbarrow full of freshly filled jars he

02:03:21.360 --> 02:03:24.960
pulls his wife to one side to have a whispered
conversation with her.

02:03:24.960 --> 02:03:26.780
They’re almost out of stock.

02:03:26.780 --> 02:03:31.750
And of course by the word ‘stock’ they
really mean the cold rotting dead body.

02:03:31.750 --> 02:03:33.829
His wife looks at him incredulously.

02:03:33.829 --> 02:03:35.570
Does he really not see the solution here?

02:03:35.570 --> 02:03:39.520
If you’re running low on ingredients and
your product is flying off the shelves, what

02:03:39.520 --> 02:03:40.570
do you do?

02:03:40.570 --> 02:03:44.080
You go out and source yourself some more damn
ingredients!

02:03:44.080 --> 02:03:48.130
As the Thief walks away with his wheelbarrow
and sledgehammer, he wonders why it’s always

02:03:48.130 --> 02:03:50.190
him doing the messy jobs?

02:03:50.190 --> 02:03:53.369
But try as he might, the Thief can’t find
any targets.

02:03:53.369 --> 02:03:57.260
He walks around all of the streets near the
block of flats but has no luck.

02:03:57.260 --> 02:04:00.640
He approaches one sleeping homeless man and
kicks him in the shoulder, trying to wake

02:04:00.640 --> 02:04:01.640
him.

02:04:01.640 --> 02:04:02.640
Bad idea.

02:04:02.640 --> 02:04:06.099
The man starts yelling loud enough to attract
the attention of everyone on the street.

02:04:06.099 --> 02:04:10.570
No amount of begging or bargaining is going
to get this man to move an inch.

02:04:10.570 --> 02:04:14.639
The Thief gives it a go anyway and watches
in shock as the man buries his teeth into

02:04:14.639 --> 02:04:16.240
his ankle.

02:04:16.240 --> 02:04:19.670
Limping back up the stairs into their nook
in the construction site, the Thief has a

02:04:19.670 --> 02:04:21.480
scowl on his face.

02:04:21.480 --> 02:04:24.370
After a couple of hours, his wife arrives
and joins him at the fire.

02:04:24.370 --> 02:04:27.889
It’s a good profit today, even better than
the previous day.

02:04:27.889 --> 02:04:30.750
Keep this up, and they’ll be rich in no
time.

02:04:30.750 --> 02:04:32.199
He grins at his wife.

02:04:32.199 --> 02:04:35.309
She leers back, then shoves the money back
into her pocket.

02:04:35.309 --> 02:04:38.620
Hang on a minute, that wasn’t part of the
deal.

02:04:38.620 --> 02:04:39.890
They’re partners.

02:04:39.890 --> 02:04:40.890
50/50.

02:04:40.890 --> 02:04:44.260
She bares her teeth at him and tells him she’s
just holding onto it for now.

02:04:44.260 --> 02:04:46.560
The sledgehammer sits halfway between them.

02:04:46.560 --> 02:04:48.420
The Thief glances down at it.

02:04:48.420 --> 02:04:50.119
So does his wife.

02:04:50.119 --> 02:04:52.079
But that night, they are in luck.

02:04:52.079 --> 02:04:56.050
A drunk wanders into the construction site,
he’s so wasted that he doesn’t have time

02:04:56.050 --> 02:04:59.880
to figure out that he’s been pummelled to
death by a hammer until he’s just a generous

02:04:59.880 --> 02:05:04.409
splodge of salsa fresca slowly oozing across
the concrete floor.

02:05:04.409 --> 02:05:07.079
The following night another two men saunter
in.

02:05:07.079 --> 02:05:10.690
Then the Thief convinces an obnoxious local
with a dog to follow him into the place the

02:05:10.690 --> 02:05:12.370
afternoon after that.

02:05:12.370 --> 02:05:15.719
The dog wasn’t worth the effort, it ran
around a lot before they caught it and only

02:05:15.719 --> 02:05:18.969
produced enough salsa for a medium-sized garden
party.

02:05:18.969 --> 02:05:20.719
But the haul is good.

02:05:20.719 --> 02:05:23.440
All of sudden, they are overrun with work.

02:05:23.440 --> 02:05:26.500
Jar after jar after jar.

02:05:26.500 --> 02:05:30.410
Everyone in the area keeps coming back for
more, even telling their friends about it.

02:05:30.410 --> 02:05:33.580
This salsa is to die for, they have to know
the recipe.

02:05:33.580 --> 02:05:35.190
‘Dead Londoners, drunks, dogs.

02:05:35.190 --> 02:05:36.800
That kind of thing.’

02:05:36.800 --> 02:05:41.559
The crowd of moms aren’t quite sure what
the joke was but try to laugh anyway.

02:05:41.559 --> 02:05:43.159
Everything is going perfectly.

02:05:43.159 --> 02:05:45.740
Except, of course, for the Thief’s ankle.

02:05:45.740 --> 02:05:49.270
The bite mark went purple and is now on its
way to green.

02:05:49.270 --> 02:05:53.349
The veins on his foot and up his leg are starting
to look like a funny color.

02:05:53.349 --> 02:05:56.610
He should really go to the hospital, but he
reckons it’ll be okay.

02:05:56.610 --> 02:05:59.610
Besides, they don’t really like him at any
of the hospitals around here.

02:05:59.610 --> 02:06:03.969
He’s had one too many visits and been the
reason for one too many for several other

02:06:03.969 --> 02:06:04.969
men.

02:06:04.969 --> 02:06:07.940
But that night, it’s clear that something’s
wrong.

02:06:07.940 --> 02:06:12.110
As he and his wife sit on the pile of corpses
next to their fire, he feels a cold sweat

02:06:12.110 --> 02:06:13.429
on his brow.

02:06:13.429 --> 02:06:16.159
His wife counts all of the coins into neat
piles.

02:06:16.159 --> 02:06:18.800
There’s more in front of them than they’ve
ever shared before.

02:06:18.800 --> 02:06:21.199
But his head is feeling swimmy.

02:06:21.199 --> 02:06:22.940
The Thief lies down on the corpse-bed.

02:06:22.940 --> 02:06:26.520
He’s back-to-back with an investment banker
who took the wrong alley home on his walk

02:06:26.520 --> 02:06:27.630
home from work.

02:06:27.630 --> 02:06:29.190
‘No lying down yet.

02:06:29.190 --> 02:06:31.570
You need to cook up a new batch before bed.’

02:06:31.570 --> 02:06:33.020
His wife is glaring at him.

02:06:33.020 --> 02:06:36.790
He refuses, says he’s too tired tonight,
and his ankle hurts.

02:06:36.790 --> 02:06:39.860
She starts grumbling at him about not pulling
his weight.

02:06:39.860 --> 02:06:41.370
A switch flips in his head.

02:06:41.370 --> 02:06:44.329
‘I’ll do more work when you give me what
I’m owed.

02:06:44.329 --> 02:06:46.989
The money, I want my share now.’

02:06:46.989 --> 02:06:49.099
His wife cackles and jumps to her feet.

02:06:49.099 --> 02:06:52.880
Fat chance, he’s not seeing a penny until
he actually starts to contribute.

02:06:52.880 --> 02:06:54.750
She’s the one who came up with the idea.

02:06:54.750 --> 02:06:57.190
She’s the one who sells dozens of jars a
day.

02:06:57.190 --> 02:07:00.080
She’s the one holding the sledgehammer right
now.

02:07:00.080 --> 02:07:01.080
His eyes widen.

02:07:01.080 --> 02:07:02.929
‘What are you doing with that?’

02:07:02.929 --> 02:07:04.510
‘You say your ankle’s sick?

02:07:04.510 --> 02:07:07.710
Well I know something that could help you
with that!’

02:07:07.710 --> 02:07:11.400
Before his woozy mind can register what’s
happening the sledgehammer arcs through the

02:07:11.400 --> 02:07:12.810
air towards him.

02:07:12.810 --> 02:07:14.040
That sobers him up.

02:07:14.040 --> 02:07:17.960
Lucky for him, he manages to roll out of the
way at the last moment, causing the sledgehammer

02:07:17.960 --> 02:07:20.270
to embed itself in the ground next to him.

02:07:20.270 --> 02:07:21.329
That’s it.

02:07:21.329 --> 02:07:23.369
It’s time for a hostile divorce.

02:07:23.369 --> 02:07:27.300
He hauls himself to his feet and grasps the
hammer.

02:07:27.300 --> 02:07:31.270
Pulling it as hard he can towards himself,
the metal connects with his chest and he feels

02:07:31.270 --> 02:07:33.070
the salse running down his ribs.

02:07:33.070 --> 02:07:34.970
He shoves her back.

02:07:34.970 --> 02:07:39.280
The sledgehammer catches her shoulder and
salsa-rizes it, tomato chunks fly across the

02:07:39.280 --> 02:07:41.199
room and sizzle in the fire.

02:07:41.199 --> 02:07:43.909
Back and forth, back and forth the hammer
swings.

02:07:43.909 --> 02:07:46.630
Hitting the Thief, then his wife, then him
again.

02:07:46.630 --> 02:07:52.070
On and on until nothing is left but a sledgehammer,
and two large piles of salsa.

02:07:52.070 --> 02:07:57.300
Usually, it’s the smell that alerts people
to a dead body, except for once, it was actually

02:07:57.300 --> 02:07:58.969
a pretty pleasant smell.

02:07:58.969 --> 02:08:02.340
Forensic police had to consciously stop themselves
from having a taste.

02:08:02.340 --> 02:08:05.590
One of them even happened to have some tortillas
in the car that day.

02:08:05.590 --> 02:08:08.900
By the time he returned to the station that
evening, the packet was empty.

02:08:08.900 --> 02:08:11.950
He swears to this day that he ate them dry.

02:08:11.950 --> 02:08:14.420
It wasn’t long before the story broke.

02:08:14.420 --> 02:08:18.690
Some in the local press theorized that this
was a bizarre viral marketing campaign from

02:08:18.690 --> 02:08:19.840
Doritos.

02:08:19.840 --> 02:08:23.380
Once that theory was out there, it wasn’t
long before the story died.

02:08:23.380 --> 02:08:26.469
No one likes overly aggressive advertising.

02:08:26.469 --> 02:08:31.030
To this day, Scotland Yard hasn't got a clue
what was going on at that crime scene.

02:08:31.030 --> 02:08:35.250
One senior investigating officer was unofficially
quoted shaking his head and saying ‘I don’t

02:08:35.250 --> 02:08:40.139
know what the hell happened here, sometimes
it’s best to just not ask questions.’

02:08:40.139 --> 02:08:44.790
We all know it takes two to tango, but I bet
you didn’t know it takes a sledgehammer

02:08:44.790 --> 02:08:45.940
to salsa.

02:08:45.940 --> 02:08:50.119
That was my attempt to draw some kind of lesson
from SCP-3794.

02:08:50.119 --> 02:08:53.619
You can probably guess the nickname of this
SCP already.

02:08:53.619 --> 02:08:55.910
The Salsa Sledgehammer.

02:08:55.910 --> 02:08:59.929
Currently stored in a standard item locker,
this SCP is considered to be totally safe

02:08:59.929 --> 02:09:00.929
in the right hands.

02:09:00.929 --> 02:09:05.230
You could use it to demolish walls, break
apart cinder blocks, or win over your new

02:09:05.230 --> 02:09:07.980
mother-in-law with a fresh bowl of homemade
nachos.

02:09:07.980 --> 02:09:11.360
Assuming, of course, that you have the necessary
ingredients.

02:09:11.360 --> 02:09:17.179
That is because, when SCP-3794 makes sufficiently
heavy contact with living tissue, it immediately

02:09:17.179 --> 02:09:21.040
converts the point of impact and surrounding
area into salsa.

02:09:21.040 --> 02:09:25.970
Affecting roughly 3-8cms around the impact
point, this salsa does not adhere to the rest

02:09:25.970 --> 02:09:30.750
of the body and will immediately slide out
of its crate and fall to the ground.

02:09:30.750 --> 02:09:34.760
Peering at the hole left behind, you will
see the nerve-endings, capillaries, and even

02:09:34.760 --> 02:09:38.030
main arteries will all be instantaneously
sealed off.

02:09:38.030 --> 02:09:42.630
This sledgehammer would make for a very clean
murder weapon, if it wasn’t for the human-sized

02:09:42.630 --> 02:09:45.140
amount of salsa you get everywhere in the
process.

02:09:45.140 --> 02:09:49.349
You would need to ensure you smashed up every
part of the body though, as any disconnected

02:09:49.349 --> 02:09:53.969
limbs or tissues still function and follow
orders from the brain as if nothing is wrong,

02:09:53.969 --> 02:09:56.390
as our Thief learned only too well.

02:09:56.390 --> 02:09:58.679
The salsa itself is good.

02:09:58.679 --> 02:10:00.719
Nothing incredible, but not that bad either.

02:10:00.719 --> 02:10:04.590
It just goes to show that if you stick an
‘artisan’ label on anything, then people

02:10:04.590 --> 02:10:06.640
go crazy for it.

02:10:06.640 --> 02:10:08.270
Testing on this sledgehammer has been suspended.

02:10:08.270 --> 02:10:13.370
A test subject was chosen to lie with his
head over a generously-sized serving bowl.

02:10:13.370 --> 02:10:16.750
Researchers swung the hammer and demolished
half of the test subject’s skull and brain

02:10:16.750 --> 02:10:18.560
in just one hit.

02:10:18.560 --> 02:10:23.420
Much to their surprise however, the subject
continued to exhibit all signs of consciousness,

02:10:23.420 --> 02:10:27.440
moving frantically around the room and even
writing the word ‘helped’ in the spilled

02:10:27.440 --> 02:10:28.440
salsa.

02:10:28.440 --> 02:10:32.650
The subject died thirty minutes later, the
moment that researchers taste-tested the dip.

02:10:32.650 --> 02:10:36.239
Since then, the sledgehammer has remained
in its locker.

02:10:36.239 --> 02:10:43.231
Although there is often now an air of suspicion
whenever a jar of salsa shows up in the fridge

02:10:43.231 --> 02:10:44.231
in the break room…

02:10:44.231 --> 02:10:47.230
The full moon hangs heavy in the night sky
over the dense jungle canopy.

02:10:47.230 --> 02:10:52.570
Below, the darkened palm trees stand silent
in the humid air, festooned with vines and

02:10:52.570 --> 02:10:57.000
lianas, and tropical insects hum in the undergrowth.

02:10:57.000 --> 02:11:01.929
The night is quiet and dark here, far from
the city, in one of the farthest, most secluded

02:11:01.929 --> 02:11:04.020
provinces of the Philippines.

02:11:04.020 --> 02:11:07.530
One would hardly expect anyone to be out at
this time of night.

02:11:07.530 --> 02:11:11.780
The young woman is hurrying home, carrying
a lantern before her face so that she can

02:11:11.780 --> 02:11:14.670
see where she’s going in the pitch black
of the night.

02:11:14.670 --> 02:11:18.440
Her swollen belly reveals that she’s at
least several months pregnant, her new middle

02:11:18.440 --> 02:11:22.670
throwing her off balance just enough that
she has to be careful not to stumble.

02:11:22.670 --> 02:11:26.880
A woman in her condition, she thinks, shouldn’t
be out at this time of night and certainly

02:11:26.880 --> 02:11:28.690
shouldn’t have to do household chores like
this.

02:11:28.690 --> 02:11:32.420
But the work has to get done, no matter what!

02:11:32.420 --> 02:11:36.150
She carries a basket of wet laundry under
her other arm; she is returning from washing

02:11:36.150 --> 02:11:39.930
her clothes in the river and, if she had planned
things out better, she would have been home

02:11:39.930 --> 02:11:41.869
long before the moon rose.

02:11:41.869 --> 02:11:45.510
Unfortunately, she spent far too much time
gossiping with several other village women

02:11:45.510 --> 02:11:48.949
before getting to work on scrubbing her filthy
clothes against the rocks.

02:11:48.949 --> 02:11:52.700
Luckily, it’s not too far from the river
back to her home in the village.

02:11:52.700 --> 02:11:56.559
The worst thing that might happen, she reminds
herself, is that she might lose her footing

02:11:56.559 --> 02:11:59.290
in the dark and trip over a rock or a root.

02:11:59.290 --> 02:12:03.440
There’s no chance that she might run afoul
of some nocturnal animal, she tells herself…

02:12:03.440 --> 02:12:08.099
even though the sudden chills down her spine
and sweat dripping from her brow reveals the

02:12:08.099 --> 02:12:12.610
truth, that she doesn’t believe that at
all and, in fact, she’s getting more and

02:12:12.610 --> 02:12:15.119
more nervous as she staggers through the dark.

02:12:15.119 --> 02:12:17.739
It isn’t just the threat of wild animals.

02:12:17.739 --> 02:12:21.590
She remembers the stories that her mother
told her when she was a little girl, all about

02:12:21.590 --> 02:12:25.190
sinister supernatural monsters that live in
these woods.

02:12:25.190 --> 02:12:29.090
Of course, those are just stories invented
to scare children, she tells herself.

02:12:29.090 --> 02:12:32.760
She’s a grown woman now, about to have a
child of her own.

02:12:32.760 --> 02:12:34.949
She shouldn’t be worried about bogeymen!

02:12:34.949 --> 02:12:39.440
She just needs to keep her head on her shoulders
and she’ll be sure to arrive home safely.

02:12:39.440 --> 02:12:43.920
The lantern throws its light over a figure
standing below the crook of a katmon tree.

02:12:43.920 --> 02:12:46.849
The woman jolts, nearly dropping her laundry.

02:12:46.849 --> 02:12:51.780
She gulps back a scream as she realizes that
what she sees isn’t a wild animal but rather

02:12:51.780 --> 02:12:52.809
a person.

02:12:52.809 --> 02:12:56.080
“Oh sorry,” says the young woman, her
voice shaking a little.

02:12:56.080 --> 02:12:58.280
“I didn’t think anyone else was still
out this late.

02:12:58.280 --> 02:13:00.320
I thought you were a wild animal.”

02:13:00.320 --> 02:13:05.650
“Don’t you worry, little one,” says
the figure in a soft, sibilant voice.

02:13:05.650 --> 02:13:08.820
The figure steps forward and the young woman
recognizes her.

02:13:08.820 --> 02:13:12.980
It’s an old woman from the village, her
back hunched and her long white hair falling

02:13:12.980 --> 02:13:15.420
over her shoulders in a messy tangle.

02:13:15.420 --> 02:13:19.389
The young woman feels inexplicably nervous
running into this particular villager here

02:13:19.389 --> 02:13:21.010
in the jungle at night.

02:13:21.010 --> 02:13:24.690
Many of the village kids whisper that she’s
actually a witch who has all kinds of weird

02:13:24.690 --> 02:13:26.760
supernatural powers.

02:13:26.760 --> 02:13:30.420
Even some of the village elders are afraid
to cross her for fear of getting cursed.

02:13:30.420 --> 02:13:33.870
“Where are you going at this hour?

02:13:33.870 --> 02:13:37.010
Someone in your condition shouldn’t exert
yourself so much.”

02:13:37.010 --> 02:13:42.400
“I’m just heading home,” says the young
woman, hefting the basket of laundry for emphasis.

02:13:42.400 --> 02:13:45.590
“It’s dangerous to be out so late alone.

02:13:45.590 --> 02:13:48.900
Here, let me walk home with you.

02:13:48.900 --> 02:13:52.860
There’s safety in numbers, you know.”

02:13:52.860 --> 02:13:53.860
“T-thank you.”

02:13:53.860 --> 02:13:57.030
The young woman almost wants to protest that
she doesn’t need any help getting home,

02:13:57.030 --> 02:14:00.239
because she really does not want to spend
any more time with this old woman.

02:14:00.239 --> 02:14:05.071
But, at the same time, she is reluctant to
say anything that might insult her… after

02:14:05.071 --> 02:14:08.980
all, even if the young woman doesn’t believe
in witchcraft, it’s not like she wants to

02:14:08.980 --> 02:14:10.570
take any chances.

02:14:10.570 --> 02:14:15.139
Besides, the truth is that she is rather frightened
of being alone in the dark and any company

02:14:15.139 --> 02:14:18.239
is better than nothing, even if it’s this
strange old woman.

02:14:18.239 --> 02:14:23.440
“How far along are you, honey?” says the
old woman, placing a hand against the surface

02:14:23.440 --> 02:14:25.579
of the young woman’s protruding belly.

02:14:25.579 --> 02:14:27.040
The young woman grimaces.

02:14:27.040 --> 02:14:31.170
She doesn’t like this old woman intruding
on her personal space like this.

02:14:31.170 --> 02:14:35.270
The old woman’s hands are wrinkled and veiny,
flecked with liver spots, and her fingers

02:14:35.270 --> 02:14:37.520
topped with gnarled talons.

02:14:37.520 --> 02:14:41.340
The young woman wants to cry out at the sight
of them but she bites her tongue.

02:14:41.340 --> 02:14:45.930
Instead, she answers the old woman’s probing
question as calmly and politely as she can.

02:14:45.930 --> 02:14:51.940
“Very nice, very nice,” says the old woman,
her rheumy eyes never straying from the young

02:14:51.940 --> 02:14:56.260
woman’s belly and her hands still rubbing
against her stomach as if she trying to reach

02:14:56.260 --> 02:14:57.809
something within.

02:14:57.809 --> 02:15:01.940
The old woman makes a strange sound in her
throat, like she’s smacking her lips in

02:15:01.940 --> 02:15:04.679
hunger, but it’s hard to see anything in
the dark.

02:15:04.679 --> 02:15:08.429
The young woman can only nod in confusion,
but she quickens her pace.

02:15:08.429 --> 02:15:12.280
She hopes that she can get home soon and,
once she’s home, she can get away from her

02:15:12.280 --> 02:15:14.660
unfortunate travel companion.

02:15:14.660 --> 02:15:18.889
The old woman keeps pace, grabbing her younger
traveling companion by the arm and holding

02:15:18.889 --> 02:15:19.889
tight.

02:15:19.889 --> 02:15:23.949
Her grip is surprisingly firm for such a seemingly
frail old woman, and the young woman again

02:15:23.949 --> 02:15:28.630
wonders if maybe there’s something supernatural
about this ominous crone.

02:15:28.630 --> 02:15:32.850
She wants to pull her arm away, but the old
woman’s long claws pinch cruelly into her

02:15:32.850 --> 02:15:33.850
flesh.

02:15:33.850 --> 02:15:37.040
It’s as if the old woman is silently warning
her: Don’t pull away.

02:15:37.040 --> 02:15:38.960
I’m too strong for you to escape.

02:15:38.960 --> 02:15:44.489
"What a sweet little bundle of joy you carry
there,” says the old woman as if speaking

02:15:44.489 --> 02:15:45.489
to herself.

02:15:45.489 --> 02:15:48.840
“What a delectable little burden.”

02:15:48.840 --> 02:15:52.710
The young woman knows that she’s still talking
about her unborn baby, but all this mumbling

02:15:52.710 --> 02:15:54.889
just makes her more worried.

02:15:54.889 --> 02:15:58.980
They continue walking, the young woman staring
resolutely at the small circle of illumination

02:15:58.980 --> 02:16:03.150
thrown by her lantern onto the path ahead,
doing everything in her power to not look

02:16:03.150 --> 02:16:06.610
at the old woman standing at her side for
fear that she might scream.

02:16:06.610 --> 02:16:08.650
Why is she so nervous?

02:16:08.650 --> 02:16:11.880
Worse, does the old woman sense her fear?

02:16:11.880 --> 02:16:15.340
The young woman has heard that witches are
easily offended and that’s the last thing

02:16:15.340 --> 02:16:16.929
that she needs now.

02:16:16.929 --> 02:16:20.980
She continues walking, the old woman gibbering
and whispering in her ear, plying her with

02:16:20.980 --> 02:16:22.699
odd questions about her pregnancy.

02:16:22.699 --> 02:16:24.300
“Eating well, have you?

02:16:24.300 --> 02:16:30.150
You know it’s very important to eat right
when you’re carrying, so that the baby can

02:16:30.150 --> 02:16:31.719
be born strong and healthy.”

02:16:31.719 --> 02:16:35.019
“R-right,” says the young woman.

02:16:35.019 --> 02:16:37.740
She really doesn’t need this unsolicited
advice.

02:16:37.740 --> 02:16:41.929
She heaves an audible sigh of relief as the
village comes into view over the next bluff.

02:16:41.929 --> 02:16:45.130
Thank God, she thinks, I’m almost home!

02:16:45.130 --> 02:16:48.670
She just hopes that the old woman will take
a hint and leave her alone once they arrive

02:16:48.670 --> 02:16:50.170
at her doorstep.

02:16:50.170 --> 02:16:54.130
She wonders if this old woman might try to
come into her home or maybe steer her toward

02:16:54.130 --> 02:16:55.880
some other destination.

02:16:55.880 --> 02:16:57.429
But what can she do?

02:16:57.429 --> 02:16:59.760
All she can do is keep walking home and hope
for the best.

02:16:59.760 --> 02:17:02.219
“Is it just you, is it?

02:17:02.219 --> 02:17:04.389
Is the father in the picture, hmm?

02:17:04.389 --> 02:17:09.469
I haven’t seen you with any young men lately,
have I?” asks the old woman.

02:17:09.469 --> 02:17:13.580
Her nosiness is really starting to irritate
the young woman, enough that she almost forgets

02:17:13.580 --> 02:17:14.580
her fear.

02:17:14.580 --> 02:17:18.080
“No, it’s just me,” says the young woman
automatically.

02:17:18.080 --> 02:17:20.389
She immediately regrets that confession.

02:17:20.389 --> 02:17:21.950
What is this old woman planning?

02:17:21.950 --> 02:17:24.110
Is she up to some mischief?

02:17:24.110 --> 02:17:27.670
Now she knows that the young woman lives alone
and there won’t be anyone around to see

02:17:27.670 --> 02:17:29.370
whatever this crone is planning.

02:17:29.370 --> 02:17:33.060
Her grip tightens on the young woman’s arm
as if to warn her again.

02:17:33.060 --> 02:17:35.500
The village is quiet and dark.

02:17:35.500 --> 02:17:39.819
Everyone else has already gone to bed by now,
so the pair of them walk down narrow, still

02:17:39.819 --> 02:17:40.819
streets.

02:17:40.819 --> 02:17:45.679
The only sound is the crunch crunch crunch
of gravel under their feet.

02:17:45.679 --> 02:17:50.160
After what seems like an eternity, they arrive
at the front gate of the young woman’s house.

02:17:50.160 --> 02:17:54.760
“Well, here I am,” she says, a little
too loudly and firmly to be completely casual.

02:17:54.760 --> 02:17:56.010
“This is my home.

02:17:56.010 --> 02:17:58.750
Thanks for keeping me company on my way home.”

02:17:58.750 --> 02:18:01.950
To her immense relief, the old woman lets
go of her arm.

02:18:01.950 --> 02:18:06.120
The young woman immediately pulls away, rubbing
the deep bruises left by the old woman’s

02:18:06.120 --> 02:18:07.300
gnarled talons.

02:18:07.300 --> 02:18:09.780
“Think nothing of it, my dear.”

02:18:09.780 --> 02:18:14.809
The old woman smiles widely, a long rope of
saliva dribbling from her slack lips.

02:18:14.809 --> 02:18:18.910
Her teeth look jagged and misshapen – it’s
hard to see in the dark, but they look more

02:18:18.910 --> 02:18:21.870
like the teeth of a wild beast than a human.

02:18:21.870 --> 02:18:24.460
It must be her eyes playing tricks on her
in the dim light, though.

02:18:24.460 --> 02:18:28.219
The young woman can’t help but recoil in
disgust, but luckily her face is hidden in

02:18:28.219 --> 02:18:31.210
shadows so the old woman doesn’t seem to
notice.

02:18:31.210 --> 02:18:32.760
“I’m happy to help.

02:18:32.760 --> 02:18:35.080
I hope to see you again very soon.”

02:18:35.080 --> 02:18:38.540
The young woman doesn’t wait any longer.

02:18:38.540 --> 02:18:42.300
Even before the old woman turns to leave,
the young woman scampers across her yard and

02:18:42.300 --> 02:18:44.080
yanks open her door.

02:18:44.080 --> 02:18:46.830
She runs inside and pulls the door shut behind
her.

02:18:46.830 --> 02:18:49.740
Her heart is racing and her breath comes in
ragged pants.

02:18:49.740 --> 02:18:53.870
She can feel the baby in her belly kick, suddenly
agitated by its mother’s fear.

02:18:53.870 --> 02:18:58.790
“Shh, it’s okay,” she coos softly, patting
her stomach and hoping that her tender voice

02:18:58.790 --> 02:19:00.399
will help to calm her baby.

02:19:00.399 --> 02:19:02.120
“I know you’re scared…

02:19:02.120 --> 02:19:03.330
I’m scared too.

02:19:03.330 --> 02:19:05.719
That old woman frightened me half to death!

02:19:05.719 --> 02:19:08.599
They say that she’s a witch and I’d almost
believe it.

02:19:08.599 --> 02:19:10.760
What a strange experience!”

02:19:10.760 --> 02:19:13.429
She pulls the curtain aside and peeps out
the window.

02:19:13.429 --> 02:19:15.010
The old woman is gone.

02:19:15.010 --> 02:19:19.679
The young woman looks up and down the street,
but sees no sign of her traveling companion.

02:19:19.679 --> 02:19:24.300
She inhales deeply and feels the tension drain
from her body as she lets her breath out.

02:19:24.300 --> 02:19:25.939
Thank goodness that’s all over!

02:19:25.939 --> 02:19:30.750
She can’t explain why this whole night has
unnerved her so much, but there was just something

02:19:30.750 --> 02:19:33.280
so uncanny about that strange old woman.

02:19:33.280 --> 02:19:35.609
She’s glad to be rid of her.

02:19:35.609 --> 02:19:39.790
The young woman tries to put the whole experience
out of her head as she prepares for bed.

02:19:39.790 --> 02:19:43.609
As she pulls on her night clothes, she startles
when she hears something heavy and loud clatter

02:19:43.609 --> 02:19:44.780
across the roof.

02:19:44.780 --> 02:19:49.160
It’s not unusual for roof rats or other
nocturnal animals to scurry across the roof

02:19:49.160 --> 02:19:51.740
at night, but this sounds louder than usual.

02:19:51.740 --> 02:19:55.590
“It’s probably nothing,” she tells herself
as she climbs into bed.

02:19:55.590 --> 02:19:59.370
“I’m still just upset about meeting that
old woman on my way home from the river.

02:19:59.370 --> 02:20:03.000
That whole thing must have jangled my nerves
worse than I thought if I’m flinching at

02:20:03.000 --> 02:20:04.220
every little sound.

02:20:04.220 --> 02:20:06.050
I’ll be fine when it’s light out.

02:20:06.050 --> 02:20:09.510
The sooner I get to sleep, the sooner it’ll
be morning.”

02:20:09.510 --> 02:20:13.630
Even though her nerves are rattled, she is
quite tired after a long day and it doesn’t

02:20:13.630 --> 02:20:16.250
take long before she drifts off to sleep.

02:20:16.250 --> 02:20:21.170
The young woman’s eyes close and her breathing
becomes slow and steady, the shallow rhythms

02:20:21.170 --> 02:20:22.780
of sleep.

02:20:22.780 --> 02:20:27.690
Inside her head, she might be troubled by
strange dreams, but to any outside observer,

02:20:27.690 --> 02:20:29.950
she is dead to the world.

02:20:29.950 --> 02:20:33.510
Asleep in bed, she doesn’t react to the
clattering on the roof.

02:20:33.510 --> 02:20:37.710
Whatever is up there is making an awful racket
as it drags itself over the roof tiles.

02:20:37.710 --> 02:20:42.230
If someone were around to watch, they would
see that whatever is on the roof is no rat.

02:20:42.230 --> 02:20:47.230
It’s a darkened figure, almost big enough
to be human, but strangely truncated.

02:20:47.230 --> 02:20:52.170
Two massive leathery wings unfurl behind it,
extended to help the strange creature maintain

02:20:52.170 --> 02:20:53.811
its balance upon the roof.

02:20:53.811 --> 02:20:58.971
It drags itself forward using only its hands,
long talons tapping at the roof shingles as

02:20:58.971 --> 02:21:03.149
it seeks a loose tile, anything that will
give it access to the house below.

02:21:03.149 --> 02:21:05.330
Its finger finds a crack.

02:21:05.330 --> 02:21:09.649
Wheezing and panting, the creature leans forward,
putting its eye to the crack to peer into

02:21:09.649 --> 02:21:11.040
the room below.

02:21:11.040 --> 02:21:13.609
The young woman is asleep in bed directly
below.

02:21:13.609 --> 02:21:17.710
And that’s exactly what this creature was
hoping for.

02:21:17.710 --> 02:21:21.510
The young mumbles in her sleep, her mind filled
with disturbing dreams.

02:21:21.510 --> 02:21:26.290
She’s oblivious when, all of sudden, something
drops through that crack in the ceiling.

02:21:26.290 --> 02:21:29.410
It’s long and slippery and covered in thick,
wet mucus.

02:21:29.410 --> 02:21:34.300
It looks for all the world like a tongue,
but it’s far too long to be any human tongue.

02:21:34.300 --> 02:21:39.540
It drops lower and lower into the room, extending
closer and closer to the young woman sleeping

02:21:39.540 --> 02:21:40.730
in her bed.

02:21:40.730 --> 02:21:45.061
The disgusting appendage caresses her face,
leaving a wet slug-trail of saliva across

02:21:45.061 --> 02:21:47.860
her forehead, as if it’s looking for something.

02:21:47.860 --> 02:21:52.890
Then brushes against her lips and the tongue
seems to find what it wants.

02:21:52.890 --> 02:21:56.220
Instantly, it snakes into her open mouth and
shoots down her throat.

02:21:56.220 --> 02:22:00.800
The young woman starts to sputter and choke,
her limbs thrashing and flailing – but still,

02:22:00.800 --> 02:22:03.149
she is held fast in the grip of sleep.

02:22:03.149 --> 02:22:07.060
Some wild nightmare is playing out in her
head – perhaps she fantasizes that she is

02:22:07.060 --> 02:22:11.950
drowning in a river or choking on some food
or being strangled by a fiend.

02:22:11.950 --> 02:22:15.890
Whatever she’s thinking, it couldn’t be
further from the truth: that an alien tongue

02:22:15.890 --> 02:22:17.980
has jammed itself down her throat.

02:22:17.980 --> 02:22:23.200
The tongue pushes deeper and deeper inside
her until it makes contact with her womb.

02:22:23.200 --> 02:22:27.020
A trained anatomist might balk at the idea
that the tongue could find her womb by accessing

02:22:27.020 --> 02:22:31.910
her throat, but somehow it has done exactly
this, snaking its way through the labyrinth

02:22:31.910 --> 02:22:34.900
of her insides to find her unborn baby.

02:22:34.900 --> 02:22:38.730
A sticky aperture opens up at the tip of the
tongue, revealing that the tongue is hollow

02:22:38.730 --> 02:22:40.800
– like a massive soda straw.

02:22:40.800 --> 02:22:46.020
It sucks up the baby like a vacuum, slurping
it up, up, up and out, the bulge of its prey

02:22:46.020 --> 02:22:50.689
traveling up the length of the tongue like
a wild pig swallowed by a boa constrictor.

02:22:50.689 --> 02:22:54.811
Once the baby is gone, the tongue slides out
of the woman’s mouth and retracts back toward

02:22:54.811 --> 02:22:57.470
the ceiling, disappearing back through the
subtle crack.

02:22:57.470 --> 02:23:02.720
There’s a clatter on the roof again, followed
by the soft flutter of leathery wings.

02:23:02.720 --> 02:23:07.979
The young woman settles back into a deep,
still sleep, the awful sensation of suffocation

02:23:07.979 --> 02:23:09.510
having passed.

02:23:09.510 --> 02:23:13.920
The rest of the night is peaceful and quiet,
but, when she awakens the next morning, she

02:23:13.920 --> 02:23:17.070
finds that the nightmare isn’t over.

02:23:17.070 --> 02:23:20.140
She wakes with a strange empty feeling in
her guts.

02:23:20.140 --> 02:23:21.370
Something is very wrong!

02:23:21.370 --> 02:23:23.790
She throws aside her covers and stares at
herself in shock.

02:23:23.790 --> 02:23:25.069
Her baby is gone!

02:23:25.069 --> 02:23:29.670
Her rounded belly has deflated back to its
pre-pregnancy state and she can sense, as

02:23:29.670 --> 02:23:34.000
only a mother can, that she is no longer carrying
something within her.

02:23:34.000 --> 02:23:36.220
She shrieks in terror at this bizarre revelation.

02:23:36.220 --> 02:23:37.580
What could have happened?

02:23:37.580 --> 02:23:40.040
What could be responsible?

02:23:40.040 --> 02:23:44.320
That young woman just had an encounter with
SCP-5201.

02:23:44.320 --> 02:23:51.319
SCP-5201 is a humanoid subspecies native to
the Philippines, dubbed Homo sapiens visceralis

02:23:51.319 --> 02:23:56.560
but known by many local names across the Philippine
Islands, including the aswang, the tik-tik,

02:23:56.560 --> 02:24:02.029
or simply the viscera sucker… but it is
most commonly known as the manananggal.

02:24:02.029 --> 02:24:07.370
During the day, an instance of SCP-5201 looks
like an ordinary human.

02:24:07.370 --> 02:24:12.210
At a glance, there is no way to immediately
distinguish an instance of SCP-5201 from a

02:24:12.210 --> 02:24:14.500
regular member of homo sapiens.

02:24:14.500 --> 02:24:19.390
However, Foundation researchers have found
that there do exist certain retinal irregularities

02:24:19.390 --> 02:24:24.930
unique to SCP-5201, so the agency has developed
a portable retinal scanner for use in quickly

02:24:24.930 --> 02:24:28.310
identifying instances of SCP-5201.

02:24:28.310 --> 02:24:34.740
SCP-5201 is far easier to tell from an ordinary
human at night, when it undergoes a strange

02:24:34.740 --> 02:24:36.660
and startling metamorphosis.

02:24:36.660 --> 02:24:41.950
It unfolds a pair of membranous wings, resembling
those of a bat, from its back.

02:24:41.950 --> 02:24:45.050
Even more startling, its torso splits in two.

02:24:45.050 --> 02:24:47.530
Its upper torso then flies off in search of
prey, intestines trailing behind it as it

02:24:47.530 --> 02:24:52.380
sails through the air, while its lower torso
is hidden in a secure location until SCP-5201

02:24:52.380 --> 02:24:53.950
can reconnect.

02:24:53.950 --> 02:24:59.830
SCP-5201 will seek out human prey, most likely
relying on a keenly attuned sense of smell,

02:24:59.830 --> 02:25:04.240
and, once it has chosen a victim, will alight
on the roof of their home and then snake its

02:25:04.240 --> 02:25:10.300
preternaturally long, tube-like tongue into
the house below so that it can feed.

02:25:10.300 --> 02:25:15.070
SCP-5201 feeds by inserting its tongue into
the orifices of unfortunate sleepers and sucking

02:25:15.070 --> 02:25:19.550
out their internal organs as easily as you
would suck soda through a straw.

02:25:19.550 --> 02:25:25.820
SCP-5201 will happily eat human livers, stomachs,
and intestines, but its favorite food is unborn

02:25:25.820 --> 02:25:31.960
fetuses, so much so that instances of SCP-5201
disguised in their human form can often be

02:25:31.960 --> 02:25:36.630
recognized by their tendency to drool at the
sight of pregnant women.

02:25:36.630 --> 02:25:41.800
SCP-5201 are well known to local humans, who
live in fear of nocturnal attacks by the dreaded

02:25:41.800 --> 02:25:43.069
manananggal.

02:25:43.069 --> 02:25:48.979
Interestingly, SCP-5201 can be repelled by
Abrahamic holy objects, like rosary beads

02:25:48.979 --> 02:25:54.340
or crucifixes, or can be staked through the
heart with sharpened shafts of bamboo – very

02:25:54.340 --> 02:25:58.420
similar to the means used against vampires
in western folklore.

02:25:58.420 --> 02:26:03.721
SCP-5201 is especially vulnerable when its
upper torso is out hunting, so it will always

02:26:03.721 --> 02:26:09.290
take the utmost care to hide its abandoned
lower torso in a secret, secure location.

02:26:09.290 --> 02:26:14.620
If you can find the hidden lower torso, it
is possible to kill SCO-5201 by sprinkling

02:26:14.620 --> 02:26:20.920
its exposed viscera with spices like garlic,
salt, or vinegar or, failing that, even ash

02:26:20.920 --> 02:26:22.430
or urine.

02:26:22.430 --> 02:26:27.430
This causes an unusual reaction that is not
yet fully understood by Foundation researchers,

02:26:27.430 --> 02:26:30.100
but will prevent the two halves from rejoining.

02:26:30.100 --> 02:26:34.690
If the two halves of the manananggal cannot
rejoin before dawn, sunlight will kill the

02:26:34.690 --> 02:26:35.690
creature.

02:26:35.690 --> 02:26:40.560
If none of these methods are available, it
is also possible to repel SCP-5201 by using

02:26:40.560 --> 02:26:44.180
a specialized whip fashioned from the tail
of a sting ray.

02:26:44.180 --> 02:26:49.750
The SCP foundation currently has an undisclosed
number of domesticated SCP-5201 instances

02:26:49.750 --> 02:26:53.520
held in the Fauna Containment Wing of Site-235.

02:26:53.520 --> 02:26:57.550
Because this species has been known to practice
cannibalism, each specimen is to be held in

02:26:57.550 --> 02:26:59.880
its own personal containment cell.

02:26:59.880 --> 02:27:06.069
While there are obvious ethical and logistical
concerns with feeding human organs to SCP-5201,

02:27:06.069 --> 02:27:11.960
the Foundation has discovered that SCP-5201
can still easily thrive on a diet of any newborn

02:27:11.960 --> 02:27:15.130
mammal with a mass of at least 1 kilogram.

02:27:15.130 --> 02:27:19.479
Piglets have so far proven to be the most
cost-effective and available options, but

02:27:19.479 --> 02:27:22.670
other species can be substituted as necessary.

02:27:22.670 --> 02:27:28.229
All entrances to SCP-5201 containment cells
are to be guarded by at least two Level-2

02:27:28.229 --> 02:27:34.020
personnel equipped with stingray whips, crucifixes,
or some other object found to cause harm to

02:27:34.020 --> 02:27:35.020
SCP-5201.

02:27:35.020 --> 02:27:40.300
Unlike humans, SCP-5201 have an unusual asexual
reproductive process.

02:27:40.300 --> 02:27:45.601
The lower body can regenerate a new upper
torso via a process similar to epimorphic

02:27:45.601 --> 02:27:47.870
regeneration observed in autotomous lizards.

02:27:47.870 --> 02:27:53.330
The severed upper torso of an SCP-5201 would
leave behind the parent's lower torso to search

02:27:53.330 --> 02:27:55.340
for a compatible female human.

02:27:55.340 --> 02:28:01.580
SCP-5201 would attack and consume this human,
claiming her lower torso as its own.

02:28:01.580 --> 02:28:07.090
Smearing ash, urine, or spices into the exposed
innards of the lower torso inhibits this process

02:28:07.090 --> 02:28:09.280
and prevents effective reproduction.

02:28:09.280 --> 02:28:13.130
The exact origin of SCP-5201 is unknown.

02:28:13.130 --> 02:28:16.779
Although the creature is endemic throughout
the Philippines and historical records indicate

02:28:16.779 --> 02:28:20.760
that it has inhabited the islands since at
least 1500, when it was first described by

02:28:20.760 --> 02:28:25.760
Spanish sailors to the islands, fossil remains
and genetic testing indicate that it is actually

02:28:25.760 --> 02:28:29.500
an invasive species from outside the Philippine
archipelago.

02:28:29.500 --> 02:28:34.640
SCP-5201 is currently believed to be extinct
in the wild, following eradication efforts

02:28:34.640 --> 02:28:36.380
by the Foundation in the 1990s.

02:28:36.380 --> 02:28:42.610
An epidemic of SCP-5201 attacks in the early
90s prompted the SCP Foundation to join forces

02:28:42.610 --> 02:28:47.000
with the Supernatural Committee of the Philippines
and the Global Occult Coalition to take action

02:28:47.000 --> 02:28:51.250
to prevent SCP-5201 from spreading to other
countries.

02:28:51.250 --> 02:28:56.380
Dubbed Project Dipsy, the operation involved
amnesticizing the major cities of the Philippines,

02:28:56.380 --> 02:29:02.190
funding propaganda campaigns to dismiss SCP-5201
as a product of folklore and urban legends,

02:29:02.190 --> 02:29:08.189
and eventually domesticating the surviving
SCP-5201 population for cellular regeneration

02:29:08.189 --> 02:29:09.910
research.

02:29:09.910 --> 02:29:14.819
Because of its aggressiveness and taste for
human flesh, SCP-5201 specimens regularly

02:29:14.819 --> 02:29:18.630
attempt to breach containment, and thus, have
been given the designation Euclid.

02:29:18.630 --> 02:29:23.120
And while the SCP Foundation has done its
best to eliminate the threat of SCP-5201 in

02:29:23.120 --> 02:29:27.820
the wild, there’s no guarantee that a few
instances of this vicious monster might have

02:29:27.820 --> 02:29:31.859
slipped through the cracks and possibly even
spread out into the wider world beyond its

02:29:31.859 --> 02:29:33.240
home in the Philippines.

02:29:33.240 --> 02:29:37.210
You still might want to search your room for
any suspicious cracks or holes before you

02:29:37.210 --> 02:29:38.710
bed down for the night.

02:29:38.710 --> 02:29:42.880
Because there are very few things less pleasant
than waking up from restless dreams to find

02:29:42.880 --> 02:29:46.490
a long slimy tongue jammed down your throat.

02:29:46.490 --> 02:29:50.800
It’s never a nice feeling waking up lying
amongst shards of broken glass in the middle

02:29:50.800 --> 02:29:56.170
of the road. The dawn sky above the Biker
looks almost peaceful; it's as if nothing

02:29:56.170 --> 02:30:01.250
had gone wrong at all, as if everything is
right in the world. But slowly, the throbbing

02:30:01.250 --> 02:30:05.660
pain washes into his helmeted head, and the
sound of the traffic surrounding him rises

02:30:05.660 --> 02:30:07.200
in his ears.

02:30:07.200 --> 02:30:11.689
A sea of onlookers gathers around as the cars
blast their horns. Through the cracked visor

02:30:11.689 --> 02:30:16.109
of his helmet, the biker can see concerned
faces, people calling emergency services,

02:30:16.109 --> 02:30:21.350
and a few women crying. His paramedic bike
is toppled on its side about 40 feet from

02:30:21.350 --> 02:30:25.820
him. There are long black tire marks running
up to where it lies, smoking slightly on its

02:30:25.820 --> 02:30:27.180
side.

02:30:27.180 --> 02:30:32.610
With a groan, the Biker sits himself up and
shakes his head; bad idea. Looking around,

02:30:32.610 --> 02:30:37.689
though, it seems he's the only one injured.
His bike had gone into the front of a car

02:30:37.689 --> 02:30:41.330
at the junction. The occupants of the car
stand by nervously, offering him whatever

02:30:41.330 --> 02:30:46.819
little assistance they can. But there's no
time for that, the Biker suddenly realizes!

02:30:46.819 --> 02:30:52.010
He looks down at his watch frantically. It's
12:03pm. There's not enough time. He rushes

02:30:52.010 --> 02:30:56.340
over to the bike as fast as he can and lifts
it back upright. A couple of onlookers try

02:30:56.340 --> 02:31:01.189
to grab his arms, trying to sit down to rest,
but he can’t. There’s no time!

02:31:01.189 --> 02:31:05.920
He has three minutes to get to Saint Mary's
Hospital in Central London. Right now, he's

02:31:05.920 --> 02:31:09.840
at the junction outside Baker Street station.
He can still make it on time if he gets on

02:31:09.840 --> 02:31:13.830
his bike and goes now.
The biker swings his leg onto the bike and

02:31:13.830 --> 02:31:18.040
kicks it into life. He takes a deep gulp and
looks over his shoulder at the box on the

02:31:18.040 --> 02:31:23.109
back of his bike. He can't risk opening it
here; the damage may already be done. But

02:31:23.109 --> 02:31:28.010
if the heart is still alive in that box, it
is the only chance that a 10-year-old boy

02:31:28.010 --> 02:31:32.979
has for a normal life. If he doesn't get to
the hospital in the next three minutes, his

02:31:32.979 --> 02:31:37.141
life could be over.
The school children stand in a circle, looking

02:31:37.141 --> 02:31:39.800
down at the dead bird with a morbid fascination.

02:31:39.800 --> 02:31:41.850
"Do you think it's alive?"

02:31:41.850 --> 02:31:43.840
"Nah, no way."

02:31:43.840 --> 02:31:48.070
The Boy in the middle of the group goes to
pick up a stick. With an air of false confidence,

02:31:48.070 --> 02:31:53.560
he walks up to the bird and gives it a prod.
It makes a squelching noise. The other kids

02:31:53.560 --> 02:31:57.930
all reel in shock, making retching noises
and laughing about it. It's only when their

02:31:57.930 --> 02:32:02.470
teacher comes out to call them inside that
the group disperses, leaving the animal carcass

02:32:02.470 --> 02:32:07.330
alone, sitting at the edge of the playground,
outside the view of boring adults.

02:32:07.330 --> 02:32:12.120
Each passing day, the kids wander over to
the bird's body. It's kind of the best biology

02:32:12.120 --> 02:32:17.700
lesson they've ever had as they watch the
animal slowly decompose. At first, its body

02:32:17.700 --> 02:32:23.859
just shrinks, goes flat almost. The feathers
start falling out, and it loses all of its

02:32:23.859 --> 02:32:29.500
color. Then it starts to get puffy; different
parts of its flesh bulge out in weird places,

02:32:29.500 --> 02:32:33.399
as if they're being inflated like a balloon
animal at someone’s birthday party.

02:32:33.399 --> 02:32:38.220
But then the maggots come. There are only
a couple of tiny white crawling wrigglers

02:32:38.220 --> 02:32:43.920
in the bird's body at first, but a couple
of days after that, it's infested with them.

02:32:43.920 --> 02:32:47.069
The creepy crawlies wriggle all over the body.

02:32:47.069 --> 02:32:51.530
But as the Boy looks down at the dead bird,
he spots something very peculiar, something

02:32:51.530 --> 02:32:56.830
they haven't seen in a biology class before.
There's a red maggot, wriggling and crawling

02:32:56.830 --> 02:33:01.340
in amongst the rest of the creepy crawlies.
It squirms like the rest of them, but even

02:33:01.340 --> 02:33:05.260
over the course of the school day, it quickly
grows larger than any of the others.

02:33:05.260 --> 02:33:08.750
What do you think it is? the Boy stares at
it.

02:33:08.750 --> 02:33:10.029
It looks like a worm.

02:33:10.029 --> 02:33:16.101
And a worm is exactly what it was. The next
day, when the kids return, they see that the

02:33:16.101 --> 02:33:21.200
red maggot is now much larger than any of
the others feasting on the bird. With a slightly

02:33:21.200 --> 02:33:26.460
translucent body, cherry-red coloring, and
small white speckles on its skin, it looks

02:33:26.460 --> 02:33:31.290
unlike anything they've ever seen before.
Actually, not unlike anything they've seen

02:33:31.290 --> 02:33:37.010
before, it looks exactly like something that
all the kids recognize very well. In fact,

02:33:37.010 --> 02:33:41.010
one of the kids has a bag of them right now
that he's chewing on.

02:33:41.010 --> 02:33:42.950
A candied worm.

02:33:42.950 --> 02:33:47.060
The kids stare in curiosity, first at the
bag of candy that their friend has in his

02:33:47.060 --> 02:33:52.380
hand, and then down at the worm slowly eating
its way through the decomposing bird. As far

02:33:52.380 --> 02:33:57.762
as their eyes can tell, the two things are
exactly the same. Except, of course, that

02:33:57.762 --> 02:34:01.189
the one eating the bird seems to be alive.

02:34:01.189 --> 02:34:05.680
Kids being kids, the next thing that happened
was sort of inevitable.

02:34:05.680 --> 02:34:08.090
One dares the Boy to eat it.

02:34:08.090 --> 02:34:12.439
He almost retches in disgust. There is no
way he’s even touching it.

02:34:12.439 --> 02:34:17.270
And then… Another one of the children throws
down the poison chalice and dares him.

02:34:17.270 --> 02:34:21.760
The Boy stands there nervously. He knows that
he is not allowed to eat worms. That had been

02:34:21.760 --> 02:34:26.210
a lesson ingrained in him from a very young
age. But his mother isn't here right now,

02:34:26.210 --> 02:34:30.609
and this thing doesn't look like any kind
of worm that he's seen before. It almost looks

02:34:30.609 --> 02:34:32.960
a bit tasty.

02:34:32.960 --> 02:34:36.350
In exchange for eating the worm, another one
of the children promises he’ll give him

02:34:36.350 --> 02:34:38.260
five English pounds.

02:34:38.260 --> 02:34:42.520
The kids around the circle gasp. That's a
lot of money. None of them have even got two

02:34:42.520 --> 02:34:47.030
pounds on them, let alone five. Think of all
the sweets you could buy with that kinda money.

02:34:47.030 --> 02:34:53.020
But the Boy is adamant. He puffs his chest
out, he stands up tall, and he nods firmly.

02:34:53.020 --> 02:34:55.979
Five pounds, or he wouldn't do it.

02:34:55.979 --> 02:35:01.170
After some intense schoolyard debate, the
deal is sealed.

02:35:01.170 --> 02:35:05.380
As the boy lies in bed that night, staring
at the ceiling and grumbling, he knows that

02:35:05.380 --> 02:35:08.840
he is not happy about what his friends have
done to him today. He is going to get them

02:35:08.840 --> 02:35:10.649
back for this.

02:35:10.649 --> 02:35:15.399
Only he's getting a bit of a tummy ache. "Getting"
is the wrong word. He's had a tummy ache for

02:35:15.399 --> 02:35:20.840
most of the evening. What he's experiencing
now is heartburn. It feels as if something

02:35:20.840 --> 02:35:25.439
is crawling in his chest. The Boy just ignores
it. It's probably just his worries about the

02:35:25.439 --> 02:35:29.320
worm inside of him. He chewed it up really
well; there's no way that it's still alive

02:35:29.320 --> 02:35:31.210
in him. Surely.

02:35:31.210 --> 02:35:36.069
His uneasy sleep is punctuated by rotten dreams.
Dreams in which he finds himself lying on

02:35:36.069 --> 02:35:40.550
the floor, and his playground lying on the
ground at school, unable to move as people

02:35:40.550 --> 02:35:45.420
gather around him to poke him with a stick.
He feels his skin covered with maggots - They

02:35:45.420 --> 02:35:50.380
even crawl across the surface of his eyes.
In his chest, there's a searing pain.

02:35:50.380 --> 02:35:56.229
The Boy wakes with a start as he feels his
heart pounding, thudding against his ribs.

02:35:56.229 --> 02:36:00.360
It’s agonizing. Adrenaline courses through
him as he sweats off his face. Crying out

02:36:00.360 --> 02:36:06.050
for his mom, the boy lies there in bed, feeling
the heart attacking his system.

02:36:06.050 --> 02:36:09.569
When you decide to become a surgeon, you have
to accept that you're not going to get very

02:36:09.569 --> 02:36:14.150
much sleep most nights. In fact, it's more
than that. You have to not only accept that

02:36:14.150 --> 02:36:18.420
you won't get much sleep most nights, but
you also have to be at your absolute best

02:36:18.420 --> 02:36:21.859
when you've had no sleep, and it's the middle
of the night.

02:36:21.859 --> 02:36:25.859
With over 40 years under his belt, the Surgeon
doesn't even need coffee anymore, even when

02:36:25.859 --> 02:36:30.770
the junior doctor offers it to him as he strides
toward the operating theater. Instead, he

02:36:30.770 --> 02:36:34.270
asks them to fill him in on the situation
- who is his patient, what's going on, what

02:36:34.270 --> 02:36:35.930
needs to be done?

02:36:35.930 --> 02:36:39.689
The doctor accompanying him reads the notes
in a calm but hurried voice. They haven't

02:36:39.689 --> 02:36:44.721
got much time on this one at all. At any moment,
the Boy's heart could give out. The Surgeon

02:36:44.721 --> 02:36:49.260
asks what's wrong with the organ, and the
doctor looks at his notes in apparent confusion.

02:36:49.260 --> 02:36:54.359
Apparently, over the course of the night,
the Soy has suffered a 72% reduction in the

02:36:54.359 --> 02:36:55.960
mass of his heart.

02:36:55.960 --> 02:36:59.950
The Surgeon stops just on the other side of
the door. He doesn't want to have this conversation

02:36:59.950 --> 02:37:03.660
in front of his whole team. He whispers to
the doctor in a terse voice.

02:37:03.660 --> 02:37:07.990
"What kind of infection does this boy have
that his heart has undergone that rapid of

02:37:07.990 --> 02:37:08.990
a deterioration?"

02:37:08.990 --> 02:37:13.830
"It's not an infection at all, sir. It's...
well, sir, it's a worm."

02:37:13.830 --> 02:37:18.420
The doctor holds out a sheet to him. The Surgeon
takes it from him. He looks down at the X-ray

02:37:18.420 --> 02:37:23.380
to see a scan of the boy's chest cavity. It
doesn't look so bad - there is a hole in the

02:37:23.380 --> 02:37:26.600
heart for sure, but the Surgeon has encountered
worse in his career.

02:37:26.600 --> 02:37:29.569
"This was taken when the boy was first admitted."

02:37:29.569 --> 02:37:31.479
The doctor hands the Surgeon a second X-ray.

02:37:31.479 --> 02:37:35.520
"And this was taken just one hour later."

02:37:35.520 --> 02:37:40.300
It is barely recognizable as a human heart.
There seems to be a mass growing in the cavity

02:37:40.300 --> 02:37:45.690
that was left by the heart. And there, infecting
all of the boy's organs, was the shape of

02:37:45.690 --> 02:37:48.899
a worm.
The Biker weaves his way through the traffic

02:37:48.899 --> 02:37:53.600
down Marylebone Road, eyes darting frantically
in all directions. He may have a concussion,

02:37:53.600 --> 02:37:57.790
and he may not be allowed to drive at all
right now. In fact, he knows he definitely

02:37:57.790 --> 02:38:03.000
isn't. But he is under strict instructions:
this heart needs to get to St Mary's Hospital

02:38:03.000 --> 02:38:04.790
before it's too late.

02:38:04.790 --> 02:38:09.061
The bike careens around the corner and skids
to a halt outside the emergency doors. An

02:38:09.061 --> 02:38:12.160
ambulance team in front of him is trying to
help an old lady out of the back of their

02:38:12.160 --> 02:38:16.149
vehicle, but the Biker doesn't have time for
them. He grabs the organ box from the back

02:38:16.149 --> 02:38:19.210
of the bike and races into the building.

02:38:19.210 --> 02:38:23.090
It takes all of his remaining concentration
to navigate through the maze of hospital corridors

02:38:23.090 --> 02:38:27.360
on his way to the operating theater. On a
better day, he would be able to do this with

02:38:27.360 --> 02:38:31.810
no problem, but with his head injury, he can
see the lights starting to blur all around

02:38:31.810 --> 02:38:32.810
him.

02:38:32.810 --> 02:38:40.240
Ward 6, Ward 7, Ward 7A, Ward 7B. He runs
as fast as his heavy boots will allow him,

02:38:40.240 --> 02:38:44.060
feeling that energy draining from his system.
He can't look at his watch; he can't check

02:38:44.060 --> 02:38:46.730
the time. He just has to find this Boy.

02:38:46.730 --> 02:38:51.490
Operating Theatre. There, right up ahead of
him, just a couple of hundred feet.

02:38:51.490 --> 02:38:55.030
There's a doctor waiting outside the door
who looks up at the sound of his footsteps.

02:38:55.030 --> 02:38:59.670
The Biker rips his helmet off and holds out
the box with the heart in it, panting heavily.

02:38:59.670 --> 02:39:02.660
It's the moment of truth: is he too late?

02:39:02.660 --> 02:39:07.080
The doctor looks shell-shocked, not at the
biker's arrival but clearly at something else

02:39:07.080 --> 02:39:12.250
she's just seen. The man starts to explain
but runs out of words and instead beckons

02:39:12.250 --> 02:39:16.609
the Biker to follow him into the observation
room. There, the two of them stand looking

02:39:16.609 --> 02:39:20.240
through the glass at the little boy lying
on the operating table with the surgeon standing

02:39:20.240 --> 02:39:21.370
over him.

02:39:21.370 --> 02:39:25.069
There’s something in the air. The Biker
sniffs, confused.

02:39:25.069 --> 02:39:30.600
“Can anyone else smell sugar?”
Next time you open a packet of candied worms,

02:39:30.600 --> 02:39:35.140
take a second to look through the little creepy
crawlies in the bag. Perhaps poke a couple

02:39:35.140 --> 02:39:39.840
of them just to see if any of them are moving.
You can never be too careful.

02:39:39.840 --> 02:39:42.960
If you had told the parents of that young
boy on the night when their son woke up with

02:39:42.960 --> 02:39:47.460
heart palpitations telling stories of eating
a worm at school that the only health concerns

02:39:47.460 --> 02:39:52.010
he would have going forward were mild diabetes
and a slightly raised level of blood sugar,

02:39:52.010 --> 02:39:54.660
I'm sure they would have been thrilled to
hear it.

02:39:54.660 --> 02:40:00.590
You see, SCP-839, commonly referred to within
the Foundation as "candied worms", is much

02:40:00.590 --> 02:40:06.110
scarier on the surface than it is underneath.
Not only does this SCP resemble your usual

02:40:06.110 --> 02:40:11.160
candy worm, but its body is actually composed
of sugar flavorings and colorings roughly

02:40:11.160 --> 02:40:15.399
equivalent to what you would find in most
convenience store candy aisles. Each instance

02:40:15.399 --> 02:40:20.300
even has a small raised bit of writing near
the tail specifying which flavor it is.

02:40:20.300 --> 02:40:24.130
While the origins of these worms are yet to
be determined, cases have sprung up across

02:40:24.130 --> 02:40:29.890
much of the Western world, with higher numbers
reported in areas with higher levels of diabetes.

02:40:29.890 --> 02:40:35.390
There seems to be a parallel between high
sugar diets and the presence of SCP-839. Whether

02:40:35.390 --> 02:40:39.450
they are of man-made or other origins is yet
to be determined.

02:40:39.450 --> 02:40:45.420
That is not to say the SCP-839 cannot survive
outside of human populations. This SCP in

02:40:45.420 --> 02:40:50.819
the wild primarily feeds on decomposing organic
matter and is capable of sustaining itself

02:40:50.819 --> 02:40:53.250
on a purely vegetarian diet.

02:40:53.250 --> 02:40:59.550
However, when ingested into the human body,
SCP-839 will target specific organs and burrow

02:40:59.550 --> 02:41:05.189
its way towards them. The organ in question
depends on which color candied worm the SCP

02:41:05.189 --> 02:41:10.080
instance is. For example, the red cherry-flavored
candied worms will burrow towards the heart

02:41:10.080 --> 02:41:16.040
and consume that, while the blue raspberry
ones will instead feed on the human's kidney.

02:41:16.040 --> 02:41:20.840
One would expect the health consequences of
this feeding to be severe. However, as the

02:41:20.840 --> 02:41:26.180
SCP feeds, it will also change its own shape
and chemical composition until the worm itself

02:41:26.180 --> 02:41:31.609
becomes a substitute organ for the one that
it is consuming. However, this substitute

02:41:31.609 --> 02:41:37.330
organ is not a perfect replacement, as other
health consequences are derived from its presence.

02:41:37.330 --> 02:41:43.860
For example, the green apple-flavored SCP-839-3
targets the eye and replaces it with a jelly-green

02:41:43.860 --> 02:41:49.090
version of the human eye. While this eye is
mostly capable of sight, subjects have reported

02:41:49.090 --> 02:41:53.730
mild hallucinations and blurriness of vision,
as well as a greenish tint to how they see

02:41:53.730 --> 02:41:55.250
the world.

02:41:55.250 --> 02:42:01.010
Fortunately for the Foundation, SCP-839 reproduces
sexually, meaning that individual instances

02:42:01.010 --> 02:42:06.540
require a partner in order to have offspring.
This has made containment of this SCP much

02:42:06.540 --> 02:42:10.760
more feasible, though they are a relatively
low-priority entity in the broader scope of

02:42:10.760 --> 02:42:16.340
the Foundation. There are no known cases as
of yet of any SCP-839 infections leading to

02:42:16.340 --> 02:42:18.811
death or serious chronic illness.

02:42:18.811 --> 02:42:23.130
Therefore, any instances that are captured
by the Foundation are sent to Storage Site

02:42:23.130 --> 02:42:28.610
839-1, where they are kept in a glass housing
and regularly fed a diet of plant matter each

02:42:28.610 --> 02:42:33.470
day. Here, their reproductive activity can
be closely monitored and controlled based

02:42:33.470 --> 02:42:35.779
on what research is needed.

02:42:35.779 --> 02:42:40.880
Those infected with SCP-839 instances can
continue to live long and healthy lives, with

02:42:40.880 --> 02:42:45.920
only minor health complications arising. Therefore,
the Foundation is comfortable allowing a reasonable

02:42:45.920 --> 02:42:49.170
number of cases to go unexamined in the world.

02:42:49.170 --> 02:42:53.710
So like I said, for next time you open up
a bag of candied worms, maybe just give them

02:42:53.710 --> 02:42:58.430
a quick poke. You could be saving yourself
a trip to the hospital and a lifetime dependence

02:42:58.430 --> 02:42:59.990
on insulin.

02:42:59.990 --> 02:43:05.479
The Researchers and Guards scream in terror
as the creatures run rampant through the factory.

02:43:05.479 --> 02:43:07.930
Nobody ever imagined they could be so dangerous.

02:43:07.930 --> 02:43:11.109
And all for a little live entertainment…

02:43:11.109 --> 02:43:14.439
The Janitor rolls his mop cart down the hall
of his brand-new workplace.

02:43:14.439 --> 02:43:18.780
It's his first day on the job, and he would
never let anyone hear him admit it, but he's

02:43:18.780 --> 02:43:20.181
a little bit nervous.

02:43:20.181 --> 02:43:25.770
The building is a huge, fancy research facility,
an intimidating, sprawling building bustling

02:43:25.770 --> 02:43:31.710
with researchers in lab coats, executives
in suits, and dozens of security guards.

02:43:31.710 --> 02:43:36.020
The previous place he worked had cubicles
and a breakroom with a twenty-year-old coffee

02:43:36.020 --> 02:43:41.010
machine, and this place has state-of-the-art
technology and keycard locks on every door.

02:43:41.010 --> 02:43:45.180
Still, he's here to do a job, and that's what
he's doing to do.

02:43:45.180 --> 02:43:49.210
No use getting distracted by the intensity
of the place when there are spills to clean.

02:43:49.210 --> 02:43:52.300
And apparently, there is a big one.

02:43:52.300 --> 02:43:56.740
As soon as the Janitor had clocked in, a researcher
had rushed over to tell him that he was desperately

02:43:56.740 --> 02:43:58.450
needed on one of the lower levels.

02:43:58.450 --> 02:44:02.960
So, here he was, rolling his cart toward the
elevator, holding the researcher's key card

02:44:02.960 --> 02:44:04.380
in his hand.

02:44:04.380 --> 02:44:07.939
His own won't work to take him down to the
appropriate level, his security clearance

02:44:07.939 --> 02:44:09.760
isn't high enough.

02:44:09.760 --> 02:44:14.311
He wonders, idly, why this company has such
tight security, but figures that it isn't

02:44:14.311 --> 02:44:16.810
his job to ask that sort of question.

02:44:16.810 --> 02:44:22.270
Instead, he enters the elevator, swipes the
card, and hits the button for LG-1.

02:44:22.270 --> 02:44:26.760
The elevator doors open with a "ding," and
the janitor wheels his cart out.

02:44:26.760 --> 02:44:29.811
Right away, he notices something off about
this level.

02:44:29.811 --> 02:44:35.859
There are rows of massive glass boxes, filled
with what look like giant fuzzy puppets.

02:44:35.859 --> 02:44:40.439
He can hear the usual sounds of chatter and
footsteps, but there's also the clucking of

02:44:40.439 --> 02:44:42.110
chickens, the bleat of a goat.

02:44:42.110 --> 02:44:45.120
Are there farm animals down here?

02:44:45.120 --> 02:44:47.700
Maybe that's the source of the mess they were
talking about.

02:44:47.700 --> 02:44:49.780
Test subject animals or something.

02:44:49.780 --> 02:44:53.859
He continues past the glass boxes, searching
for someone who can direct him toward the

02:44:53.859 --> 02:44:54.859
mess.

02:44:54.859 --> 02:44:59.770
As he walks, he feels dozens of eyes on him,
and stops to glance over his shoulder.

02:44:59.770 --> 02:45:04.569
His stomach drops, as he sees that the creatures
he thought were puppets have moved.

02:45:04.569 --> 02:45:09.420
They turned to face him as he passed by, eyes
locked onto his back.

02:45:09.420 --> 02:45:11.300
Whatever these things are, they're alive.

02:45:11.300 --> 02:45:14.060
And they're all watching him.

02:45:14.060 --> 02:45:16.890
He shudders, but continues walking.

02:45:16.890 --> 02:45:21.250
At the other side of the hall, he can see
a huge red spill on the tile floor.

02:45:21.250 --> 02:45:26.260
His footsteps quicken as he approaches the
spill, and a metallic smell fills his nose.

02:45:26.260 --> 02:45:32.020
He had assumed it was some sort of leakage
from machinery, but now, up close, he can

02:45:32.020 --> 02:45:33.130
tell...it's blood.

02:45:33.130 --> 02:45:36.760
That's it, no paycheck is worth whatever is
going on here.

02:45:36.760 --> 02:45:42.120
He turns to leave, abandoning the mop cart,
and comes face to face with a giant furry

02:45:42.120 --> 02:45:44.080
thing at least eight feet tall.

02:45:44.080 --> 02:45:48.840
It grins down at him, reaching toward him
with outstretched arms.

02:45:48.840 --> 02:45:54.069
Before he can run, it wraps those arms around
him and pulls him into an inescapable, bone-crushing

02:45:54.069 --> 02:45:55.069
hug.

02:45:55.069 --> 02:45:57.210
He struggles, but he can't break free.

02:45:57.210 --> 02:46:00.220
He can't breathe, the air squeezed from his
lungs.

02:46:00.220 --> 02:46:08.510
In a halting, inhuman voice, the monster says:
"Teamwork makes the dream work!"

02:46:08.510 --> 02:46:11.490
Then, everything goes black.

02:46:11.490 --> 02:46:15.790
About one week after that janitor's ill-fated
first day at work, the local police station

02:46:15.790 --> 02:46:21.580
received a video transmission from an unidentified
man reporting an emergency at the facility.

02:46:21.580 --> 02:46:26.340
No further information was given other than
the exact location of the facility, and the

02:46:26.340 --> 02:46:29.580
insistence that help be sent as quickly as
possible.

02:46:29.580 --> 02:46:34.010
When the police arrived, however, they quickly
realized that the situation was above their

02:46:34.010 --> 02:46:38.990
paygrade, and contacted an organization much
more experienced with handling unusual occurrences:

02:46:38.990 --> 02:46:40.300
The SCP Foundation.

02:46:40.300 --> 02:46:46.640
The Foundation quickly arrived, administered
amnestics to all witnesses, and investigated

02:46:46.640 --> 02:46:47.640
the area.

02:46:47.640 --> 02:46:51.439
There, they found something unlike anything
they had ever seen before.

02:46:51.439 --> 02:46:55.870
And for the SCP Foundation, that's saying
something.

02:46:55.870 --> 02:47:00.630
All human personnel at the facility had been
terminated, or were missing altogether.

02:47:00.630 --> 02:47:05.210
There was still activity present in the building,
however, though none of it was human.

02:47:05.210 --> 02:47:07.890
There were anomalous creatures roaming the
facility uninhibited.

02:47:07.890 --> 02:47:13.490
They did not resemble humans, or any known
animals, but instead looked more like costumed

02:47:13.490 --> 02:47:18.580
characters from a children's television show
along the lines of Sesame Street or Barney.

02:47:18.580 --> 02:47:23.370
The site manager's office was completely empty
of any files, and all hard drives found within

02:47:23.370 --> 02:47:24.819
had been wiped.

02:47:24.819 --> 02:47:30.210
Every surface had been sterilized and cleaned
to remove any DNA evidence or fingerprints.

02:47:30.210 --> 02:47:34.700
The anomalous creatures were promptly captured,
though they did not go without a fight.

02:47:34.700 --> 02:47:38.220
Several of the creatures were heard moving
through the vents, and were unable to be removed

02:47:38.220 --> 02:47:42.630
due to their speed, agility, and excretion
of caustic material.

02:47:42.630 --> 02:47:46.440
In the underground laboratory spaces of the
facility, the Foundation agents discovered

02:47:46.440 --> 02:47:50.650
glass tubes filled with amniotic fluid, in
which underdeveloped specimens were being

02:47:50.650 --> 02:47:52.029
grown.

02:47:52.029 --> 02:47:56.070
Agents also discovered containment chambers
made of bullet-proof glass, as well as pens

02:47:56.070 --> 02:48:01.510
filled with deceased farm animals, including
cows, chickens, and goats.

02:48:01.510 --> 02:48:05.160
Once the Foundation had rounded up all of
the creatures, the facility was blocked off

02:48:05.160 --> 02:48:11.340
from the outside world and given the official
designation: SCP-3325.

02:48:11.340 --> 02:48:17.070
SCP-3325 is an abandoned facility belonging
to Real Characters Industries.

02:48:17.070 --> 02:48:21.341
The facility includes a recording studio,
a series of underground laboratories, staff

02:48:21.341 --> 02:48:26.229
living quarters, storage, containment areas,
and an industrial-grade incinerator.

02:48:26.229 --> 02:48:31.420
There are also several administrative areas,
as well as a helipad on the structure's roof.

02:48:31.420 --> 02:48:35.819
The containment areas are home to a collection
of biologically-engineered organisms that

02:48:35.819 --> 02:48:40.689
bear a cursory resemblance to puppets or human
beings wearing plush costumes, like those

02:48:40.689 --> 02:48:43.200
seen on children's television shows.

02:48:43.200 --> 02:48:50.010
For research purposes, these organisms have
been designated SCP-3325-1.

02:48:50.010 --> 02:48:54.229
Despite their colorful appearance, which could
even be mistaken for inviting and wholesome

02:48:54.229 --> 02:49:01.280
from a distance, instances of SCP-3325-1 are
incredibly hostile to humans, and any other

02:49:01.280 --> 02:49:03.630
organisms outside their own species.

02:49:03.630 --> 02:49:07.450
Though they are vulnerable to attacks with
conventional weapons, these creatures lack

02:49:07.450 --> 02:49:12.370
any sense of pain and will continue to go
after an intended target until they are effectively

02:49:12.370 --> 02:49:14.030
destroyed.

02:49:14.030 --> 02:49:20.460
In addition to their penchant for aggression,
the instances of SCP-3325-1 are carnivorous

02:49:20.460 --> 02:49:23.410
and will eat any meat they are given access
to.

02:49:23.410 --> 02:49:28.550
Thankfully, these organisms lack reproductive
organs, so there won't be any baby plush monsters

02:49:28.550 --> 02:49:31.600
running around any time soon.

02:49:31.600 --> 02:49:37.670
Instances of SCP-3325-1 behave in an unpredictable
manner, though their most common activities

02:49:37.670 --> 02:49:42.239
are either staring at personnel blankly for
long stretches of time, attempting to attack

02:49:42.239 --> 02:49:46.690
them, or repeating assorted canned children's
television-friendly phrases in voices that

02:49:46.690 --> 02:49:51.979
Foundation personnel have described as "unsettling,"
and "disturbing."

02:49:51.979 --> 02:49:57.630
Over the course of the initial discovery and
containment of SCP-3325, SCP Foundation staff

02:49:57.630 --> 02:50:04.430
created an observation log describing all
known types of SCP-3325-1.

02:50:04.430 --> 02:50:09.020
The breakdown is as follows:

02:50:09.020 --> 02:50:14.160
SCP-3325-1a: "Long-necked avian organism with
feathers, 3 m tall.

02:50:14.160 --> 02:50:17.920
Its wings are redundant; unable to facilitate
flight.

02:50:17.920 --> 02:50:22.620
Instances are able to reach a speed of approximately
72 km/h.

02:50:22.620 --> 02:50:25.930
Aggressive behavior patterns are similar to
that of a cassowary.

02:50:25.930 --> 02:50:29.540
Instance frequently damages its beak by running
into objects.

02:50:29.540 --> 02:50:30.540
Color varies."

02:50:30.540 --> 02:50:34.960
I've encountered cassowaries before while
conducting field research, and let me just

02:50:34.960 --> 02:50:38.510
say...the dinosaurs never really did die out.

02:50:38.510 --> 02:50:41.710
They live on in those monstrous birds.

02:50:41.710 --> 02:50:45.160
But, I digress.

02:50:45.160 --> 02:50:49.021
SCP-3325-1b: "Bipedal reptilian organism.

02:50:49.021 --> 02:50:51.130
Observed in colors of purple, green, and yellow."

02:50:51.130 --> 02:50:57.729
SCP-3325-1c: "Bipedal organism covered in
fur, 1m tall.

02:50:57.729 --> 02:51:01.160
Able to sprint at speeds of around 60 km/hour.

02:51:01.160 --> 02:51:02.649
Observed to attack in packs.

02:51:02.649 --> 02:51:08.040
Upon acquiring a target, an instance will
vocalize a random phrase, which elicits aggressive

02:51:08.040 --> 02:51:10.489
behavior in other nearby instances.

02:51:10.489 --> 02:51:11.489
Color varies."

02:51:11.489 --> 02:51:17.290
SCP-3325-1d: "Unknown organism that hides
in vents.

02:51:17.290 --> 02:51:19.790
Object is able to secrete and project a corrosive
fluid.

02:51:19.790 --> 02:51:26.540
The appearance of the organism is unknown;
specimens have yet to be obtained."

02:51:26.540 --> 02:51:31.810
SCP-3325-1e: "Bipedal reptilian organism,
5m tall.

02:51:31.810 --> 02:51:33.140
Constantly "sings" in a distorted voice.

02:51:33.140 --> 02:51:40.050
The lyrics of its "song" are unintelligible,
presumably due to malformed vocal cords.

02:51:40.050 --> 02:51:42.890
Only one instance has been encountered."

02:51:42.890 --> 02:51:49.210
The other observed variety of SCP-3325-1 is
not one specific type of organism, but rather

02:51:49.210 --> 02:51:54.030
a collection of malformed creatures characterized
by the presence of conditions that, in any

02:51:54.030 --> 02:51:59.090
other organism, would cause death shortly
after, if not during, birth.

02:51:59.090 --> 02:52:04.620
These include but are not limited to: necrosis,
missing skin, tumors, additional organs in

02:52:04.620 --> 02:52:08.910
places where they shouldn't be, or other life-threatening
deformations.

02:52:08.910 --> 02:52:14.210
As you might imagine, the appearance of specimens
with this classification varies greatly.

02:52:14.210 --> 02:52:19.160
Following my initial research into SCP-3325,
several addenda were added to the official

02:52:19.160 --> 02:52:23.439
file, consisting of several pieces of pertinent,
and often troubling media.

02:52:23.439 --> 02:52:27.780
The first was a brochure discovered on the
floor of the facility, depicting a dissatisfied

02:52:27.780 --> 02:52:32.360
crying child standing next to a puppet, in
contrast to an image of the same child laughing

02:52:32.360 --> 02:52:34.750
and clapping in the presence of an SCP-3325-1
specimen.

02:52:34.750 --> 02:52:40.920
In addition to these images, the brochure
contains this text:

02:52:40.920 --> 02:52:47.010
"In today's world, children are bored of animation,
puppets, costumes, and even the once groundbreaking

02:52:47.010 --> 02:52:48.989
computer generated graphics.

02:52:48.989 --> 02:52:52.210
They've seen it all; They know it's all fake.

02:52:52.210 --> 02:52:57.120
Children nowadays want more, but what is the
next step in the entertainment industry?

02:52:57.120 --> 02:52:58.680
Think outside the box.

02:52:58.680 --> 02:53:02.939
We're not talking about puppets or any of
those materials children know are fake.

02:53:02.939 --> 02:53:08.660
We, as humans, inherently need to associate
with living, breathing creatures; not puppets

02:53:08.660 --> 02:53:09.720
or moving pictures.

02:53:09.720 --> 02:53:13.880
We're talking about Real Characters!

02:53:13.880 --> 02:53:17.880
Our goal is to provide children with characters
that are alive, that will teach them how to

02:53:17.880 --> 02:53:21.160
manage their emotions and solve life problems
realistically.

02:53:21.160 --> 02:53:24.340
You can't get more real than that!"

02:53:24.340 --> 02:53:28.620
During a subsequent sweep of the facility
grounds, an SCP Foundation employee discovered

02:53:28.620 --> 02:53:33.090
a video tape wedged between the wall and a
large papier-mache apple.

02:53:33.090 --> 02:53:38.359
Scrawled in pen across the tape's case were
the words: "we shouldn't have played God."

02:53:38.359 --> 02:53:42.460
A transcript of the video tape's contents
is included in the file's second addendum,

02:53:42.460 --> 02:53:44.700
which I will attempt to summarize for you
now.

02:53:44.700 --> 02:53:49.939
The video depicts an unidentified woman standing
next to a green instance of the cassowary-like

02:53:49.939 --> 02:53:52.540
avian species of SCP-3325-1.

02:53:52.540 --> 02:53:57.200
Two men stand behind the camera, directing
the action.

02:53:57.200 --> 02:54:01.710
Context clues suggest that this tape was intended
to serve as a demonstration of the facility's

02:54:01.710 --> 02:54:04.670
characters, possibly for potential clients
or investors.

02:54:04.670 --> 02:54:09.819
At the start of the video, the woman expresses
discomfort with the bird-like creature, which

02:54:09.819 --> 02:54:12.880
stares at her, still and unblinking.

02:54:12.880 --> 02:54:17.080
She is instructed to say her lines as scripted,
but when action is called, and the actress

02:54:17.080 --> 02:54:20.880
begins to speak, the creature bites her arm.

02:54:20.880 --> 02:54:24.939
One of the men steps in front of the camera
to intervene, but the entity does not respond

02:54:24.939 --> 02:54:26.609
to his commands.

02:54:26.609 --> 02:54:30.670
Even when the man begins to strike the creature
with a baton, it does not budge.

02:54:30.670 --> 02:54:35.529
Instead, it bites down harder and harder until
blood is drawn.

02:54:35.529 --> 02:54:39.110
Security is called, and the footage is cut
short.

02:54:39.110 --> 02:54:43.479
After the first tape was discovered, the Foundation
conducted several more sweeps of the property

02:54:43.479 --> 02:54:47.410
in an attempt to locate any additional media
they may have missed the first time.

02:54:47.410 --> 02:54:51.710
During a search of the security room, an officer's
backpack was located.

02:54:51.710 --> 02:54:56.960
It contained several personal items, including
a very expired yogurt, a Nicholas Sparks novel,

02:54:56.960 --> 02:54:59.240
and a bag of sour cream and onion chips.

02:54:59.240 --> 02:55:02.710
At the bottom of the back, however, another
tape was found.

02:55:02.710 --> 02:55:06.810
This one appeared to have been surveillance
footage captured by security cameras.

02:55:06.810 --> 02:55:10.670
This was particularly notable, given that
all other surveillance footage found at the

02:55:10.670 --> 02:55:14.550
facility had been destroyed or corrupted,
most likely deliberately.

02:55:14.550 --> 02:55:20.790
To this date, this is the only security footage
successfully recovered from SCP-3325.

02:55:20.790 --> 02:55:25.779
The footage depicts two figures, presumably
security guards, standing on a catwalk, looking

02:55:25.779 --> 02:55:30.870
down at containment pens filled with instances
of SCP-3325-1.

02:55:30.870 --> 02:55:34.810
Each guard holds a long pole with a device
attached to the tip, appearing to function

02:55:34.810 --> 02:55:37.920
similarly to a taser or a cattle prod.

02:55:37.920 --> 02:55:43.130
The guards talk amongst themselves, joking
about shocking the creatures for fun.

02:55:43.130 --> 02:55:48.250
One guard points out a particular instance
of SCP-3325-1, which is standing still and

02:55:48.250 --> 02:55:50.180
staring dead ahead.

02:55:50.180 --> 02:55:54.040
The other guard points out another stagnant
creature, which appears to be staring directly

02:55:54.040 --> 02:55:55.700
at the other guard.

02:55:55.700 --> 02:56:00.000
Disquieted by this, the guard decides to knock
the entity's hat off of its head.

02:56:00.000 --> 02:56:02.910
He grabs an empty bottle, throwing it at the
instance.

02:56:02.910 --> 02:56:06.920
The bottle collides with the hat, but the
item does not budge.

02:56:06.920 --> 02:56:11.491
Instead, it breaks open and begins to bleed,
revealing it to be a part of the creature's

02:56:11.491 --> 02:56:14.160
body rather than a costume piece.

02:56:14.160 --> 02:56:17.990
The two guards begin to panic at the sight
of the security camera, before asking "Danny"

02:56:17.990 --> 02:56:20.811
in the security room to take the tape.

02:56:20.811 --> 02:56:24.609
The second guard admonishes the first for
his behavior, and the footage cuts.

02:56:24.609 --> 02:56:27.970
After locating the preserved security footage,
the Foundation searched all rooms of the facility

02:56:27.970 --> 02:56:28.970
previously considered insignificant.

02:56:28.970 --> 02:56:33.729
In the janitor's closet, behind a row of cleaning
supplies, an audio log was found, assumed

02:56:33.729 --> 02:56:37.330
to be recorded by one of the facility's researchers.

02:56:37.330 --> 02:56:44.640
Not all of the log was significant or particularly
revealing, detailing matters such as the researcher's

02:56:44.640 --> 02:56:48.489
lunch that day or the simple trial and error
of early-stage experimentation.

02:56:48.489 --> 02:56:52.029
The later entries, however, proved to be most
illuminating.

02:56:52.029 --> 02:56:57.899
I have compiled a selection of excerpts, so
that you can hear them for yourself.

02:56:57.899 --> 02:57:03.080
"We can train the subjects to speak certain
phrases by adjusting their vocal cords and

02:57:03.080 --> 02:57:04.550
related structures to allow for speech.

02:57:04.550 --> 02:57:05.780
All those long, sleepless nights have paid
off.

02:57:05.780 --> 02:57:06.979
Subject-188 spoke a sentence today.

02:57:06.979 --> 02:57:09.960
It isn't perfect, I'll admit, but we'll get
there someday.

02:57:09.960 --> 02:57:14.000
Now, we still have to address their intelligence,
because some of the subjects lack even the

02:57:14.000 --> 02:57:15.420
most basic of self-preservation instincts.

02:57:15.420 --> 02:57:21.390
They won't even eat or drink, and have to
be fed through tubes to be kept alive.

02:57:21.390 --> 02:57:26.069
These ones will have to be incinerated.

02:57:26.069 --> 02:57:29.630
The applications for these subjects are endless.

02:57:29.630 --> 02:57:32.939
Children's television shows are just the tip
of the iceberg.

02:57:32.939 --> 02:57:36.900
In 50 years, we may be seeing petting zoos,
live performances, and appearances at events…

02:57:36.900 --> 02:57:47.090
we may even succeed in creating subjects that
are suitable to be kept as pets.

02:57:47.090 --> 02:57:48.090
Who knows?"

02:57:48.090 --> 02:57:53.830
"Someone's going to be in big trouble if another
subject attacks another actor.

02:57:53.830 --> 02:57:55.770
Their neurological structure must be inherently
unstable.

02:57:55.770 --> 02:57:58.710
I simply don't have the qualifications to
address that.

02:57:58.710 --> 02:58:01.680
I'm going to request another recruitment drive.

02:58:01.680 --> 02:58:03.399
This time for neurologists.

02:58:03.399 --> 02:58:10.720
God, that would be like looking for a needle
in a haystack.

02:58:10.720 --> 02:58:14.850
This technology is still in its infancy.

02:58:14.850 --> 02:58:21.300
We can't predict the outcome with sufficient
accuracy to produce consistent results.

02:58:21.300 --> 02:58:28.380
In the meantime, I'm suggesting that we fit
the subjects with shock collars, at least

02:58:28.380 --> 02:58:32.640
until we can control their aggressive behavior."

02:58:32.640 --> 02:58:39.670
"This is test number 31, to determine the
cause of cell lysis.

02:58:39.670 --> 02:58:41.430
The cells keep destabilizing.

02:58:41.430 --> 02:58:46.530
The structure is sound, and all the components
should fit together nicely.

02:58:46.530 --> 02:58:50.239
I've got to find a way to keep them stable.

02:58:50.239 --> 02:58:54.610
During the previous week, one of the characters
melted during shooting.

02:58:54.610 --> 02:58:58.970
Director was seriously irritated, saying we
can't have that happen again.

02:58:58.970 --> 02:59:02.720
We'll be ruined if children are traumatized,
seeing their favorite characters melting in

02:59:02.720 --> 02:59:03.720
front of them.

02:59:03.720 --> 02:59:08.529
Producing additional subjects to replace the
ones that melt is a huge hassle, so we've

02:59:08.529 --> 02:59:10.330
got to find a way to stabilize them.

02:59:10.330 --> 02:59:12.739
Just getting them in the right shape is a
tedious process.

02:59:12.739 --> 02:59:16.500
The research and development team are working
hard on this."

02:59:16.500 --> 02:59:19.779
"Subject-200 is extremely hostile, but it
lasted almost two weeks without experiencing

02:59:19.779 --> 02:59:21.000
a critical cellular breakdown.

02:59:21.000 --> 02:59:22.000
This is much longer than any of the other
subjects engineered.

02:59:22.000 --> 02:59:26.521
Due to the combination of cells utilized,
the subject is able to produce a highly corrosive

02:59:26.521 --> 02:59:28.430
acid; ultimately, an undesired side effect.

02:59:28.430 --> 02:59:33.100
Cell structure and genome have been recorded,
and the subject is to be terminated for its

02:59:33.100 --> 02:59:34.100
aggressive behavior.

02:59:34.100 --> 02:59:37.160
Future experiments will be conducted to determine
methods to reduce aggression in the subjects."

02:59:37.160 --> 02:59:39.280
"The subjects are exhibiting what appears
to be a primitive form of intelligence.

02:59:39.280 --> 02:59:41.630
Previously they were content with just sitting
around, doing nothing.

02:59:41.630 --> 02:59:47.239
That was a problem in itself, as they were
a waste of resources and couldn't be trained.

02:59:47.239 --> 02:59:50.730
These ones appear to be able to communicate,
although I can't determine what the medium

02:59:50.730 --> 02:59:51.730
is.

02:59:51.730 --> 02:59:52.730
Furthermore, they've developed some kind of
hierarchy.

02:59:52.730 --> 02:59:53.730
Further study is required.

02:59:53.730 --> 02:59:55.400
Otherwise, we might as well terminate this
batch.

02:59:55.400 --> 02:59:56.560
This level of intelligence is not necessary."

02:59:56.560 --> 02:59:58.550
"None of the higher-ups are taking me seriously!

02:59:58.550 --> 03:00:00.990
It's not just me, it's the other researchers
as well!

03:00:00.990 --> 03:00:01.990
What are they thinking?

03:00:01.990 --> 03:00:03.750
Where do they think they're directing our
research?

03:00:03.750 --> 03:00:07.550
I can understand that we were supposed to
stabilize these things to stop them from melting

03:00:07.550 --> 03:00:08.730
on screen, but they're becoming more dangerous.

03:00:08.730 --> 03:00:10.061
I think something is going on here.

03:00:10.061 --> 03:00:11.580
I don't think it's about that kid's show.

03:00:11.580 --> 03:00:13.790
Maybe it was, at first, but now I'm not so
sure."

03:00:13.790 --> 03:00:16.540
Over the course of his later logs, the researcher
became increasingly agitated and paranoid,

03:00:16.540 --> 03:00:18.110
convinced his employers were hiding something
from him.

03:00:18.110 --> 03:00:19.890
The tension was only exacerbated following
a security breach.

03:00:19.890 --> 03:00:21.680
"The escaped subjects were caught and incinerated.

03:00:21.680 --> 03:00:23.260
Security footage revealed the problem.

03:00:23.260 --> 03:00:25.060
They tricked the guards watching them.

03:00:25.060 --> 03:00:29.370
They played dead so the guards would go in
to retrieve their carcasses for incineration.

03:00:29.370 --> 03:00:30.460
That's when they struck.

03:00:30.460 --> 03:00:32.840
Now we have a guy dead, and another with severe
injuries.

03:00:32.840 --> 03:00:34.760
How the hell did this behavior develop?

03:00:34.760 --> 03:00:38.350
How could we not have observed this level
of intelligence in previous tests?

03:00:38.350 --> 03:00:39.460
These things are dangerous.

03:00:39.460 --> 03:00:41.670
They are not suitable for any children's show.

03:00:41.670 --> 03:00:43.319
Not unless we can control them."

03:00:43.319 --> 03:00:44.910
During the next recording, another security
breach occurred.

03:00:44.910 --> 03:00:46.020
"They've rounded up the researchers.

03:00:46.020 --> 03:00:47.870
I slipped away and called for help.

03:00:47.870 --> 03:00:48.930
This was no accident.

03:00:48.930 --> 03:00:49.989
This breach was planned.

03:00:49.989 --> 03:00:51.580
All subjects were released at once.

03:00:51.580 --> 03:00:53.960
I don't know how much time I have left.

03:00:53.960 --> 03:00:55.550
I should have seen it sooner.

03:00:55.550 --> 03:00:57.130
More and more researchers were disappearing.

03:00:57.130 --> 03:00:58.860
They knew too much, and I'm next.

03:00:58.860 --> 03:00:59.860
Listen.

03:00:59.860 --> 03:01:00.860
You can't let them do this.

03:01:00.860 --> 03:01:02.840
There were these people over at the facility.

03:01:02.840 --> 03:01:04.859
Guys in suits, the subjects were ignoring
them.

03:01:04.859 --> 03:01:06.109
This is a conspiracy.

03:01:06.109 --> 03:01:10.189
Those times they came over, I think they were
discussing- Oh, God, please…

03:01:10.189 --> 03:01:11.189
Oh, God…

03:01:11.189 --> 03:01:12.189
No!

03:01:12.189 --> 03:01:13.189
Please, don't-"

03:01:13.189 --> 03:01:16.050
At this point, the Researcher's speech was
cut short by a scream, and several gunshots,

03:01:16.050 --> 03:01:19.450
as he was gunned down by his own colleagues
for the information he’d recorded.

03:01:19.450 --> 03:01:21.200
The recording continues for 37 minutes of
silence.

03:01:21.200 --> 03:01:24.610
The next addendum to the SCP-3325 file is,
in the opinion of this researcher, the most

03:01:24.610 --> 03:01:25.610
disturbing.

03:01:25.610 --> 03:01:30.750
Field agents retrieved 79 steel containers
from a storage area on the bottom floor of

03:01:30.750 --> 03:01:31.750
the facility.

03:01:31.750 --> 03:01:33.460
41 of these containers contained human bodies
preserved in a formaldehyde solution.

03:01:33.460 --> 03:01:36.439
Additionally, each container had documents
attached, detailing each person's name and

03:01:36.439 --> 03:01:40.300
position at the company, as well as the cause
of their death.

03:01:40.300 --> 03:01:43.360
Causes of death listed included "mauling,"
"organ failure," "necrosis," and "scheduled

03:01:43.360 --> 03:01:44.360
termination."

03:01:44.360 --> 03:01:45.360
SCP-3325 is classified as Euclid.

03:01:45.360 --> 03:01:48.280
Currently, SCP-3325 is contained on-site,
surrounded by a fence, and guarded by no fewer

03:01:48.280 --> 03:01:50.250
than four security guards at any given time.

03:01:50.250 --> 03:01:54.240
Due to the isolated nature of the location,
no further security measures have been deemed

03:01:54.240 --> 03:01:55.240
necessary.

03:01:55.240 --> 03:01:57.590
As for the specimens of SCP-3325-1, they are
kept in large animal containment cells at

03:01:57.590 --> 03:02:00.840
a Research Sector whose precise designation
has been redacted from official files.

03:02:00.840 --> 03:02:03.890
Each of these containment cells has an audio
recording device inside.

03:02:03.890 --> 03:02:09.010
Each specimen is to be red twice a day on
a diet of raw meat, and no direct interaction

03:02:09.010 --> 03:02:12.290
between research staff and these specimens
is permitted without first tranquilizing the

03:02:12.290 --> 03:02:13.290
entity.

03:02:13.290 --> 03:02:16.300
The effort to locate and contain all pieces
of equipment associated with SCP-3325, as

03:02:16.300 --> 03:02:20.590
well as any documents pertaining to it, is
an ongoing project.

03:02:20.590 --> 03:02:26.069
At this time, it's uncertain if any of us
will ever know what Real Characters Industries

03:02:26.069 --> 03:02:29.710
was up to, and when it turned from an attempt
to revolutionize the children's entertainment

03:02:29.710 --> 03:02:32.010
market to something far more sinister.

03:02:32.010 --> 03:02:34.500
What did the researchers discover that signed
their eventual death warrants?

03:02:34.500 --> 03:02:36.529
Who were the men in suits that the researcher
mentioned in his audio log?

03:02:36.529 --> 03:02:38.500
Was the project truly abandoned, or just moved
deeper underground, to a new facility staffed

03:02:38.500 --> 03:02:41.600
with fresh faces who won't ask too many questions?

03:02:41.600 --> 03:02:47.109
One thing is certain: be wary of cuddly new
characters that appear at theme parks, at

03:02:47.109 --> 03:02:49.480
birthday parties, and onscreen in the coming
years.

03:02:49.480 --> 03:02:53.540
It's possible that these creatures are just
actors in suits, or life-size puppets, and

03:02:53.540 --> 03:02:55.109
all they want is a hug.

03:02:55.109 --> 03:02:59.680
But it's also possible that their wide vacant
eyes and friendly smiles hide an uncontrollable

03:02:59.680 --> 03:03:02.350
rage, an unpredictable intelligence, and a
thirst for blood.

03:03:02.350 --> 03:03:07.550
The boy screams as his body transforms. His
bones warp and twist, as feathers emerge from

03:03:07.550 --> 03:03:11.750
his pores, and his skull sharpens into a long,
hard beak. He’s in a living nightmare - And

03:03:11.750 --> 03:03:15.210
who could have guessed it all started with
an innocent attempt to play hooky?

03:03:15.210 --> 03:03:18.620
It's an ordinary Monday morning, and all over
town, children are waking up and reluctantly

03:03:18.620 --> 03:03:21.970
dragging themselves out of bed for school.
Some are oversleeping, hitting the snooze

03:03:21.970 --> 03:03:27.140
on their alarms, and getting a bit of extra
shuteye before their exhausted parents notice,

03:03:27.140 --> 03:03:30.770
wake them up, and rush to get them to school
before the first-morning bell.

03:03:30.770 --> 03:03:34.540
In one particular bedroom, a young boy is
awake but still in bed, brainstorming as fast

03:03:34.540 --> 03:03:38.550
as he can. He is determined to skip school
today, however he can. He usually doesn't

03:03:38.550 --> 03:03:42.580
mind school very much, but today all he can
think about is the math test he didn't study

03:03:42.580 --> 03:03:49.040
for, and the mean classmate who likes to knock
his books out of his hands. But he can't just

03:03:49.040 --> 03:03:54.620
ask to skip school for no reason! He has to
come up with a plan.

03:03:54.620 --> 03:04:00.300
He runs to the bathroom, splashing hot water
in his face to give him a flushed appearance

03:04:00.300 --> 03:04:06.000
and a warm forehead. Then, he hops back into
bed and begins to loudly cough and sniffle,

03:04:06.000 --> 03:04:11.390
until his mother comes to check on him. He
complains that he doesn't feel well enough

03:04:11.390 --> 03:04:17.450
to go to school, and sure enough, when his
mother feels his forehead, it is hot to the

03:04:17.450 --> 03:04:22.180
touch. She agrees to let him stay home from
school for the day, provided he stays in bed

03:04:22.180 --> 03:04:24.564
and gets plenty of rest. He promises that
he will, and she leaves to go to work.

03:04:24.564 --> 03:04:29.810
On her way to work, the boy's mother remembers
that there isn't much for him to eat while

03:04:29.810 --> 03:04:35.340
he's home alone all day. At least, there isn't
much that he would want to eat while he's

03:04:35.340 --> 03:04:40.210
sick. She decides that she can be a little
bit late to work for the sake of her son's

03:04:40.210 --> 03:04:48.700
health, and pulls into a nearby grocery store.
She rushes out of her car and into the store,

03:04:48.700 --> 03:04:54.590
making a beeline for the soup aisle. She reaches
for her usual go-to brand of chicken noodle

03:04:54.590 --> 03:04:59.420
soup, but finds the shelf completely bare.
That's right! It's flu season. Of course,

03:04:59.420 --> 03:05:01.140
the soup is sold out.

03:05:01.140 --> 03:05:06.370
She starts to reach for chicken and rice instead,
when she spots a colorful label on the top

03:05:06.370 --> 03:05:09.130
shelf, depicting a chicken, vegetables, and
noodles. She stands on her tiptoes, just barely

03:05:09.130 --> 03:05:15.480
reaching the lone can. It's not a brand she's
ever heard of before, not a label she's ever

03:05:15.480 --> 03:05:20.350
seen, but it's chicken noodle soup. There's
not really a way to get it wrong. She takes

03:05:20.350 --> 03:05:23.810
the can over to the self-checkout machine,
not wanting to waste time standing in line.

03:05:23.810 --> 03:05:26.279
She scans the barcode, and the machine's screen
suddenly freezes.

03:05:26.279 --> 03:05:30.810
Oh great, this is exactly what she needs.
A sick kid at home, one can of chicken noodle

03:05:30.810 --> 03:05:36.010
soup left at the store, and the machine won't
even scan it. She smacks the side of the machine

03:05:36.010 --> 03:05:38.560
in frustration, and the screen reads: Invalid
code, transaction canceled. With a heavy sigh,

03:05:38.560 --> 03:05:44.771
she glances over her shoulder. No one is watching.
She tried to pay for the can, to do the right

03:05:44.771 --> 03:05:51.271
thing. But the machine wouldn't let her. So,
she grabs the can and runs out of the store

03:05:51.271 --> 03:05:53.070
before anyone can spot her.

03:05:53.070 --> 03:05:57.170
While his mother is out, the boy is at home
raiding the pantry for snacks to sate his

03:05:57.170 --> 03:06:00.630
not-at-all-sick appetite. He fills up on oreos
and toaster pastries, cheesy crackers, and

03:06:00.630 --> 03:06:05.060
chips. When he hears his mother's car pulling
into the driveway, he quickly wipes the crumbs

03:06:05.060 --> 03:06:10.630
from his face and jumps back into bed, just
in time for his mother to find him there,

03:06:10.630 --> 03:06:15.700
resting like he promised he would. She gives
him a kiss on the forehead, and tells him

03:06:15.700 --> 03:06:19.250
that she will heat up some chicken noodle
soup for him to eat. She's in a hurry to make

03:06:19.250 --> 03:06:23.340
it to work, though, so she'll need to leave
it in the microwave for him.

03:06:23.340 --> 03:06:31.739
She pours the contents of the soup into a
bowl, adds a bit of water, and pops the bowl

03:06:31.739 --> 03:06:40.319
into the microwave for a few minutes. She
calls up to her son, letting him know that

03:06:40.319 --> 03:06:45.640
the soup will be ready when the microwave
dings. Then, she rushes out the door and heads

03:06:45.640 --> 03:06:51.090
to work for the day, confident that her son
will be fine through her shift. If he happens

03:06:51.090 --> 03:06:54.779
to need anything, he can call her and let
her know.

03:06:54.779 --> 03:06:59.000
The boy hears the microwave ding, but his
stomach is too full from his rummage through

03:06:59.000 --> 03:07:04.189
the pantry for him to want any of the soup,
in spite of its heavenly aroma. Instead, he

03:07:04.189 --> 03:07:09.500
creeps into the living room and sits down
to play video games until his eyes start to

03:07:09.500 --> 03:07:14.489
hurt. As he boots up his gaming system, he
thinks for a moment that he can hear a strange

03:07:14.489 --> 03:07:18.560
noise coming from the kitchen, a soft clucking
sound like the chickens he saw on his grandparents'

03:07:18.560 --> 03:07:24.109
farm. But he quickly forgets about the sound
as the screen lights up, and he disappears

03:07:24.109 --> 03:07:25.609
into the world of his favorite game.

03:07:25.609 --> 03:07:29.890
He plays for hours, until the grumbling of
his stomach interrupts his concentration.

03:07:29.890 --> 03:07:34.340
He is suddenly very hungry, and remembers
the soup his mother left in the microwave!

03:07:34.340 --> 03:07:37.350
It is certainly cold and unappealing by now,
but he can just reheat it first! He punches

03:07:37.350 --> 03:07:43.090
the buttons on the microwave, and waits for
the soup to be ready. Again, he can hear strange

03:07:43.090 --> 03:07:47.840
noises coming from the microwave, but he doesn't
think anything of it. The microwave dings,

03:07:47.840 --> 03:07:52.900
and he pulls out the bowl of soup, grabs a
spoon, and digs in.

03:07:52.900 --> 03:07:58.000
A little while later, the boy's mother pulls
into the driveway in a panic. She left work

03:07:58.000 --> 03:08:03.560
early when her phone rang with a call from
her son. She answered, asking what was wrong,

03:08:03.560 --> 03:08:09.060
but he wouldn't answer her. All she could
hear on the other end was rustling, heavy

03:08:09.060 --> 03:08:10.779
breathing, and some pained grunting.

03:08:10.779 --> 03:08:16.260
Fearing the worst, she drove back as fast
as she could, running several red lights along

03:08:16.260 --> 03:08:22.630
the way. Now, she fumbles with her keys as
she unlocks the door, terrified of what she

03:08:22.630 --> 03:08:29.910
will find. She grips her phone in her other
hand, thumb hovering over the buttons, ready

03:08:29.910 --> 03:08:34.720
to dial 9-1-1 if the situation calls for it.
She pushes the front door open, calling her

03:08:34.720 --> 03:08:39.540
son's name. He doesn't answer, and her stomach
drops. Suddenly, she hears the loud THUD of

03:08:39.540 --> 03:08:44.040
something heavy being knocked to the ground.
Something is terribly wrong here, and even

03:08:44.040 --> 03:08:49.620
though she might find her worst nightmare,
she has to face whatever is waiting for her

03:08:49.620 --> 03:08:50.620
inside.

03:08:50.620 --> 03:08:55.430
She runs into the kitchen, and finds it a
mess. The bowl of soup is shattered on the

03:08:55.430 --> 03:09:01.330
floor, congealed, cold soup pooling on the
tile. The kitchen table is turned over on

03:09:01.330 --> 03:09:08.020
its side, the kitchen chairs are in disarray.
But the strangest sight is the dozens of tiny,

03:09:08.020 --> 03:09:14.050
white, fluffy things on the floor, counters,
and furniture. She picks one up for a closer

03:09:14.050 --> 03:09:19.550
look, and finds herself even more confused
than before. It's a feather. They're all feathers.

03:09:19.550 --> 03:09:25.689
She calls her son's name again, praying for
a response. This time, she receives one, though

03:09:25.689 --> 03:09:30.990
not the one she hopes for. She hears the sound
of shuffling footsteps up above, followed

03:09:30.990 --> 03:09:36.760
by a strangled sound like a scream caught
in someone's throat. She sprints up the stairs

03:09:36.760 --> 03:09:42.660
as fast as her legs can carry her, throwing
open the door to her son's bedroom. There,

03:09:42.660 --> 03:09:48.370
she finds him. But this is not the bright-eyed
boy that she left behind when she left for

03:09:48.370 --> 03:09:49.370
work.

03:09:49.370 --> 03:09:52.360
His arms are covered with a thick layer of
white feathers, the same feathers that are

03:09:52.360 --> 03:09:57.859
beginning to poke through the skin of his
face. The top of his head has elongated into

03:09:57.859 --> 03:10:04.040
a floppy comb of excess skin, the same sort
of excess skin that is wobbling below his

03:10:04.040 --> 03:10:08.950
chin. And his mouth...it doesn't look like
a mouth anymore. It's pointed, and hard, and

03:10:08.950 --> 03:10:14.180
his lips click together when he speaks, or
rather, clucks. His bare feet are scaly and

03:10:14.180 --> 03:10:18.760
red, with claws protruding from his toes.
He flaps his wings frantically, eyes wide

03:10:18.760 --> 03:10:24.320
and wild, clucking and running back and forth
across the room. When he looks at her, she

03:10:24.320 --> 03:10:29.660
does not see recognition in his gaze. Her
son, her beloved boy, has turned into a chicken.

03:10:29.660 --> 03:10:34.040
Unable to do anything else, the mother calls
an ambulance. At first, the paramedics that

03:10:34.040 --> 03:10:39.020
arrive on the scene think the call was some
sort of elaborate prank, but when they set

03:10:39.020 --> 03:10:43.420
eyes on the boy, they agree that something
truly bizarre is going on. They speed to the

03:10:43.420 --> 03:10:52.570
hospital with the chicken boy in tow, but
sadly are unable to save his life. The mother

03:10:52.570 --> 03:10:59.440
turns over the can of mysterious soup to the
authorities, who launch a formal investigation.

03:10:59.440 --> 03:11:04.420
Unfortunately, they are unable to trace the
can to any store, nor are they able to verify

03:11:04.420 --> 03:11:09.310
the existence of the company name on its label.
Employees of the grocery store where she found

03:11:09.310 --> 03:11:12.930
the can insist that they have never seen it
in their lives.

03:11:12.930 --> 03:11:18.600
Several weeks after this incident occurred,
the SCP Foundation conducted a raid on a New

03:11:18.600 --> 03:11:20.580
York office of Marshall, Carter, and Dark.
For those of you unfamiliar with the organization,

03:11:20.580 --> 03:11:24.649
and that is most of the general population
by design, Marshall, Carter, and Dark, Ltd.

03:11:24.649 --> 03:11:29.550
is an extremely powerful multinational corporation
founded by three individuals with those surnames,

03:11:29.550 --> 03:11:34.910
specializing in the acquisition and sale of
anomalous items, entities, and experiences.

03:11:34.910 --> 03:11:41.410
To put it simply, they run the largest anomalous
black market in the world, and are the crime

03:11:41.410 --> 03:11:43.100
bosses of the paranormal world.

03:11:43.100 --> 03:11:46.819
During this particular raid, SCP Foundation
operatives recovered seventeen different unusual

03:11:46.819 --> 03:11:51.560
items. Among the items discovered was a shipping
crate, recently delivered by the Federal Postal

03:11:51.560 --> 03:11:55.550
Service from an invalid return address. This
crate contained one hundred and three cans

03:11:55.550 --> 03:12:02.520
of SCP-2057, as well as a copy of a letter
written to one of the company's associates.

03:12:02.520 --> 03:12:06.970
So far, the letter has not been traced to
an address. It reads:

03:12:06.970 --> 03:12:07.970
"Dear Cyrus,

03:12:07.970 --> 03:12:13.780
Maria has told me of the unfortunate circumstances
that have befallen your children. I had hoped

03:12:13.780 --> 03:12:18.890
to hear about the improvement of their conditions
soon. As their godfather, I am extremely distressed

03:12:18.890 --> 03:12:24.880
to hear this. Having experienced a child suffering
from the measles myself, I know how terrifying

03:12:24.880 --> 03:12:30.689
it can be when it seems as if they are getting
worse. Recently, we received a shipment of

03:12:30.689 --> 03:12:33.910
something that I hope can help your family.

03:12:33.910 --> 03:12:39.239
There is a crate in the storage area marked
with 'Wondertainment - Discontinued Item.'

03:12:39.239 --> 03:12:50.670
It will not be there long, as it goes to auction
next week. I will leave a key under the photo

03:12:50.670 --> 03:12:56.210
of your family on your desk. Follow the instructions
exactly. Do not, under any circumstances,

03:12:56.210 --> 03:13:02.130
do anything different than what is directed
on the can. Destroy this message as soon as

03:13:02.130 --> 03:13:07.350
possible. I do not want any of this to come
back on us.

03:13:07.350 --> 03:13:08.830
Be careful, my friend.

03:13:08.830 --> 03:13:09.830
~Williams"

03:13:09.830 --> 03:13:14.021
SCP-2057 consists of ninety-two 318 ml cans
of condensed chicken noodle soup. Each can

03:13:14.021 --> 03:13:19.070
is covered with a brightly-colored label depicting
images of noodles, a cartoon chicken, and

03:13:19.070 --> 03:13:23.890
dancing vegetables. In addition to this inviting
imagery, each label is emblazoned with the

03:13:23.890 --> 03:13:28.109
text: "Dr. Wondertainment's Ultralicious Chicken
Noodle Soup For Kids!" Each can has a pull-top

03:13:28.109 --> 03:13:32.460
lid for easy opening, and is printed with
a set of nutrition facts, ingredients, and

03:13:32.460 --> 03:13:33.540
instructions for heating.

03:13:33.540 --> 03:13:38.220
The Nutrition Facts are as follows: Calories,
95, Fat, 3.17g, Carbohydrates, 2.2g, Protein,

03:13:38.220 --> 03:13:45.160
13.48g, Vitamin W, 2.00g, and Mother's Love,
10.00g. The SCP Foundation attempted to analyze

03:13:45.160 --> 03:13:51.770
the contents of the soup in order to compare
it to the posted nutrition facts. The Calories,

03:13:51.770 --> 03:13:57.540
Fat, Carbohydrates, and Protein were found
to be accurately reported. Vitamin W was present

03:13:57.540 --> 03:14:02.890
in the reported amount as well, though it
was not a compound that the Foundation scientists

03:14:02.890 --> 03:14:07.399
had ever encountered before. Mother's Love,
as it is an intangible concept, was not able

03:14:07.399 --> 03:14:11.960
to be identified or measured in the analyzed
soup samples.

03:14:11.960 --> 03:14:16.229
The Ingredients are listed as: "Ultralicious™
chicken stock, enriched Chinese egg noodles,

03:14:16.229 --> 03:14:20.390
finest cooked chicken breast, "farm fresh
carrots, crispy-crunchy celery, sweet Vidalia

03:14:20.390 --> 03:14:25.700
onions, no paint thinner, fresh mountain spring
water, Vitamin W™. Contains less than 2%

03:14:25.700 --> 03:14:30.670
of the following ingredients: a pinch of salt,
a smidgen of chicken fat, sprinkle of spice

03:14:30.670 --> 03:14:33.930
extracted from rare plants, a dash of high-quality
unicorn tears."

03:14:33.930 --> 03:14:39.420
The Instructions for Heating read: "Hey, Kids!
Feeling sick, icky, or downright yucky? Just

03:14:39.420 --> 03:14:44.470
pop open a can of Dr Wondertainment's Ultralicious™
Chicken Noodle Soup For Kids™! Place contents

03:14:44.470 --> 03:14:51.700
of the can in a medium sized soup pot, add
a can of water, stir, and heat! Watch as the

03:14:51.700 --> 03:14:55.779
fun begins! Eat hearty, and you'll feel better
and ready to play with Dr Wondertainment toys

03:14:55.779 --> 03:14:56.779
in no time!"

03:14:56.779 --> 03:15:00.700
All of this is relatively straightforward,
give or take a few unusual ingredients. Someone

03:15:00.700 --> 03:15:06.080
taking only a quick look might mistake a can
of this soup for any other chicken noodle

03:15:06.080 --> 03:15:10.830
soup. However, it does have something that
most ordinary canned soup does not: a warning

03:15:10.830 --> 03:15:11.830
label.

03:15:11.830 --> 03:15:14.010
"Dr Wondertainment's Ultralicious™ Chicken
Noodle Soup For Kids™! is intended to be

03:15:14.010 --> 03:15:18.490
eaten while it is hot, to make you feel better
in no time at all! Do not consume after it

03:15:18.490 --> 03:15:23.199
has become cold. Do not reheat. By purchasing
from Dr. Wondertainment you agree to not hold

03:15:23.199 --> 03:15:27.170
Dr. Wondertainment or any of Dr. Wondertainment's
affiliates accountable for injuries or damages

03:15:27.170 --> 03:15:30.970
incurred by your product. Thank you for purchasing
from Dr. Wondertainment."

03:15:30.970 --> 03:15:37.340
So, what exactly is in a can of Dr. Wondertainment's
Ultralicious Chicken Noodle Soup for Kids?

03:15:37.340 --> 03:15:43.830
Well, when the SCP Foundation first opened
a can to take a look, they found that it was

03:15:43.830 --> 03:15:48.430
filled with condensed chicken broth, and a
mass of egg noodles shaped like an egg. When

03:15:48.430 --> 03:15:54.210
water was added, and the contents of the can
were heated to a temperature of 70 degrees

03:15:54.210 --> 03:15:56.810
Celsius, the noodle-based egg hatched. Inside
was a small domesticated chicken made up of

03:15:56.810 --> 03:15:59.510
egg noodles, carrot, celery, onion, and cooked
chicken breast.

03:15:59.510 --> 03:16:01.532
For simplicity's sake, this chicken noodle
soup chicken is referred to as SCP-2057-1.

03:16:01.532 --> 03:16:05.500
As the Foundation researchers continued to
heat the broth to a higher temperature, SCP-2057-1

03:16:05.500 --> 03:16:09.310
began to move around, make audible chirping
sounds, and eat the broth. As it ate, it grew

03:16:09.310 --> 03:16:11.479
larger and larger until it reached a mass
of 85g, and resembled a miniature adult chicken.

03:16:11.479 --> 03:16:15.180
At a temperature between 35 and 70 degrees
C, SCP-2057-1 behaved much like an ordinary

03:16:15.180 --> 03:16:20.359
chicken. It continued to behave normally even
as it was consumed or cut apart, apparently

03:16:20.359 --> 03:16:24.430
feeling no pain or awareness of its situation.
Dissection of SCP-2057-1 revealed that its

03:16:24.430 --> 03:16:28.850
insides were made up of soup ingredients,
including celery and onion bones, cooked chicken

03:16:28.850 --> 03:16:32.250
breast muscles, carrot beak and legs, and
chicken broth blood.

03:16:32.250 --> 03:16:36.680
When SCP-2057-1's temperature dropped below
35 degrees C, it stopped moving and collapsed

03:16:36.680 --> 03:16:41.229
into the soup. At a temperature below 20 degrees
C, it became congealed and unappetizing. With

03:16:41.229 --> 03:16:44.609
these observations completed, the Foundation
then attempted to measure the effects of this

03:16:44.609 --> 03:16:46.970
unusual chicken soup on a person that ingested
it.

03:16:46.970 --> 03:16:55.320
When test subjects were fed samples of the
soup at a temperature between 35 and 70 degrees

03:16:55.320 --> 03:16:59.740
C, they had a very positive experience. The
soup's taste was described as "excellent,"

03:16:59.740 --> 03:17:04.569
"delicious," and "homey." Though the meal
caused a bit of psychological distress due

03:17:04.569 --> 03:17:09.069
to the soup chicken's realistic appearance
and behavior, it improved every test subject's

03:17:09.069 --> 03:17:13.830
physical well-being. This especially applied
to test subjects with a case of influenza,

03:17:13.830 --> 03:17:17.460
measles, or the common cold. Following consumption
of SCP-2057, each subject with a diagnosed

03:17:17.460 --> 03:17:21.489
illness of this kind reported immediate relief
from their symptoms, including fever, aches

03:17:21.489 --> 03:17:22.979
and pains, cough, and congestion.

03:17:22.979 --> 03:17:27.980
With this positive (if a bit disturbing) effect
documented, the Foundation next set out to

03:17:27.980 --> 03:17:32.380
determine what would happen if they let the
soup get cold before it was eaten. Test subjects

03:17:32.380 --> 03:17:36.880
served this version of the soup had a far
worse experience, describing the taste of

03:17:36.880 --> 03:17:40.489
their meal as "bland," "disgusting," and "repulsive."
67% of the test subjects experienced cramps,

03:17:40.489 --> 03:17:45.680
chills, and diarrhea following their consumption
of the soup, and 62% found themselves making

03:17:45.680 --> 03:17:49.990
involuntary clucking noises, as well as experiencing
a strong aversion to poultry products.

03:17:49.990 --> 03:17:53.250
Again, several test subjects were deliberately
selected based on their cases of influenza,

03:17:53.250 --> 03:17:55.880
measles, and the common cold. These test subjects
immediately began to develop troubling symptoms

03:17:55.880 --> 03:18:00.910
including the growth of pin feathers on their
forearms, loosened excess skin on their heads

03:18:00.910 --> 03:18:07.520
and under their chins, a change in their ability
to walk normally, and distressing hallucinations

03:18:07.520 --> 03:18:09.850
of being hung upside-down by the ankles.

03:18:09.850 --> 03:18:13.750
Following these two rounds of testing, the
research team decided to see why exactly the

03:18:13.750 --> 03:18:17.680
warning label advised against reheating the
soup. D-Class 45782 was selected as the test

03:18:17.680 --> 03:18:21.920
subject for this particular experiment, and
was instructed to reheat a bowl of cooled

03:18:21.920 --> 03:18:25.170
SCP-2057-1 in a microwave on high for two
minutes and thirty seconds. Then, he was to

03:18:25.170 --> 03:18:33.390
consume the reheated soup and report his experience
to a camera placed in the room with him. As

03:18:33.390 --> 03:18:39.130
instructed, D-45782 microwaved the bowl of
soup. As it heated in the microwave, it emitted

03:18:39.130 --> 03:18:41.790
unintelligible vocalizations in a deep voice.

03:18:41.790 --> 03:18:46.480
After removing the bowl from the microwave,
D-45782 noted that it was gelatinous-looking,

03:18:46.480 --> 03:18:51.080
with blackened burnt bits around the edges.
He took three bites of the disgusting, hot-and-cold,

03:18:51.080 --> 03:18:55.489
at the same time mixture before spitting it
out onto the floor and refusing to eat another

03:18:55.489 --> 03:18:59.260
bite. Fifteen minutes after tasting the reheated
soup, D-45872 began to exhibit significant

03:18:59.260 --> 03:19:04.080
distress, clucking angrily into the camera.
Five minutes later, D-45872 became more difficult

03:19:04.080 --> 03:19:07.800
to understand, clucks and other chicken-like
vocalizations making up most of his attempted

03:19:07.800 --> 03:19:08.800
speech.

03:19:08.800 --> 03:19:12.220
He began scratching vigorously at his arms
to the point of drawing blood. Loose skin

03:19:12.220 --> 03:19:17.230
could be seen gathering on the top of his
head and under his neck. Six minutes later,

03:19:17.230 --> 03:19:22.979
D-45872 had lost the ability to speak. Large
white pin feathers had sprouted from his arms,

03:19:22.979 --> 03:19:28.200
covering the skin, and smaller white feathers
were beginning to sprout from his face.

03:19:28.200 --> 03:19:33.050
After sixteen more minutes passed, D-45872
began attacking other objects in the room,

03:19:33.050 --> 03:19:37.710
attempting to destroy the microwave, knocking
the bowl of soup to the floor, and flipping

03:19:37.710 --> 03:19:43.810
over a table and chair. He had grown feathers
over 67% of his skin, and his face had begun

03:19:43.810 --> 03:19:48.359
to change drastically. His nasal area was
elongated and hardened, joining with his lower

03:19:48.359 --> 03:19:53.830
jaw in an appendage resembling a bird's beak.
His upper lip had disappeared into his nasal

03:19:53.830 --> 03:19:58.260
cavity. Only five minutes later, D-45872 suddenly
stopped moving, and collapsed to the floor.

03:19:58.260 --> 03:19:59.260
Dead.

03:19:59.260 --> 03:20:00.439
Following D-45872's death, an autopsy was
performed. These were the findings:

03:20:00.439 --> 03:20:03.630
"Autopsy revealed D-45782's cause of death
was due to extreme and sudden physical change

03:20:03.630 --> 03:20:07.750
of internal organs, resulting in shock and
cardiac arrest. 93% of the subject's skin

03:20:07.750 --> 03:20:11.150
was covered in feathers. Physical changes
in the face resulted in a beak-like alteration

03:20:11.150 --> 03:20:15.770
of the nose and mouth. Loose skin under the
neck and on the top of the head resemble a

03:20:15.770 --> 03:20:19.060
wattle and comb. Subject's lower legs were
found to be covered in thick, scaly skin with

03:20:19.060 --> 03:20:23.250
the toes of the subject's feet ending in small
rounded claws. The subject and instance of

03:20:23.250 --> 03:20:24.561
SCP-2057-1 were incinerated after testing
and autopsy."

03:20:24.561 --> 03:20:28.649
Whenever not being used for approved experimentation,
all cans of SCP-2057 must be stored in a standard

03:20:28.649 --> 03:20:32.149
large-volume storage locker in Containment
Area-27, and kept at a temperature of 25 degrees

03:20:32.149 --> 03:20:35.550
Celsius. Because SCP-2057 is in limited supply,
all experiments must first be approved by

03:20:35.550 --> 03:20:39.830
at least two personnel with 2-1103 clearance,
as well as receiving the go-ahead from Dr.

03:20:39.830 --> 03:20:40.830
Applegate.

03:20:40.830 --> 03:20:43.930
There are still forty-one cans of Dr. Wondertainment's
Chicken Soup unaccounted for, and the Foundation

03:20:43.930 --> 03:20:48.699
has been unable to track them down so far.
Who knows where they ended up? Maybe at another

03:20:48.699 --> 03:20:53.021
office of Marshall, Carter, and Dark. Or maybe,
just maybe, one made its way onto the shelves

03:20:53.021 --> 03:20:58.750
at your local grocery store. Best to be careful
out there. When you're feeling sick, hungry,

03:20:58.750 --> 03:21:01.260
or in need of a little pick-me-up, there's
nothing quite like a steaming hot bowl of

03:21:01.260 --> 03:21:05.020
chicken noodle soup. Just make sure to read
the label carefully, and always follow the

03:21:05.020 --> 03:21:07.420
printed instructions. If you decide to ignore
them, you might just find that your chickens

03:21:07.420 --> 03:21:13.050
have come home to roost. After all, as the
saying goes, you are what you eat.

03:21:13.050 --> 03:21:18.229
A knife in the dark. Bloody teeth. And an
appetite about to bring an end to one of history’s

03:21:18.229 --> 03:21:19.229
most infamous monsters…

03:21:19.229 --> 03:21:23.180
The year is 1888, and the streets of London
are teeming with tension and fear. In the

03:21:23.180 --> 03:21:27.310
daytime, people struggle to find work, fighting
each other tooth and nail for scraps of opportunity.

03:21:27.310 --> 03:21:34.290
The sunlight only serves to illuminate the
grime and misery, the workhouses and the factories,

03:21:34.290 --> 03:21:37.670
the smoke stacks pumping poison into the sky.
At night, though, it's even worse. The gas

03:21:37.670 --> 03:21:41.610
lamps provide only ghostly wisps of dim light,
just enough to see a stranger's shadow from

03:21:41.610 --> 03:21:46.850
the corner of your eye, but not enough to
see if the glint of something shiny in his

03:21:46.850 --> 03:21:48.569
hand is his pocketwatch or his knife.

03:21:48.569 --> 03:21:51.500
You might glance over your shoulder for a
closer look, but he's already disappeared

03:21:51.500 --> 03:21:56.630
into the fog, if he was ever even there at
all. These streets feel haunted even on the

03:21:56.630 --> 03:22:03.910
quietest of nights, but lately, there are
rumors swirling in the air of something far

03:22:03.910 --> 03:22:09.370
worse than a ghost skulking through the alleys.
More real than the devil, more evil than any

03:22:09.370 --> 03:22:14.420
ordinary man, there is a killer on the prowl,
and his name is Jack the Ripper. At first,

03:22:14.420 --> 03:22:19.670
most citizens refused to take notice of his
presence, writing off his victims as women

03:22:19.670 --> 03:22:27.780
of ill-repute, bound to meet a dreadful demise
sooner or later. But as the bodies piled up,

03:22:27.780 --> 03:22:30.170
the sheer brutality of the killings became
impossible to ignore. Now, everyone is on

03:22:30.170 --> 03:22:32.880
edge, particularly if their daily business
takes them to London's East Side, where the

03:22:32.880 --> 03:22:33.880
murders began.

03:22:33.880 --> 03:22:36.450
Once hoped to be a place of opportunity for
those traveling to London from afar to seek

03:22:36.450 --> 03:22:41.529
their fortunes, Whitechapel has become a den
of sin and terror. No one can breathe easy

03:22:41.529 --> 03:22:46.859
here, not until the Ripper is caught, if he
ever is. There are theories, of course. Accused

03:22:46.859 --> 03:22:52.170
noblemen, surgeons, butchers, and doctors.
Whoever the culprit is, one thing is certain:

03:22:52.170 --> 03:22:56.880
he knows his way around a knife. Still, no
one suspect seems to stick, and no one theory

03:22:56.880 --> 03:23:02.090
is compelling enough to lead to an arrest.
Privately, behind locked doors where no policeman

03:23:02.090 --> 03:23:06.020
can hear them whispering, the people of Whitechapel
are beginning to wonder whether the Ripper

03:23:06.020 --> 03:23:10.300
will ever be found. Perhaps this nightmare
won't cease until the streets run red with

03:23:10.300 --> 03:23:11.300
blood.

03:23:11.300 --> 03:23:14.580
But even in the middle of hell on earth, day-to-day
matters must still be attended to. So, even

03:23:14.580 --> 03:23:22.840
as he worries for the lives of his customers
and his own livelihood, the owner of a local

03:23:22.840 --> 03:23:27.529
pub posts a job listing, seeking a new cook.
He doesn't need anything fancy, he can't pay

03:23:27.529 --> 03:23:34.260
for much, just a fellow who knows his way
around a kitchen and can cook up decent enough

03:23:34.260 --> 03:23:39.120
food without accidentally slicing his fingers
off. Still, he's not sure there's anyone out

03:23:39.120 --> 03:23:45.630
there who would be too happy to take a job
so close to Jack the Ripper's domain at the

03:23:45.630 --> 03:23:46.630
moment.

03:23:46.630 --> 03:23:53.150
But the next day, as he comes in to unlock
the doors and set up for the day, he finds

03:23:53.150 --> 03:23:58.590
an applicant waiting for him outside, grinning
ear to ear. He's a massive fellow, towering

03:23:58.590 --> 03:24:02.680
over the pub owner at a height he's never
seen before outside of a circus performer

03:24:02.680 --> 03:24:06.620
on stilts. But he greets the pub owner with
a firm handshake, and follows him inside (though

03:24:06.620 --> 03:24:09.109
he has to hunch a great deal to fit through
the door). It's not as if there's a line of

03:24:09.109 --> 03:24:15.390
applicants out the door, so the pub owner
goes ahead and hires him as the new cook.

03:24:15.390 --> 03:24:18.840
The cook is a Frenchman, but he won't hold
it against him.

03:24:18.840 --> 03:24:24.229
That night, when the pub opens for business,
the new cook gets right to work. From his

03:24:24.229 --> 03:24:31.200
disposition, one would never know he's working
for pennies in a dingy pub in the most dangerous

03:24:31.200 --> 03:24:35.040
part of town. He bustles around the modest
kitchen, chopping meat and singing in a warm,

03:24:35.040 --> 03:24:37.489
loud voice that carries through the whole
building, bringing some much-needed cheer

03:24:37.489 --> 03:24:41.330
to the exhausted customers. Pretty soon, they
get a taste of the new cook's work, mutton

03:24:41.330 --> 03:24:44.460
and potatoes, and juicy meat pies. Whoever
this new worker is, the crowd is pleased to

03:24:44.460 --> 03:24:45.460
have him around.

03:24:45.460 --> 03:24:50.569
The owner does advise the cook to stay in
the kitchen, though. His food and his singing

03:24:50.569 --> 03:24:54.819
may be popular, but his appearance might frighten
the already-skittish regulars. There's plenty

03:24:54.819 --> 03:25:00.189
to be afraid of these days, no need to add
a giant to the mix. When the pub closes up

03:25:00.189 --> 03:25:10.670
for the night, the owner stops for a moment
to chat with his new cook. He can't help but

03:25:10.670 --> 03:25:15.540
be curious about the man, where he came from,
what brought him to London. The cook tells

03:25:15.540 --> 03:25:19.790
him, tearfully, that he was once a soldier
in the French army, but that he lost his military

03:25:19.790 --> 03:25:23.600
career following a tragic accident he refused
to disclose the details of.

03:25:23.600 --> 03:25:29.319
After that, he worked in a circus, then as
a private chef in the home of a wealthy French

03:25:29.319 --> 03:25:32.270
family, until he was thrown out over a forbidden
love affair with his boss's daughter. The

03:25:32.270 --> 03:25:37.141
pub owner isn't sure he believes a word of
it, but he nods along just the same. He asks

03:25:37.141 --> 03:25:44.840
the cook when he first arrived in London.
The first of April, he says. And with that,

03:25:44.840 --> 03:25:48.989
he heads off home, leaving the pub owner alone
with his thoughts, the color draining from

03:25:48.989 --> 03:25:53.760
his face. April first was only two days before
the first Jack the Ripper victim was discovered.

03:25:53.760 --> 03:25:54.760
It couldn't be...could it?

03:25:54.760 --> 03:26:01.730
As the pub owner embarked on his journey home,
he replayed the image of the cook's work that

03:26:01.730 --> 03:26:07.820
night over and over in his mind. The man was
plenty competent with a knife, that was certain.

03:26:07.820 --> 03:26:12.960
He was strong enough to kill quickly, too.
With those hands, he could squeeze the life

03:26:12.960 --> 03:26:18.170
out of someone before they even got the chance
to scream. He could have done it. But why

03:26:18.170 --> 03:26:22.660
would he? He seemed like such a friendly man,
odd though he was. And he was odd, almost

03:26:22.660 --> 03:26:27.399
frightening. He had clearly lied about his
past, as well. What reason could he have for

03:26:27.399 --> 03:26:31.630
doing that, if not to conceal a dark and terrible
secret? The pub owner lies awake all night,

03:26:31.630 --> 03:26:33.529
horrific visions of his new cook keeping him
from sleep.

03:26:33.529 --> 03:26:35.880
The next day, the pub owner's suspicions begin
to fester and grow. He notices things he didn't

03:26:35.880 --> 03:26:38.970
pick up on before, the strange way the cook
always speaks through his teeth, the deft

03:26:38.970 --> 03:26:44.660
way that he handles a butcher knife, slicing
through the cuts of meat that he brings to

03:26:44.660 --> 03:26:51.130
the pub himself. What butcher is he going
to? Where is he finding so much meat in such

03:26:51.130 --> 03:26:53.380
scarce times? The owner shudders at the possibilities.
His customers are starting to take notice

03:26:53.380 --> 03:26:59.200
of his change in attitude, too. They see the
sweat dotting his brow, his furtive glances

03:26:59.200 --> 03:27:03.260
toward the kitchen, and the way his hands
shake when he brings them their plates of

03:27:03.260 --> 03:27:04.260
food.

03:27:04.260 --> 03:27:07.260
Several customers corner the owner and demand
an explanation. These days, they can't let

03:27:07.260 --> 03:27:11.350
any unusual behavior go on for long. Something
sinister could be afoot, after all. The pub

03:27:11.350 --> 03:27:15.640
owner relents and confesses his suspicions
that his newly hired cook might be the Ripper

03:27:15.640 --> 03:27:20.700
himself. Not only that, but he's afraid the
meat he's been preparing might not be sourced

03:27:20.700 --> 03:27:23.859
from any livestock, but from more of the Ripper's
victims.

03:27:23.859 --> 03:27:29.720
It was an unwise choice to admit these fears
to a group of men driven to the edge of reason

03:27:29.720 --> 03:27:37.811
by their own dread, bodies in the streets,
and a bit too much ale. They swarm the kitchen

03:27:37.811 --> 03:27:42.980
to confront the cook and are shocked at the
sight of the behemoth they find there. The

03:27:42.980 --> 03:27:48.410
cook greets them with his usual smile, but
they aren't having any of it. They attack

03:27:48.410 --> 03:27:54.010
him in spite of his intimidating size, pummeling
him with their fists. The cook tries to reason

03:27:54.010 --> 03:27:58.390
with the men, but they are determined to get
an answer out of him, and his previously unfailing

03:27:58.390 --> 03:27:59.390
smile falters.

03:27:59.390 --> 03:28:03.920
He opens his mouth wide, and in a truly shocking
display, gobbles one of the men up in two

03:28:03.920 --> 03:28:08.720
quick bites. He spits out a shoe, and it flies
across the room, hitting another one of the

03:28:08.720 --> 03:28:13.881
men in the face. There is silence for a long
moment, and then...sheer pandemonium. The

03:28:13.881 --> 03:28:18.220
surviving men tear out of the pub, spilling
into the streets in a drunken, panic-stricken

03:28:18.220 --> 03:28:24.160
mob. Wiping his mouth, the cook turns to see
his boss staring at him with wide eyes, frozen

03:28:24.160 --> 03:28:28.620
to the spot in fear. With a polite bow, the
cook gives his resignation, apologizes for

03:28:28.620 --> 03:28:33.330
the disruption, and turns to see himself out.
Meanwhile, the pub patrons are cornering a

03:28:33.330 --> 03:28:38.120
policeman, demanding he follows them to the
location of a giant, man-eating monster who

03:28:38.120 --> 03:28:41.939
they believe to be the Ripper. The policeman
laughs in their faces, and advises them to

03:28:41.939 --> 03:28:44.420
head home and sleep off their drinks before
they get themselves into any more trouble.

03:28:44.420 --> 03:28:49.170
With a full belly, but without a job, and
without anywhere else to go, the cook ducks

03:28:49.170 --> 03:28:55.000
out the door to the pub and begins to stroll
slowly down the dark, dingy streets. Up ahead,

03:28:55.000 --> 03:29:00.480
he sees a woman walking alone. She drops something
on the ground, a small coin purse. She doesn't

03:29:00.480 --> 03:29:02.340
notice it fall, and keeps walking!

03:29:02.340 --> 03:29:07.380
But the cook is very much a gentleman, in
spite of his cannibalistic indiscretion before.

03:29:07.380 --> 03:29:11.090
He hurries over and bends to pick it up. When
he looks back at the woman, he sees a man,

03:29:11.090 --> 03:29:16.390
creeping up behind her. The shadowy man drew
a knife, and lifted his arm, preparing to

03:29:16.390 --> 03:29:22.170
strike. The cook cried out to warn the woman,
and she turned, letting out a bloodcurdling

03:29:22.170 --> 03:29:26.010
scream at the sight of both the would-be killer,
and the giant with blood still dripping from

03:29:26.010 --> 03:29:29.250
his chin. She picked up her skirts and ran
as fast as she could, disappearing down a

03:29:29.250 --> 03:29:35.300
nearby alley and out of sight. The cook still
holds her coin purse in his massive hand,

03:29:35.300 --> 03:29:39.600
but there is no way she will come back to
retrieve it now.

03:29:39.600 --> 03:29:43.819
The man with the knife turns on the cook with
a roar of primal rage. He slashes at the giant

03:29:43.819 --> 03:29:48.660
with his knife, but it merely glances off
of the enormous man's tough skin, not drawing

03:29:48.660 --> 03:29:54.000
so much as a single drop of blood. He tries
again, and again, but fails to make even a

03:29:54.000 --> 03:29:58.810
mark. Frustrated, exhausted, and still a little
bit hungry, the giant grabs hold of the attempted

03:29:58.810 --> 03:30:06.260
killer, lifts him into the air, opens his
mouth wide, and swallows him whole in a single

03:30:06.260 --> 03:30:11.430
gulp. The knife, still stained with the blood
of its previous victims, clatters to the ground.

03:30:11.430 --> 03:30:16.569
The cook sighs, and tucks the coin purse into
his pocket. Then, he continues on his way,

03:30:16.569 --> 03:30:20.721
walking out of London, and on to the next
chapter of his life's grand adventure. He

03:30:20.721 --> 03:30:26.029
has no idea that his climatic meal in Whitechapel
was none other than the infamous Jack the

03:30:26.029 --> 03:30:32.210
Ripper, and the people of London will never
know of the unintentional act of heroism he

03:30:32.210 --> 03:30:36.989
committed that day. They will only remember
the fear, and the sight of a giant devouring

03:30:36.989 --> 03:30:41.880
a man alive. But soon enough, that will fade
from memory, replaced with relief when no

03:30:41.880 --> 03:30:47.380
new victims are found, and then replaced again
with a mystery that will endure for hundreds

03:30:47.380 --> 03:30:48.470
of years.

03:30:48.470 --> 03:30:54.680
Though that cook was no Ripper, he was also,
clearly, no ordinary man. Before they decided

03:30:54.680 --> 03:30:59.410
to drive him out of town, the people of Whitechapel
had, unbeknownst to them, been eating and

03:30:59.410 --> 03:31:00.490
drinking with SCP-082.

03:31:00.490 --> 03:31:05.510
SCP-082 is, according to his genetic makeup,
a perfectly ordinary human. However, one look

03:31:05.510 --> 03:31:10.990
at SCP-082 makes it clear that he is far from
ordinary. Some sort of external process has

03:31:10.990 --> 03:31:16.450
caused him to grow to an enormous size, standing
at eight feet tall, and weighing around 700

03:31:16.450 --> 03:31:22.250
lbs. Foundation researchers are divided in
opinion over the exact cause of SCP-082's

03:31:22.250 --> 03:31:27.770
unique proportions. Some theorize that it
is some sort of mutation, others propose an

03:31:27.770 --> 03:31:34.140
extreme hormone imbalance, some believe it
to be chemical in nature, while others insist

03:31:34.140 --> 03:31:40.939
that only a supernatural force could be responsible
for such a dramatic deviation from the norm.

03:31:40.939 --> 03:31:46.130
Whatever the case may be, SCP-082 is a formidable
and visually impressive specimen.

03:31:46.130 --> 03:31:51.430
His head is bald and slightly pointed, his
chin and jaw are large and round, his nose

03:31:51.430 --> 03:31:57.050
is bulbous, and his eyes are dark and sunken.
His body has a high-fat content but also contains

03:31:57.050 --> 03:32:01.740
notable muscle mass, and his physical strength
should not be discounted. His forearms have

03:32:01.740 --> 03:32:06.930
a circumference of around 28 inches, and his
fists are nearly an entire foot across the

03:32:06.930 --> 03:32:13.399
knuckles. Suffice it to say, he is not the
sort of opponent you would want to come up

03:32:13.399 --> 03:32:18.550
against in a fight, and certainly not someone
to antagonize. Though, medical examinations

03:32:18.550 --> 03:32:20.850
of his body indicate that at least a few likely
ill-fated individuals have tried over the

03:32:20.850 --> 03:32:24.430
years. His skin is covered with scars, and
though his X-rays are difficult to read due

03:32:24.430 --> 03:32:28.950
to the density of muscle tissue, scans have
indicated that there are dozens of bullets

03:32:28.950 --> 03:32:32.479
and several blades, from knives and swords
alike, buried in the man's flesh.

03:32:32.479 --> 03:32:37.949
Clearly, SCP-082 has been through a great
deal of hardship. But you wouldn't know it

03:32:37.949 --> 03:32:43.311
from his disposition! He is gregarious and
polite, with a personality as big as the rest

03:32:43.311 --> 03:32:48.950
of him. Oh, that reminds me, I've been extremely
rude. He has a name, it's Fernand. At least,

03:32:48.950 --> 03:32:50.510
that's what he says. Fernand speaks fluent
French, but is proficient in English as well,

03:32:50.510 --> 03:32:52.170
though he speaks with a heavy accent. Whenever
he does speak, he does so with a smile, talking

03:32:52.170 --> 03:32:54.920
through his tightly-clenched and massive teeth.

03:32:54.920 --> 03:32:56.920
Occasionally, he clenches these teeth so hard
that his gums will begin bleeding from the

03:32:56.920 --> 03:32:58.470
effort. The reason for this is unknown, but
the SCP Foundation considers it "normal behavior"

03:32:58.470 --> 03:32:59.920
for Fernand, whatever that means. I have my
own personal theory regarding Fernand's penchant

03:32:59.920 --> 03:33:01.580
for clenching his teeth, but I won't get into
that just yet. Fernand does occasionally open

03:33:01.580 --> 03:33:03.340
his mouth all the way and separate his teeth,
but only when he is eating or singing.

03:33:03.340 --> 03:33:04.890
He is quite the musical talent, serenading
the SCP Foundation with his takes on well-known

03:33:04.890 --> 03:33:06.229
classical music as well as long-forgotten
drinking songs and the occasional sea shanty.

03:33:06.229 --> 03:33:07.229
He loves to sing while cooking, which he is
permitted to do under strict Foundation supervision.

03:33:07.229 --> 03:33:08.229
He is allowed access to a rudimentary set
of cooking implements whenever he prepares

03:33:08.229 --> 03:33:09.229
his food, including a butcher knife that he
also uses to shave his unusually thick facial

03:33:09.229 --> 03:33:10.229
hair. He is given various ingredients to prepare
on request, with the stipulation that these

03:33:10.229 --> 03:33:11.229
ingredients must not be too expensive, or
human in origin.

03:33:11.229 --> 03:33:12.229
In spite of his off-putting appearance and
tendency to speak through his teeth, Fernand

03:33:12.229 --> 03:33:13.229
is easily one of the more likable anomalies
contained by the Foundation. He doesn't express

03:33:13.229 --> 03:33:14.229
overt hostility like SCP-682, nor does he
attempt to diagnose staff with any sort of

03:33:14.229 --> 03:33:15.229
pestilence like SCP-049. All he seemingly
wants to do is cook, sing, and play dress-up.

03:33:15.229 --> 03:33:16.229
Did I mention his costume trunk yet? Well,
he has one. Some of his favorite outfits include

03:33:16.229 --> 03:33:17.229
a tuxedo, complete with top hat and a monocle,
a military uniform circa the French Revolution,

03:33:17.229 --> 03:33:18.229
a ball gown that comes with an elegant fan
and matching beaded purse, and a clown costume

03:33:18.229 --> 03:33:19.229
that includes a wig and a trick, water-squirting
flower in its pocket. New costume pieces are

03:33:19.229 --> 03:33:20.229
made on request, in order to keep Fernand's
morale high. According to my findings, in-house

03:33:20.229 --> 03:33:21.229
costumers are currently hard at work making
Fernand a detective costume, a chef's hat,

03:33:21.229 --> 03:33:22.229
and a set of footie pajamas. Fernand is an
indisputable charmer, greeting Foundation

03:33:22.229 --> 03:33:23.229
researchers with a wide smile, a joke, and,
more often than not, an invitation to join

03:33:23.229 --> 03:33:24.229
him for dinner. Unfortunately, those same
staff members occasionally find themselves

03:33:24.229 --> 03:33:25.229
on the menu.

03:33:25.229 --> 03:33:26.229
In spite of all his endearing qualities, Fernand
has the unfortunate habit of routinely snapping,

03:33:26.229 --> 03:33:27.229
giving in to his voracious appetite, and eating
his visitors alive. He doesn't intend to do

03:33:27.229 --> 03:33:28.229
so, and frequently expresses regret at his
poor manners. After all, having company for

03:33:28.229 --> 03:33:29.229
dinner doesn't mean you eat your company.
But still, he can't help himself, no matter

03:33:29.229 --> 03:33:30.229
how recent his latest meal was.

03:33:30.229 --> 03:33:31.229
Though I have yet to confirm this hypothesis,
I believe this cannibalistic impulse to devour

03:33:31.229 --> 03:33:32.229
others may be the reason for Fernand's constant
clenching of his teeth. Whether consciously

03:33:32.229 --> 03:33:33.229
or not, I think he is attempting to hold off
on attacking for as long as he can, before

03:33:33.229 --> 03:33:34.229
he inevitably succumbs to the hunger once
more. When his gums bleed, it could be a sign

03:33:34.229 --> 03:33:35.229
that one of his attacks is drawing near. Again,
I have yet to confirm this. But it seems entirely

03:33:35.229 --> 03:33:36.229
possible. It's unlikely that Fernand will
ever be able to verify this for himself, as

03:33:36.229 --> 03:33:37.229
his connection to the truth is tenuous at
best.

03:33:37.229 --> 03:33:38.229
Though he is highly intelligent in terms of
his memory, puzzle-solving skills, and grasp

03:33:38.229 --> 03:33:39.229
of language, Fernand struggles to differentiate
between fact and fiction when consuming media.

03:33:39.229 --> 03:33:40.229
He assumes that any movie or television show
he watches is depicting a real person and

03:33:40.229 --> 03:33:41.229
that any book he reads is essentially a biography.
This doesn't limit his enjoyment of this media.

03:33:41.229 --> 03:33:42.229
On the contrary, he gets a great deal of joy
from watching films and reading books, particularly

03:33:42.229 --> 03:33:43.229
works of fiction revolving around Hannibal
Lecter, who Fernand has described as his "Favorite

03:33:43.229 --> 03:33:44.229
person," and someone he would very much like
to meet one day.

03:33:44.229 --> 03:33:45.229
To make matters even more interesting, Fernand
does understand the concept of lying. He is

03:33:45.229 --> 03:33:46.229
able to identify when someone is lying directly
to him, and also displays signs of being a

03:33:46.229 --> 03:33:47.229
compulsive liar himself, particularly when
it comes to his personal history. Over the

03:33:47.229 --> 03:33:48.229
course of his containment, he has claimed
to be: a vampire, a homunculus, beloved Sesame

03:33:48.229 --> 03:33:49.229
Street character Big Bird, also beloved actor
and wrestler Andre the Giant, Napoleon Bonaparte,

03:33:49.229 --> 03:33:50.229
French comic book character Obelix, the Foundation's
own Dr. Bright, The Incredible Hulk, Alexander

03:33:50.229 --> 03:33:51.229
the Great, Captain Hook, and detective Sherlock
Holmes.

03:33:51.229 --> 03:33:52.229
He has also claimed, at different times and
once on the same day, to be both Dr. Frankenstein

03:33:52.229 --> 03:33:53.229
and Frankenstein's Monster. When called out
directly on these lies, Fernand offers only

03:33:53.229 --> 03:33:56.330
this explanation: "But I only lie when it's
through my teeth!" Which, I have to admit,

03:33:56.330 --> 03:33:57.920
is pretty funny.

03:33:57.920 --> 03:34:03.710
SCP-082, Fernand, is currently contained in
enlarged living quarters in Armed Bio-Containment

03:34:03.710 --> 03:34:09.250
Area-14. As he is unfazed by most standard
weaponry, his cooperation has been ensured

03:34:09.250 --> 03:34:13.450
through deception rather than physical force.
Fernand has been led to believe that he is

03:34:13.450 --> 03:34:17.699
the acting King of France, placed in a secret
palace for his own protection from potential

03:34:17.699 --> 03:34:22.450
assassins. Any personnel that interacts with
Fernand must address him as if he were, in

03:34:22.450 --> 03:34:27.779
fact, the King of France, and any deviation
from the charade is met with swift discipline.

03:34:27.779 --> 03:34:32.270
Any housekeeping done in 082's containment
area must be performed by Class D personnel

03:34:32.270 --> 03:34:36.830
only, as it poses too much of a risk to non-disposable
staff.

03:34:36.830 --> 03:34:41.859
Guards assigned to SCP-082's containment will
receive Level-2 clearance, but are not permitted

03:34:41.859 --> 03:34:47.340
to interact directly with SCP-082, no matter
how friendly he is, no matter how many knock-knock

03:34:47.340 --> 03:34:52.880
jokes he tells them, and no matter how he
tries to entice them into a round of karaoke.

03:34:52.880 --> 03:34:58.020
SCP-082 is a curious mix of congenial and
threatening, a consummate host who loves to

03:34:58.020 --> 03:35:02.609
sing and cook for anyone willing to sit at
his table. He's also strong enough to snap

03:35:02.609 --> 03:35:07.609
a spine in half, and has teeth that can crack
open skulls, a skill that he demonstrates

03:35:07.609 --> 03:35:09.649
with stomach-churning regularity.

03:35:09.649 --> 03:35:15.260
Still, he seems to genuinely enjoy the company
of others, and has an earnest, playful spirit.

03:35:15.260 --> 03:35:21.319
From his giving spirit to his diet, SCP-082
really gives a new meaning to the word, "humanitarian."

03:35:21.319 --> 03:35:25.770
If you ever have the chance to meet him, just
be careful not to let your guard all the way

03:35:25.770 --> 03:35:32.750
down, because there's a fine, fine line between
being his dinner guest, and being his dinner.

03:35:32.750 --> 03:35:36.660
Seeing that shadowy figure coming towards
him makes the Worker turn and run.

03:35:36.660 --> 03:35:40.430
He hasn’t had the time, nor the luxury of
freezing on the spot, or waiting for it to

03:35:40.430 --> 03:35:42.710
get closer so he could get a clearer view.

03:35:42.710 --> 03:35:44.630
He just runs.

03:35:44.630 --> 03:35:48.691
With every pace, every hurried, horrified
step, comes the mental image of the strange

03:35:48.691 --> 03:35:50.630
figure gaining on him.

03:35:50.630 --> 03:35:54.960
In his head, every movement he catches in
the corner of his eye, every shuffling sound

03:35:54.960 --> 03:36:00.220
he detects, the… thing was right behind
him, inches away and ready to strike.

03:36:00.220 --> 03:36:03.030
So, he just keeps on running.

03:36:03.030 --> 03:36:05.930
Only seconds ago, it was just standing under
a streetlight.

03:36:05.930 --> 03:36:08.330
A ways ahead of the Worker, barely moving.

03:36:08.330 --> 03:36:12.690
He calls out to it, assuming it’s a person,
somebody maybe lost or in need of help.

03:36:12.690 --> 03:36:14.729
But then, it steps into the light.

03:36:14.729 --> 03:36:17.489
And it’s not a person at all.

03:36:17.489 --> 03:36:21.310
The head of the suit isn’t on properly,
it droops at an angle, like it hasn’t been

03:36:21.310 --> 03:36:23.590
affixed… or is barely hanging on.

03:36:23.590 --> 03:36:28.830
The crude, lazy-eyed face is haphazardly drooping;
that, too, isn’t on right, as the entire

03:36:28.830 --> 03:36:32.189
head sways unnervingly with each approaching
step.

03:36:32.189 --> 03:36:36.319
Maybe underneath the suit, hiding beneath
all that dirty orange fir, still coated in

03:36:36.319 --> 03:36:38.400
grime despite the rain.

03:36:38.400 --> 03:36:42.620
Perhaps there is a person in there, whose
arm hefts an old baseball bat as they plod

03:36:42.620 --> 03:36:44.640
closer and closer to the Worker.

03:36:44.640 --> 03:36:47.910
But all he sees is the monster.

03:36:47.910 --> 03:36:52.859
The filthy costume might be clumsily made,
but the Worker instantly recognizes the all-too-familiar

03:36:52.859 --> 03:36:55.760
resemblance of an orange cat from a popular
comic strip.

03:36:55.760 --> 03:37:00.460
It’s what starts him running… that and
the blunt weapon the monster is holding as

03:37:00.460 --> 03:37:02.570
it menacingly makes its way closer.

03:37:02.570 --> 03:37:06.739
The downpour doesn’t let up as the Worker
turns a corner, met with the sights of two

03:37:06.739 --> 03:37:09.439
bright, blinding white beams of light cutting
through the rain.

03:37:09.439 --> 03:37:11.720
A car, speeding its way down the road.

03:37:11.720 --> 03:37:15.620
It catches the Worker in its headlights, and
he starts frantically waving his arms, encased

03:37:15.620 --> 03:37:17.430
in the sodden fabric of his jacket.

03:37:17.430 --> 03:37:18.430
“Help!

03:37:18.430 --> 03:37:19.430
Oh, please!

03:37:19.430 --> 03:37:20.960
Please help me!” he yells.

03:37:20.960 --> 03:37:22.230
“Something’s coming after me!

03:37:22.230 --> 03:37:24.350
I think it’s trying to kill me!”

03:37:24.350 --> 03:37:27.569
The driver doesn’t stop, instead simply
cruising past.

03:37:27.569 --> 03:37:31.320
The worker can just about see, through the
passenger side window, the vehicle’s sole

03:37:31.320 --> 03:37:35.420
occupant giving him a strange look from inside
the safety of his car.

03:37:35.420 --> 03:37:39.600
Almost as quickly as it appears, the car has
driven off, its headlights already fading

03:37:39.600 --> 03:37:41.390
from view thanks to the rain.

03:37:41.390 --> 03:37:45.410
What the Worker doesn’t realize is that
the driver’s look of confusion wasn’t

03:37:45.410 --> 03:37:48.510
directed at him… but at the thing following
him.

03:37:48.510 --> 03:37:53.029
The creature gives a low, animalistic sound,
which causes the Worker to spin around.

03:37:53.029 --> 03:37:56.870
Now he sees it, right up close in all its
foul, ginger glory.

03:37:56.870 --> 03:38:01.399
A tail dangles lazily from the lower portion
of the suit, trailing in puddles laden with

03:38:01.399 --> 03:38:04.899
muck, the water making the fur even dirtier
than it already is.

03:38:04.899 --> 03:38:10.130
It’s so close that the awful, pungent stench
of the thing hits the Worker’s nostrils,

03:38:10.130 --> 03:38:16.010
a sickening smell that somehow seems to fit
with the grim, gross costume and its wearer.

03:38:16.010 --> 03:38:20.689
Seeing the wet, fur-coated suit so close,
he realizes that it isn’t covered in the

03:38:20.689 --> 03:38:24.710
soft, plush synthetic coat that he expects
a costume like that to be made of.

03:38:24.710 --> 03:38:30.160
It looks real, like actual cat hair, on a
huge, humanoid shape, with the legs and arms

03:38:30.160 --> 03:38:31.560
of a man.

03:38:31.560 --> 03:38:35.880
Arms that were midway through swinging a baseball
bat right at the Worker’s head.

03:38:35.880 --> 03:38:40.410
He ducks just in time, the dull, wooden bat
glancing off the bricks of a nearby building,

03:38:40.410 --> 03:38:42.360
narrowly missing the Worker’s head.

03:38:42.360 --> 03:38:46.100
As it bounces off the wall, the blunt weapon
slips from the soggy gloves of the suit and

03:38:46.100 --> 03:38:47.640
clatters to the ground.

03:38:47.640 --> 03:38:52.340
The second he hears the wooden bat land on
the floor, the Worker turns his heel and runs

03:38:52.340 --> 03:38:55.920
again, taking advantage of those precious
few seconds to get further distance between

03:38:55.920 --> 03:38:57.189
him and his attacker.

03:38:57.189 --> 03:39:01.250
It’s only exactly as he turns his back that
he wishes he’d reached for the bat himself

03:39:01.250 --> 03:39:02.910
to fight back.

03:39:02.910 --> 03:39:06.949
Rushing further down the rainswept street,
the Worker can hear the heavy, slumping footsteps

03:39:06.949 --> 03:39:08.910
of the suited attacker giving chase.

03:39:08.910 --> 03:39:12.319
He alternates between looking straight ahead,
the raindrops streaming down his face and

03:39:12.319 --> 03:39:16.040
getting into his eyes, and daring to glance
back over his shoulder.

03:39:16.040 --> 03:39:20.030
Every time he does, he’s met again with
the horrifying sight of the suit behind him.

03:39:20.030 --> 03:39:24.120
He wants nothing more than to escape, to get
out of this nightmare wherein he is soaked

03:39:24.120 --> 03:39:28.640
head to toe in rainwater and fear, running
for his life from someone dressed as the comic

03:39:28.640 --> 03:39:30.700
strip cat he sees every day.

03:39:30.700 --> 03:39:34.920
But as strong as his will to escape is, he
can’t bear to let the fur-suited pursuer

03:39:34.920 --> 03:39:36.550
out of his sight for even a second.

03:39:36.550 --> 03:39:39.590
If he can’t see it, then it might be anywhere.

03:39:39.590 --> 03:39:42.979
At least looking told him that it was still
right behind him, bearing down on the Worker

03:39:42.979 --> 03:39:45.680
with its bat now firmly back in hand.

03:39:45.680 --> 03:39:49.920
The shrill noise of chainlinks rattling sounds
behind him, as the attacker in the suit starts

03:39:49.920 --> 03:39:54.520
striking a nearby fence, making the Worker
more and more aware that, with every strike,

03:39:54.520 --> 03:39:55.520
it’s getting closer…

03:39:55.520 --> 03:39:59.840
Through the relentless downpour, the Worker
spots a shape standing on the sidewalk, just

03:39:59.840 --> 03:40:01.050
a few feet ahead.

03:40:01.050 --> 03:40:05.470
Short, stationary, something he sees every
day of his life but never pays any notice

03:40:05.470 --> 03:40:06.470
to.

03:40:06.470 --> 03:40:10.640
But tonight, it might just be the thing that
saves his life: a trash can.

03:40:10.640 --> 03:40:15.680
It’s full, and that means heavy, and any
second now, he’ll be close enough to reach

03:40:15.680 --> 03:40:16.680
it.

03:40:16.680 --> 03:40:21.229
A plan forms in seconds, erupting like a fire
with gasoline thrown on it - if that gasoline

03:40:21.229 --> 03:40:26.420
was pure, terrified adrenaline of being chased
by someone in an orange cat costume.

03:40:26.420 --> 03:40:30.689
Reaching out, as soon as his fingertips grip
the wet metal rim of the can, the Worker pulls

03:40:30.689 --> 03:40:34.670
as hard as possible, his instincts keeping
him from stopping running.

03:40:34.670 --> 03:40:38.780
The trash can clatters behind him as he passes,
followed by the heavy thud of the attacker

03:40:38.780 --> 03:40:43.649
falling to the ground as it trips over the
obstacle and lands furry head first in the

03:40:43.649 --> 03:40:45.990
garbage now strewn over the sidewalk.

03:40:45.990 --> 03:40:49.660
The Worker knows he’s only got another short
window, another blessing of a precious few

03:40:49.660 --> 03:40:52.149
seconds to get far enough away from his attacker.

03:40:52.149 --> 03:40:56.550
He turns, changing course to rush across the
street; there’s an old warehouse over there.

03:40:56.550 --> 03:40:59.340
If there are security guards working, they
might be able to help.

03:40:59.340 --> 03:41:03.199
If not, and the place is unguarded, then at
least it could be somewhere to hide.

03:41:03.199 --> 03:41:07.270
A sudden, blaring noise pierces the Worker’s
eardrums before he can make it all the way

03:41:07.270 --> 03:41:08.420
to the opposite sidewalk.

03:41:08.420 --> 03:41:12.569
It’s a horn, coupled with a bright pair
of lights appearing as if from nowhere.

03:41:12.569 --> 03:41:15.480
Then, before he can turn to see it coming…

03:41:15.480 --> 03:41:16.480
Impact.

03:41:16.480 --> 03:41:20.149
First, against the hood of the car, speeding
through the rain towards him, unable to stop

03:41:20.149 --> 03:41:21.149
in enough time.

03:41:21.149 --> 03:41:26.040
Next, the pain of hitting the jagged blacktop
of the road, the second impact as the Worker

03:41:26.040 --> 03:41:30.800
lands a few feet away, spots of rain still
pattering against his face as everything goes

03:41:30.800 --> 03:41:33.670
from dark to pitch black for a few seconds.

03:41:33.670 --> 03:41:37.689
His head floods with scenes from earlier that
day, as if his life was about to start flashing

03:41:37.689 --> 03:41:40.330
before his eyes - only in reverse.

03:41:40.330 --> 03:41:44.699
The news of the comic strip doing poorly arrives
at the Paws Inc office, and with it, the knowledge

03:41:44.699 --> 03:41:47.900
that - if there are going to be layoffs - then
he’ll be first.

03:41:47.900 --> 03:41:49.739
He’s the new hire, after all.

03:41:49.739 --> 03:41:53.970
It didn’t matter that the once-beloved comic
of a cartoon cat is losing its popularity,

03:41:53.970 --> 03:41:56.279
going stale after so many years in print.

03:41:56.279 --> 03:42:00.159
It upset the investors, and the Worker has
been worrying all day if he’d be the one

03:42:00.159 --> 03:42:02.180
fired to appease them.

03:42:02.180 --> 03:42:05.140
Until he suddenly remembers what’s coming
after him.

03:42:05.140 --> 03:42:09.000
Fighting back and clawing his way back to
consciousness, he struggles back to his feet,

03:42:09.000 --> 03:42:10.000
screaming with pain.

03:42:10.000 --> 03:42:13.990
He’s injured, that much he can certainly
tell, even if he doesn’t know how badly.

03:42:13.990 --> 03:42:15.320
“Hey, hey, mister!”

03:42:15.320 --> 03:42:18.680
the driver calls, stopping his car and starting
to climb out of the vehicle.

03:42:18.680 --> 03:42:22.670
It’s a different driver and car this time,
and unlike the first, he makes the effort

03:42:22.670 --> 03:42:26.449
to stop… a mistake that is about to cost
him greatly.

03:42:26.449 --> 03:42:29.160
He sees the Worker getting back up, ignoring
his calls.

03:42:29.160 --> 03:42:31.920
He raises his voice to cut through the noise
of the pouring rain.

03:42:31.920 --> 03:42:32.920
“Hey!

03:42:32.920 --> 03:42:33.920
Are you okay?

03:42:33.920 --> 03:42:35.080
I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you!

03:42:35.080 --> 03:42:38.670
My lights were on low, wipers were going,
it wasn’t until you rushed out across the

03:42:38.670 --> 03:42:39.670
street that…

03:42:39.670 --> 03:42:41.979
Anyway, look, let me at least get you to a
hospital!

03:42:41.979 --> 03:42:45.210
We can exchange our insurance information
once they get you all patched up!”

03:42:45.210 --> 03:42:46.460
The Worker wasn’t listening.

03:42:46.460 --> 03:42:50.320
He hears the driver’s words but pays him
no mind; he’s still so intent on getting

03:42:50.320 --> 03:42:52.420
away that it takes him a second to realize.

03:42:52.420 --> 03:42:53.420
The car.

03:42:53.420 --> 03:42:55.280
It’s a way out.

03:42:55.280 --> 03:43:00.710
And then, the Worker makes the same mistake
as the driver… he stops.

03:43:00.710 --> 03:43:05.200
And when he does, he sees what has clambered
back to its fur-coated feet and is now shuffling

03:43:05.200 --> 03:43:06.450
towards the driver.

03:43:06.450 --> 03:43:07.450
“Look out!”

03:43:07.450 --> 03:43:08.550
the Worker yells.

03:43:08.550 --> 03:43:10.890
The driver turns, just in time to see.

03:43:10.890 --> 03:43:12.790
“What in the hell?” he exclaims.

03:43:12.790 --> 03:43:15.990
“Wait a minute, why are you dressed in a
Garfield costume?”

03:43:15.990 --> 03:43:16.990
Whack.

03:43:16.990 --> 03:43:20.310
The sound of the bat being swung at the driver
makes the Worker feel sick.

03:43:20.310 --> 03:43:24.409
He turns his back and moves as quickly as
he can towards the warehouse, despite the

03:43:24.409 --> 03:43:27.390
pain and the horrified screams coming from
behind.

03:43:27.390 --> 03:43:32.450
Beneath the rain, there’s something else;
a twisted, vile squelching noise that quickly

03:43:32.450 --> 03:43:35.010
snuffs out the driver’s dying cries.

03:43:35.010 --> 03:43:37.090
The Worker doesn’t dare to look back this
time.

03:43:37.090 --> 03:43:39.470
He doesn’t want to see what’s happening.

03:43:39.470 --> 03:43:43.040
Lifting a heavy metal shutter, and pulling
it shut behind him, he finds himself in the

03:43:43.040 --> 03:43:44.040
warehouse.

03:43:44.040 --> 03:43:45.159
It’s completely deserted.

03:43:45.159 --> 03:43:47.120
There isn’t a single sign of any life anywhere.

03:43:47.120 --> 03:43:51.010
The only sound is the pattering of rainwater
against the hard concrete floor, dripping

03:43:51.010 --> 03:43:52.270
through a hole in the ceiling.

03:43:52.270 --> 03:43:56.590
Guided by the low, glowing light of the streetlamps
outside that bleeds through the warehouse

03:43:56.590 --> 03:44:00.670
windows, the Worker starts fumbling around
for a place to hide.

03:44:00.670 --> 03:44:04.729
Just as he crawls underneath a large pallet
rack, he hears a metallic rattling as the

03:44:04.729 --> 03:44:07.390
fur-suited monstrosity lifts up the shutter.

03:44:07.390 --> 03:44:08.780
It’s inside.

03:44:08.780 --> 03:44:13.370
With heavy, plodding steps in its suit, it
paces up and down the aisles of discarded

03:44:13.370 --> 03:44:14.480
shelving.

03:44:14.480 --> 03:44:19.180
The Worker clamps his soaked hands against
his mouth, trying to mask his panicked breathing…

03:44:19.180 --> 03:44:23.040
only to let out a scream as he feels something
grab his ankle and pull.

03:44:23.040 --> 03:44:27.779
With ease, the thing dressed as a disheveled
Garfield pulls him out of his hiding place.

03:44:27.779 --> 03:44:31.750
Instinctively, the Worker thrashes his legs,
landing a solid kick to the creature.

03:44:31.750 --> 03:44:35.990
As his foot connects, he notices it doesn’t
feel like a person underneath the suit.

03:44:35.990 --> 03:44:40.550
There’s no body, no familiar outline of
a human being beneath all the soggy fur and

03:44:40.550 --> 03:44:41.550
stench.

03:44:41.550 --> 03:44:42.949
It’s just a slimy mass.

03:44:42.949 --> 03:44:48.590
Nonetheless, the kick knocks the garish Garfield
back - only a few paces, but better than nothing.

03:44:48.590 --> 03:44:52.880
He scrabbles to his feet, standing and running
as fast as he can in the opposite direction…

03:44:52.880 --> 03:44:55.420
only to hit a wall at the far side of the
warehouse.

03:44:55.420 --> 03:44:59.899
The shutter is the only way out, and right
now, it’s wide open - but Garfield stands

03:44:59.899 --> 03:45:02.100
between the Worker and freedom.

03:45:02.100 --> 03:45:06.170
He turns to dart down the next aisle, between
the rows of shelves, keeping his eyes on the

03:45:06.170 --> 03:45:09.149
attacker as he passes underneath the hole
in the ceiling.

03:45:09.149 --> 03:45:13.140
The rain is still coming down through it,
leaving a puddle on the floor…

03:45:13.140 --> 03:45:15.130
The Worker’s focus is locked on the beast.

03:45:15.130 --> 03:45:18.720
He suddenly feels his foot slipping out from
under him, that awful lurch of his heart as

03:45:18.720 --> 03:45:20.479
he falls.

03:45:20.479 --> 03:45:23.940
The puddle, he’s slipped over and come crashing
down to the ground, the force of the concrete

03:45:23.940 --> 03:45:27.400
striking his back knocks all the breath from
his lungs.

03:45:27.400 --> 03:45:31.689
Everything is spinning in a nauseating mix
of pain, disorientation, and terror.

03:45:31.689 --> 03:45:35.960
Above, through the unrepaired ceiling, drops
of rain come pouring down on him.

03:45:35.960 --> 03:45:40.040
Then, a low agonized meow from somewhere nearby.

03:45:40.040 --> 03:45:45.630
The monster, Garfield, brings its bat swinging
down and sharply connecting with the Worker,

03:45:45.630 --> 03:45:46.859
lying on the ground.

03:45:46.859 --> 03:45:50.860
A new surge of pain wracks his body, right
at the hip where the baseball bat just landed

03:45:50.860 --> 03:45:52.729
in an unforgiving blow.

03:45:52.729 --> 03:45:56.260
The Worker can do nothing but scream; in pain
and fear.

03:45:56.260 --> 03:46:01.109
A horrible sound, like something wet tearing,
fills his ears over his own cries.

03:46:01.109 --> 03:46:05.720
He remembers the sickening feeling of a slimy
mass being aggressively pushed into his face.

03:46:05.720 --> 03:46:10.820
It’s disgusting, rancid, but even under
all the horror and the repulsive taste, he

03:46:10.820 --> 03:46:13.090
can detect familiar hints.

03:46:13.090 --> 03:46:18.819
, beef, tomato sauce, cheese; all of it moldy
and rotten, but still recognizable.

03:46:18.819 --> 03:46:26.239
The monstrous SCP-3166 forces further fistfuls
of lasagna down the Worker’s throat until

03:46:26.239 --> 03:46:27.580
the screaming stops.

03:46:27.580 --> 03:46:31.021
He’d always hated Mondays.

03:46:31.021 --> 03:46:36.781
The Trucker tumbles to the greasy floor of
the Diner, thrown out of his booth, only to

03:46:36.781 --> 03:46:41.840
come crashing down before he can regain his
footing. He’d be climbing back to his feet,

03:46:41.840 --> 03:46:46.310
ready to square up to the Patron who has just
hurled him, but staring up at them has made

03:46:46.310 --> 03:46:51.620
him freeze on the spot. As he lies on the
Diner floor, the Trucker’s eyes lock onto

03:46:51.620 --> 03:46:55.090
the bizarre horror towering over him.

03:46:55.090 --> 03:47:00.189
It looks like a huge fleshy mess, more akin
to a chewed-up wad of gum than a living being.

03:47:00.189 --> 03:47:04.250
It’s nearly impossible to differentiate
what parts of its head are facial features,

03:47:04.250 --> 03:47:08.680
is the mouth right there in the center, or
is it one of the various other strange and

03:47:08.680 --> 03:47:14.260
inexplicable orifices? Does it even have a
mouth? And where are its eyes - does it have

03:47:14.260 --> 03:47:19.659
the standard human two, or does it see by
smelling sounds or tasting the air? And are

03:47:19.659 --> 03:47:22.750
those… tusks? They are!

03:47:22.750 --> 03:47:27.020
The Trucker has only stopped off for a hot
cup of coffee and a bite to eat. Now he’s

03:47:27.020 --> 03:47:30.930
facing off against a puzzling creature ripped
straight out of a David Cronenberg movie!

03:47:30.930 --> 03:47:36.140
But then again, that’s what he gets for
stopping off at Freddy’s Diner.

03:47:36.140 --> 03:47:40.660
It all begins a few moments prior. The Trucker
is at the wheel, exhausted but making good

03:47:40.660 --> 03:47:45.439
time on a long haul across the interstate.
Thanks to life on the road, he’s been lucky

03:47:45.439 --> 03:47:49.640
enough to see much more of the country than
most, driving from the West Coast to the East

03:47:49.640 --> 03:47:54.620
Coast and back again plenty of times. And
being so familiar with his routes, the Trucker

03:47:54.620 --> 03:48:00.090
has his very own curated list of the best
places to eat while on the road. He double-checks

03:48:00.090 --> 03:48:05.279
the time, and realizes he’s got plenty to
spare, so decides to make a quick detour and

03:48:05.279 --> 03:48:09.630
heads towards a little-known roadside restaurant:
Freddy’s Diner.

03:48:09.630 --> 03:48:13.500
The Trucker still remembers the previous time
he took a pit stop in Freddy’s place. It

03:48:13.500 --> 03:48:18.090
never ceases to amaze him that it even exists.
After all, there’s not another diner like

03:48:18.090 --> 03:48:23.130
it from here in California to the truck stops
over in New Jersey. And the Trucker knows

03:48:23.130 --> 03:48:28.130
he’d pick Freddy’s Diner over any maritime-themed
novelty seafood place - he likes going there

03:48:28.130 --> 03:48:32.470
so much, he’s even kept it a secret from
his fellow truckers on the road. He’d simply

03:48:32.470 --> 03:48:36.720
hate for everyone to start piling over there
and turning his favorite spot into a rowdy

03:48:36.720 --> 03:48:41.570
trucker hangout or tourist attraction. Pulling
his truck up outside, the Trucker locks the

03:48:41.570 --> 03:48:44.100
vehicle up securely and heads inside.

03:48:44.100 --> 03:48:49.420
From outside, it’s just a calm, quiet-seeming
place, a diner like any other in that stereotypical

03:48:49.420 --> 03:48:54.340
1950s style. That’s part of what the Trucker
likes so much about Freddy’s, it’s got

03:48:54.340 --> 03:48:58.500
that comforting, nostalgic feeling to it.
Like one of the few remaining vestiges of

03:48:58.500 --> 03:49:03.020
an era that nearly nobody alive remembers
anymore, except from seeing it secondhand

03:49:03.020 --> 03:49:08.210
in old movies. But despite it looking quiet,
practically empty from the outside, stepping

03:49:08.210 --> 03:49:12.920
through the doors at Freddy’s is like setting
foot on another planet. The entrance isn’t

03:49:12.920 --> 03:49:17.130
just the way into the restaurant, it’s the
access point to the Trucker’s other favorite

03:49:17.130 --> 03:49:19.689
part about visiting there: the people.

03:49:19.689 --> 03:49:25.010
At first, it seems normal, there’s always
a decent number of customers bustling about,

03:49:25.010 --> 03:49:29.510
talking to each other or ordering from Freddy,
the friendly, silver-haired old owner, dressed

03:49:29.510 --> 03:49:34.660
in his typical pinstriped apron over a shirt
and bowtie. No matter if he’s in the middle

03:49:34.660 --> 03:49:39.630
of serving a customer, Freddy always turns
to greet the newest arrival with a warm smile

03:49:39.630 --> 03:49:40.920
and his classic motto:

03:49:40.920 --> 03:49:46.600
“Welcome to Freddy's Diner, the only place
where you can eat cuisine that's out of your

03:49:46.600 --> 03:49:47.600
world!”

03:49:47.600 --> 03:49:51.380
The Trucker loves how gradually it creeps
up on him. Taking a cursory glance around

03:49:51.380 --> 03:49:57.050
the diner, nothing seems all that out of the
ordinary. But looking closer, he enjoys noticing

03:49:57.050 --> 03:50:02.750
the other patrons and how… eccentric they
all seem. When taking a gamble on Freddy’s

03:50:02.750 --> 03:50:07.029
and making his first ever visit on another
long drive to California, the Trucker finds

03:50:07.029 --> 03:50:12.010
himself convinced that there must be some
kind of science fiction or comic book convention

03:50:12.010 --> 03:50:16.899
in town. Then soon after, he starts to get
a little worried, thinking that maybe he’s

03:50:16.899 --> 03:50:21.540
been on the road too long and is starting
to see hallucinations out of pure exhaustion.

03:50:21.540 --> 03:50:26.439
But now, he’s been in enough times to know
the folks who pitch up to eat at Freddy’s

03:50:26.439 --> 03:50:30.979
Diner… well, the best way to put it is that
they’re from out of town.

03:50:30.979 --> 03:50:35.170
Wandering past the bar, looking for somewhere
to sit down. the Trucker notices a trio of

03:50:35.170 --> 03:50:39.319
figures sitting down and enjoying plates full
of freshly grilled burgers and baskets of

03:50:39.319 --> 03:50:43.870
golden fries hot from the fryer. What does
it matter that all three are wearing huge,

03:50:43.870 --> 03:50:48.680
bulky space suits, with metal piping snaking
down them, and vents hissing out warm steam?

03:50:48.680 --> 03:50:51.170
They’re just enjoying their meals, after
all.

03:50:51.170 --> 03:50:54.870
The Trucker finds a vacant booth and sits
down on the comfortable leather seat, scanning

03:50:54.870 --> 03:50:59.710
the diner for Freddy so he can order a coffee.
Sitting across from him at the opposite booth,

03:50:59.710 --> 03:51:04.490
his eyes fall across a couple, smiling and
giggling to each other as they chat. He’s

03:51:04.490 --> 03:51:09.140
so caught up in their infectious positive
vibes that he barely realizes how one of them

03:51:09.140 --> 03:51:13.870
has had her entire right arm replaced with
an intricate cybernetic one, or that the other

03:51:13.870 --> 03:51:18.949
is entirely blue and has pointed ears. It’s
just nice seeing how happy they are!

03:51:18.949 --> 03:51:24.360
That’s when a voice that sounds like someone
gargling water chimes up, and a sinewy tentacle

03:51:24.360 --> 03:51:26.140
grabs the Trucker by his flannel shirt.

03:51:26.140 --> 03:51:31.340
“Hey, what the hell do you think you’re
doing?” the Patron gurgles. “I get up

03:51:31.340 --> 03:51:38.569
to use the bathroom for five minutes and find
some chump in my seat? That’s my table,

03:51:38.569 --> 03:51:39.569
pipsqueak!”

03:51:39.569 --> 03:51:42.640
Moments later, the Trucker is on the floor,
looking up at a creature he’s never seen

03:51:42.640 --> 03:51:48.960
before. In fact, he’s not even sure if the
Patron is human. Judging by the chewing gum

03:51:48.960 --> 03:51:53.740
head and the disproportionate limbs protruding
from random points across its blobby body,

03:51:53.740 --> 03:51:58.560
it’s a safe bet that it isn’t. The Trucker
stumbles towards the bar, and asks Freddy

03:51:58.560 --> 03:52:03.370
for a cup of coffee - a strong one, to wake
him up in case he’s dreaming. Across his

03:52:03.370 --> 03:52:07.819
visits to the diner, he’s been convinced
that all the flamboyant and eccentrically

03:52:07.819 --> 03:52:13.010
dressed customers are all just wearing costumes,
either for a local convention or because of

03:52:13.010 --> 03:52:17.850
an anything goes dress code. But after seeing
the Patron, the Trucker’s starting to think

03:52:17.850 --> 03:52:21.649
that he might’ve been very, very wrong about
this place.

03:52:21.649 --> 03:52:26.489
Not to be confused with a certain pizzeria
populated with quirky animatronic characters,

03:52:26.489 --> 03:52:31.649
Freddy’s Diner is a restaurant experience
like no other. But if you’re hoping to experience

03:52:31.649 --> 03:52:35.800
its comfort food and unique atmosphere for
yourself, then you might have a hard time

03:52:35.800 --> 03:52:41.350
getting past the quarantine zone that now
surrounds the diner, thanks to the SCP Foundation.

03:52:41.350 --> 03:52:45.271
Technically, Freddy’s Diner is still very
much in business, although you’re not likely

03:52:45.271 --> 03:52:50.229
to see anyone stepping through or out of the
front doors any time soon. Well, not from

03:52:50.229 --> 03:52:52.470
this dimension, at least.

03:52:52.470 --> 03:52:57.510
Before it would go on to be known as SCP-4258,
the SCP Foundation learns of this seemingly

03:52:57.510 --> 03:53:02.770
innocuous restaurant two months after it first
appears. To begin, none of the people that

03:53:02.770 --> 03:53:07.201
live in the nearby area pay the place much
mind. As far as they know, Freddy’s Diner

03:53:07.201 --> 03:53:12.080
is just a harmless, fifties themed diner.
Each and every one of them remains totally

03:53:12.080 --> 03:53:17.350
unaware that their memories have been tampered
with, so that as far as they’re concerned,

03:53:17.350 --> 03:53:21.960
SCP-4258 feels like it’s always been a local
staple, despite only having been around for

03:53:21.960 --> 03:53:27.220
a few short months. However, some new folks
roll into town, and pretty soon, the Foundation

03:53:27.220 --> 03:53:32.229
are getting rather suspicious about Freddy’s
Diner, thanks to abundant reports of a “strange

03:53:32.229 --> 03:53:35.439
restaurant with weird cosplayers” from the
newcomers.

03:53:35.439 --> 03:53:40.370
They send in an undercover Agent to investigate,
making sure to be as subtle as possible. After

03:53:40.370 --> 03:53:45.220
all, at this point there’s still every possibility
that Freddy’s Diner really is just a hot

03:53:45.220 --> 03:53:50.199
spot for cosplayers and other eccentrically
dressed individuals. But if only things were

03:53:50.199 --> 03:53:55.540
that simple. Inside, the Agent is greeted
by familiar, nostalgic surroundings. Circular

03:53:55.540 --> 03:54:00.360
seated bar stools, black and white tiled floors
like a chessboard underfoot, a jukebox in

03:54:00.360 --> 03:54:04.890
one corner blaring out hits from the likes
of Chuck Berry and Elvis Presley. Even the

03:54:04.890 --> 03:54:10.360
menu has all the old classics on there; thick,
frothy milkshakes served in tall glasses,

03:54:10.360 --> 03:54:15.600
freshly made burgers and fries, the kind of
food that fits the atmosphere of the 1950s.

03:54:15.600 --> 03:54:20.510
The thing that doesn’t, of course, is the
various unusual customers that frequently

03:54:20.510 --> 03:54:22.600
eat at Freddy’s Diner.

03:54:22.600 --> 03:54:27.330
Even without his extensive training in identifying
anomalies, it doesn’t take the Foundation’s

03:54:27.330 --> 03:54:32.170
Agent very long to realize that some of the
people enjoying their meals inside SCP-4258

03:54:32.170 --> 03:54:37.800
aren’t all human. Some are, in fact, most
of them do still resemble something close

03:54:37.800 --> 03:54:43.060
to humanoid. Although, upon closer inspection,
it would appear that almost everyone in the

03:54:43.060 --> 03:54:48.050
diner has widely different physiology. Even
those that look mostly human on the outside

03:54:48.050 --> 03:54:53.189
aren’t a perfect match - at least, by our
standards. That’s because everyone who visits

03:54:53.189 --> 03:54:56.930
Freddy’s Diner… has come from a completely
different reality.

03:54:56.930 --> 03:55:03.489
SCP-4258 isn’t your average diner - it’s
an interdimensional diner. People from all

03:55:03.489 --> 03:55:07.920
across the multiverse have made their way
to this specific restaurant for a bite. And

03:55:07.920 --> 03:55:11.699
it’s definitely popular with those that
visit. Freddy’s Diner might be the only

03:55:11.699 --> 03:55:16.340
restaurant that can claim to be multiversally
loved, frequented by customers from multiple

03:55:16.340 --> 03:55:21.010
different dimensions all at once. Some days,
you might see little more to indicate this

03:55:21.010 --> 03:55:24.850
than a few patrons wearing weird clothing,
the kind that you’ve never seen before.

03:55:24.850 --> 03:55:29.660
A sight like that is easy to write off as
a bizarre fashion statement, after all. But

03:55:29.660 --> 03:55:33.950
on other days, when you find yourself enjoying
a classically made milkshake at the bar when

03:55:33.950 --> 03:55:38.300
a six and a half foot anthropomorphic slime
creature sits down on the stool next to you,

03:55:38.300 --> 03:55:43.470
then it becomes a bit more apparent that Freddy’s
Diner is anything but ordinary. And the Agent

03:55:43.470 --> 03:55:47.890
sent to investigate the place by the Foundation
quickly gets that very same impression during

03:55:47.890 --> 03:55:49.620
his first visit.

03:55:49.620 --> 03:55:53.729
Perhaps in an effort not to get swept up in
the wonderous, Mos Eisley Cantina energy of

03:55:53.729 --> 03:55:59.000
SCP-4258, the Agent approaches the bar and
begins to conduct an impromptu interview in

03:55:59.000 --> 03:56:03.600
the field. He talks direct with an old gentleman
who appears to be running the place, the sole

03:56:03.600 --> 03:56:08.909
worker and owner of the establishment, the
man the diner is named after: Freddy. Although,

03:56:08.909 --> 03:56:15.530
he’ll later become known as SCP-4258-1.
Freddy greets the Agent with the same charming,

03:56:15.530 --> 03:56:19.320
well-mannered demeanor as all his customers,
before the Agent starts trying to get to the

03:56:19.320 --> 03:56:21.489
bottom of what exactly the place is.

03:56:21.489 --> 03:56:26.479
“It’s a diner,” Freddy tells him after
a quick chuckle. “They don’t have these

03:56:26.479 --> 03:56:28.250
in your dimension, kid?”

03:56:28.250 --> 03:56:32.930
The Agent clarifies that they are, indeed,
similar diners elsewhere in this dimension.

03:56:32.930 --> 03:56:36.720
Although they aren’t quite like Freddy’s.
The owner reassured the Agent that he’s

03:56:36.720 --> 03:56:40.850
only kidding, and then delivers the diner’s
motto - which apparently took him a century

03:56:40.850 --> 03:56:41.850
to come up with:

03:56:41.850 --> 03:56:46.710
“Welcome to Freddy's Diner, the only place
where you can eat cuisine that's out of your

03:56:46.710 --> 03:56:48.270
world!”

03:56:48.270 --> 03:56:52.720
Being well versed in the anomalous, and aware
of the existence of other universes, it doesn’t

03:56:52.720 --> 03:56:57.330
take the Agent very long to figure out that
this diner acts as some form of multiversal

03:56:57.330 --> 03:57:02.569
junction point, a nexus where various different
worlds can intersect. But Freddy points out

03:57:02.569 --> 03:57:06.890
that’s not exactly entirely correct, but
the Agent has at least grasped some of the

03:57:06.890 --> 03:57:11.220
core principle. More than happy to converse
with his new customer, Freddy explains that

03:57:11.220 --> 03:57:16.420
his Diner exists in what is known as ‘todash
space’. This, according to him, is the space

03:57:16.420 --> 03:57:22.390
between dimensions, and the door to SCP-4258
does indeed connect to all sorts of drastically

03:57:22.390 --> 03:57:24.080
different realities.

03:57:24.080 --> 03:57:29.040
As the Agent takes a look through the diner
windows, he notices a change in the scenery.

03:57:29.040 --> 03:57:33.830
Where there was once the familiar setting
of Earth, there is now a wide, sprawling desert

03:57:33.830 --> 03:57:40.010
that seems to stretch endlessly into the horizon
and beyond. Just then, a tall humanoid figure

03:57:40.010 --> 03:57:45.189
wearing a mask steps into Freddy’s Diner,
wrapped in extravagant robes. Freddy greets

03:57:45.189 --> 03:57:50.690
the newcomer as Quarelth, he’s clearly a
regular customer. The Agent returns to questioning

03:57:50.690 --> 03:57:55.580
the old man, curious as to how the diner actually
functions, and hoping to gain as much intelligence

03:57:55.580 --> 03:57:58.840
on the matter as possible for the SCP Foundation.

03:57:58.840 --> 03:58:03.460
One of the main questions the Agent wants
answered is, if Freddy’s Diner exists between

03:58:03.460 --> 03:58:08.550
dimensions, how can the customers possibly
pay for their meals. After all, even on Earth

03:58:08.550 --> 03:58:13.159
there are multiple forms of currency with
different competing values. Across an infinite

03:58:13.159 --> 03:58:17.540
number of entire universes, there’s hardly
going to be one multiversally accepted form

03:58:17.540 --> 03:58:23.630
of payment. But luckily, Freddy has an answer,
even if it is a little abstract. As he explains

03:58:23.630 --> 03:58:27.420
it, the restaurant is funded - in a sense
- by something called Empathius.

03:58:27.420 --> 03:58:33.020
“You know that happy feeling you get when
you remember something nice or someone compliments

03:58:33.020 --> 03:58:37.180
you? The restaurant feeds off that, it's what
keeps the place running.”

03:58:37.180 --> 03:58:41.630
Confused as to what he means, the Agent asks
for clarity - for a moment, it sounds like

03:58:41.630 --> 03:58:45.910
Freddy’s Diner extracts positive emotions
from its clientele, like a leech draining

03:58:45.910 --> 03:58:50.510
blood! But Freddy assures him that it’s
not quite the same. The diner itself only

03:58:50.510 --> 03:58:55.390
takes away the excess Empathius, the positive
emotions, that its customers experience from

03:58:55.390 --> 03:58:59.359
being there, enjoying their meals and the
atmosphere of the interdimensional diner.

03:58:59.359 --> 03:59:04.550
Freddy likens it to trimming the edges of
a hedge, SCP-4258 doesn’t rob people of

03:59:04.550 --> 03:59:09.189
their enjoyment, it just takes a little bit
to keep the lights on. The patrons that visit

03:59:09.189 --> 03:59:13.550
only have to feel happiness, and that’s
the only payment for their meal that Freddy

03:59:13.550 --> 03:59:14.550
wants.

03:59:14.550 --> 03:59:18.479
That brings the Agent to a final question:
if the restaurant takes a little bit of Empathius

03:59:18.479 --> 03:59:24.220
as payment, then what exactly is Freddy? The
owner chuckles and says he’s just an old

03:59:24.220 --> 03:59:29.390
man looking to make good food. Speaking of
which, he offers to take the Agent’s order.

03:59:29.390 --> 03:59:34.000
Not wanting to be rude, the Agent asks for
a hamburger and fries to go. He tries to see

03:59:34.000 --> 03:59:37.370
if there are any other staff working in the
kitchen, but there doesn’t look to be anyone

03:59:37.370 --> 03:59:42.630
at all. Save for a pair of transparent hands
that place a plate down on the kitchen line.

03:59:42.630 --> 03:59:45.800
Foundation researchers conduct a few different
tests on the food that the Agent received

03:59:45.800 --> 03:59:50.610
from SCP-4258, but their analysis quickly
reveals that there’s nothing harmful about

03:59:50.610 --> 03:59:55.840
it at all. It’s just a well-made burger.
The Agent is subsequently sent back to the

03:59:55.840 --> 04:00:00.260
diner to gather more information about it.
This time, he is given instructions from the

04:00:00.260 --> 04:00:03.920
Foundation to change up his approach and speak
with some of the customers instead, to see

04:00:03.920 --> 04:00:06.149
what they think of Freddy’s Diner.

04:00:06.149 --> 04:00:10.421
After all, despite his friendly demeanor,
the old man could always be a liar, trying

04:00:10.421 --> 04:00:15.100
to cover up a more sinister nature to his
restaurant so he can lure in more unsuspecting

04:00:15.100 --> 04:00:19.460
people from across the multiverse. Although
the Agent has little reason to suspect anything

04:00:19.460 --> 04:00:24.979
untoward about SCP-4258, the Foundation is
nothing if not thorough.

04:00:24.979 --> 04:00:28.580
During his second visit, the Agent sits down
with one of the customers enjoying a meal

04:00:28.580 --> 04:00:33.540
at Freddy’s Diner, a humanoid being whose
body is composed entirely of different types

04:00:33.540 --> 04:00:38.800
of stone. Just from a cursory glance, there
looks to be a mixture of basalt, granite,

04:00:38.800 --> 04:00:45.380
and limestone all over the entity, who introduces
itself as… Rock. The Agent starts by remarking

04:00:45.380 --> 04:00:47.550
that the creature has a very interesting name.

04:00:47.550 --> 04:00:51.029
“EVERYONE ON ROCK’S WORLD IS NAMED ROCK.”

04:00:51.029 --> 04:00:55.640
Pushing for more information on the creature’s
universe, the Agent decides to ask if Rock’s

04:00:55.640 --> 04:00:58.830
homeworld has a name, to which the reply is:

04:00:58.830 --> 04:00:59.950
“ROCK.”

04:00:59.950 --> 04:01:04.000
As far as the Agent can attain from Rock’s
fairly blunt description, the stone entity

04:01:04.000 --> 04:01:08.359
originates from a universe that lacks any
lifeforms with flesh and blood bodies - or

04:01:08.359 --> 04:01:13.580
‘Squishies’ as Rock refers to them. It
also states - with a similar lack of descriptive

04:01:13.580 --> 04:01:18.040
detail - that its home universe also lacks
anything resembling vegetation, there are

04:01:18.040 --> 04:01:22.640
no trees or plants, which means that the denizens
of this dimension only eat:

04:01:22.640 --> 04:01:25.970
“ROCK. VERY DELICIOUS, YES.”

04:01:25.970 --> 04:01:30.040
The Agent submits a proposal to the Foundation
for a third visit to Freddy’s Diner, writing

04:01:30.040 --> 04:01:33.910
in his report that his latest interview has
proven to be “completely useless”. Although,

04:01:33.910 --> 04:01:39.580
it does at least provide one interesting detail
about SCP-4258 - besides all the facts about

04:01:39.580 --> 04:01:44.130
rocks. It seems that everyone within Freddy’s
Diner, regardless of which dimension they

04:01:44.130 --> 04:01:48.800
originate from, is capable of understanding
each other. It’s almost like a multiversal

04:01:48.800 --> 04:01:52.850
translator is in effect within the restaurant
itself, to make it easier for Freddy and his

04:01:52.850 --> 04:01:54.870
patrons to communicate.

04:01:54.870 --> 04:01:59.790
Returning to SCP-4258 for a third time, the
Agent finds himself striking up a conversation

04:01:59.790 --> 04:02:05.790
with a rather familiar face: his own. Against
the improbable odds of infinite different

04:02:05.790 --> 04:02:10.251
people across an infinite number of universes
in an endless multiverse, the Foundation Agent

04:02:10.251 --> 04:02:14.939
happens to bump into one of his own counterparts
from an alternate reality. And for the most

04:02:14.939 --> 04:02:18.830
part, this Alternate Agent seems to be from
a universe that is practically identical to

04:02:18.830 --> 04:02:20.500
the first Agent’s.

04:02:20.500 --> 04:02:24.800
The two men sit down and begin to have a friendly
discussion almost immediately after entering

04:02:24.800 --> 04:02:28.540
Freddy’s Diner. After all, it’s likely
that nobody else in the establishment is as

04:02:28.540 --> 04:02:32.659
familiar with each other as the pair of them
are. The first Agent is quick to remark at

04:02:32.659 --> 04:02:37.989
how strange this encounter is, even amongst
his own years of experience at the SCP Foundation.

04:02:37.989 --> 04:02:42.149
Working with anomalies on a day-to-day basis
is strange enough, but interviewing an alternate

04:02:42.149 --> 04:02:46.130
version of yourself has to be a jarring experience,
to say the least!

04:02:46.130 --> 04:02:50.970
The Agent tries to establish any major differences
between their two universes, asking his counterpart

04:02:50.970 --> 04:02:55.600
who he works for in his reality. The Alternate
Agent explains that he also works for the

04:02:55.600 --> 04:03:01.090
SCP Foundation, or another version of it.
So far, no differences. Next, the Agent asks

04:03:01.090 --> 04:03:05.970
a more personal question: is the Alternate
Agent married? It turns out, he is, as a matter

04:03:05.970 --> 04:03:10.170
of fact they both are - and their wives are
not only alternates of each other, but both

04:03:10.170 --> 04:03:13.350
versions of the couple have been together
for twenty years.

04:03:13.350 --> 04:03:17.810
Next, the Agent asks his interdimensional
doppelganger to describe his world in more

04:03:17.810 --> 04:03:22.250
detail. More than happy to oblige, the Alternate
Agent describes that, in his universe, it

04:03:22.250 --> 04:03:26.290
is currently the twenty-first century. Most
of the socio-economic issues faced in this

04:03:26.290 --> 04:03:30.790
dimension are the same as this one: political
corruption is rife, there are shortages of

04:03:30.790 --> 04:03:35.660
essentials like food and water in many countries,
along with various other problems. But, the

04:03:35.660 --> 04:03:39.739
Alternate remarks, there are good things there
too, like Shark Week.

04:03:39.739 --> 04:03:43.760
“That sounds fairly close to our world,”
The Agent observes. “Seems like there aren't

04:03:43.760 --> 04:03:45.739
any noticeable differences between the two.”

04:03:45.739 --> 04:03:50.670
“Guess not. Pretty funny, huh?” his alternate
reality counterpart replies.

04:03:50.670 --> 04:03:54.300
It is at this point during the interview that
Freddy comes over to give the Alternate Agent

04:03:54.300 --> 04:03:58.560
his order: a burger and fries, presented in
delicious fashion on a plate.

04:03:58.560 --> 04:04:03.090
“Awesome, thanks Fred!” the Alternate
Agent says, before turning to his food. “Time

04:04:03.090 --> 04:04:04.410
to chow down!”

04:04:04.410 --> 04:04:09.010
Then, the Alternate Agent’s jaw proceeds
to unhinge, revealing multiple rows of razor-sharp

04:04:09.010 --> 04:04:13.300
teeth hidden behind the front-facing human
set. He lifts up the plate and begins to violently

04:04:13.300 --> 04:04:17.529
consume the burger and fries he ordered. Having
devoured the meal in a manner of minutes,

04:04:17.529 --> 04:04:21.250
the Alternate Agent then eats the plate his
food was set out on, crunching down chunks

04:04:21.250 --> 04:04:23.090
of ceramic.

04:04:23.090 --> 04:04:27.420
Returning to the Foundation, the first Agent
later requests to be administered with amnestics.

04:04:27.420 --> 04:04:39.680
His request is denied.