WEBVTT Kind: captions Language: en 00:00:00.080 --> 00:00:04.880 The babysitter sits in the darkened house, lit  only by the soft glow of the television screen.   00:00:05.600 --> 00:00:12.720 Now that the little girl has gone to bed, the  warm, lively home is eerily quiet, eerily still.   00:00:13.520 --> 00:00:17.120 With nervous fingers that need to keep  moving, she flips through the channels,   00:00:17.120 --> 00:00:21.840 past competitive cooking shows, a black-and-white  film, a documentary about penguins.   00:00:21.840 --> 00:00:25.920 None of it grabs her attention like she needs it  to. None of it is an adequate distraction from the   00:00:25.920 --> 00:00:30.400 anxious prickle on the back of her neck, the way  her palms are growing clammy and slick with sweat.  00:00:31.040 --> 00:00:36.560 This is the worst part of every babysitting gig.  Her friends would disagree, would say that late at   00:00:36.560 --> 00:00:40.800 night, after the kids have gone to bed and before  the parents get home from their evening out, is   00:00:40.800 --> 00:00:45.760 the best part. This is the perfect little pocket  of peace when they can invite their boyfriends   00:00:45.760 --> 00:00:51.440 over or sneak an extra snack from the pantry.  But as her eyes watch the flickering screen,   00:00:51.440 --> 00:00:55.440 the shopping channel, the late-night talk  shows, all she can really think about   00:00:55.440 --> 00:00:59.760 is just how alone she is right now. It’s a safe neighborhood,   00:00:59.760 --> 00:01:04.720 she knows that in her rational mind. But she  can’t help but feel her pulse spike every time   00:01:04.720 --> 00:01:09.600 headlights illuminate the yard outside the window,  can’t stop her imagination from running wild with   00:01:09.600 --> 00:01:14.800 images of machete-wielding killers watching  through the glass. Why, she has to wonder,   00:01:14.800 --> 00:01:19.600 as her chest tightens with aimless fear, are  there so many scary stories about babysitters?  00:01:20.160 --> 00:01:25.200 It’s always the babysitter getting a phone call  from a menacing stranger, rasping in a deep voice,   00:01:25.200 --> 00:01:28.960 “Have you checked the children?” It’s always the babysitter watching   00:01:28.960 --> 00:01:32.880 the creepy clown statue in the corner of the  room all night, until she calls the family   00:01:32.880 --> 00:01:37.920 to ask them a question about it and hears those  terrifying words, “We don’t have a clown statue.”  00:01:38.800 --> 00:01:44.320 It’s inescapable. From mask-wearing slashers  and escaped lunatics, to the soft voices of   00:01:44.320 --> 00:01:48.800 ghostly children and the maniacal cackling  of the demon in the closet or under the bed,   00:01:48.800 --> 00:01:53.840 waiting for new prey. In a horror story, a  babysitter always has a target on her back.  00:01:54.720 --> 00:01:58.240 She shivers. Those are campfire  stories, she reminds herself.   00:01:58.240 --> 00:02:02.640 Just because a babysitter is an easy target for  a fictional killer, that doesn’t mean anything   00:02:02.640 --> 00:02:07.200 bad is going to happen to her here, tonight. The kid’s sleeping soundly, the parents will   00:02:07.200 --> 00:02:11.680 be home soon, and there’s leftover macaroni  and cheese in the kitchen. Everything is fine.   00:02:14.160 --> 00:02:21.680 She takes a deep breath in, and just before  she can let it out and relax, there’s   00:02:22.720 --> 00:02:28.320 a rustling at the front door. She tenses, holding  her breath. Maybe it’s a raccoon, digging through   00:02:28.320 --> 00:02:34.080 the trash cans out there. Maybe it’s just  the wind. But then, undeniable and chilling,   00:02:34.080 --> 00:02:39.680 the sound of footsteps pacing back and forth  outside. She grips the arm of the couch so hard   00:02:39.680 --> 00:02:45.680 her knuckles go white, refusing to move a muscle. Should she turn the lights on? No, she can’t,   00:02:45.680 --> 00:02:49.840 then they’ll know someone is home. Whoever is  lurking outside the front door late at night, and   00:02:50.480 --> 00:02:54.480 deliberately deciding not to knock, she  doesn’t want them to know she’s here.   00:02:55.280 --> 00:03:00.720 Suddenly, a thought occurs to her, one that  makes her stomach drop: Did she lock the door?  00:03:01.600 --> 00:03:04.480 The squeak of metal almost  makes her cry out in shock,   00:03:04.480 --> 00:03:09.120 but she covers her mouth at the last second.  The mail slot on the front door slides open.   00:03:09.120 --> 00:03:12.560 Something small pushes through, and  lands on the floor with a soft thunk.   00:03:13.440 --> 00:03:18.560 Then, as quickly as they came, the footsteps  retreat, and she is alone in the dark again.   00:03:24.400 --> 00:03:28.640 Whoever was there, they’re gone. But what did they leave behind?  00:03:29.440 --> 00:03:34.320 The babysitter tiptoes over to the door, where she  finds the strange delivery laying on the floor.   00:03:35.040 --> 00:03:41.120 It’s a small plastic case, containing a single,  unmarked DVD. She flips it over, looking for   00:03:41.120 --> 00:03:44.480 any kind of writing to indicate what it might  be, but there is nothing. She remembers, then,   00:03:44.480 --> 00:03:47.360 that the family has a DVD player. She couldn’t explain what exactly   00:03:47.360 --> 00:03:53.280 made her slide the disk into the player and  sit down to watch whatever it might hold.   00:03:53.280 --> 00:03:59.040 Perhaps it was morbid curiosity or that  nagging, all-consuming desire for distraction.   00:03:59.040 --> 00:04:06.320 Whatever it was, she pressed “play,” and readied  herself for what might come next. The screen comes   00:04:06.320 --> 00:04:10.720 to life with the image of a young woman in a short  white dress and a pair of high heels, running   00:04:10.720 --> 00:04:15.920 down a narrow hallway. Her mouth is open wide,  her face twisted into a bloodcurdling scream,   00:04:15.920 --> 00:04:21.200 but there is no sound coming from the TV. The babysitter grabs the remote, turning up   00:04:21.200 --> 00:04:27.360 the volume, but nothing emerges from the speakers  but silence. Somehow, without sound, the scream   00:04:27.360 --> 00:04:33.840 looks more horrifying. It’s stiff, unnatural. As the woman on TV runs, a dark figure rounds the   00:04:33.840 --> 00:04:39.040 corner behind her, pursuing her. The babysitter  gasps involuntarily as the figure comes further   00:04:39.040 --> 00:04:45.440 into the frame. It’s a massive doll, three times  the height of the woman in the white dress.   00:04:45.440 --> 00:04:50.720 It wears a dress of its own, a garish lacy thing  with puffed sleeves and a long, stuffed skirt.   00:04:51.360 --> 00:04:56.080 The doll shouldn’t be able to move the way it  does. Everything about it seems meant to stay   00:04:56.080 --> 00:05:01.920 still, its stiff wooden arms, its splayed,  frozen fingers, the fixed, insipid smile,   00:05:01.920 --> 00:05:07.120 its unblinking beady eyes that bore into  its victim’s back. Still, the doll moves,   00:05:07.120 --> 00:05:11.680 its legs and arms pumping, its head turning  from side to side to follow the woman’s path.  00:05:12.320 --> 00:05:16.400 The hallway turns into a music room, with a  grand piano and a wooden bench that the woman   00:05:16.400 --> 00:05:20.880 knocks on its side as she barrels past.  The doll is relentless in its pursuit,   00:05:20.880 --> 00:05:26.320 following at a steady, almost casual pace. As  if it knows that the human girl will grow tired,   00:05:26.320 --> 00:05:29.680 weak, vulnerable, while it could  keep up this chase forever.   00:05:30.400 --> 00:05:35.840 The babysitter can’t look away, can’t shut her  eyes. She wants to, so badly, but she has to see   00:05:35.840 --> 00:05:41.200 what happens to the poor girl. What that unfeeling  face will look like when it catches its prey.  00:05:42.000 --> 00:05:47.680 She watches for several minutes, she can’t quite  tell how long, and then…the screen cuts to black.   00:05:47.680 --> 00:05:53.520 The babysitter sighs, ready to eject the DVD and  throw it in the trash. But then, it comes back to   00:05:53.520 --> 00:05:59.280 life. There she is, the woman in white, lying on  the floor now in a crumpled, motionless heap. The   00:05:59.280 --> 00:06:05.040 camera trails over her body, from her feet, up her  legs, bent at odd angles, past her broken arms,   00:06:05.040 --> 00:06:12.080 and finally to her face. There, the beady black  eyes stare out of the screen. The woman’s head   00:06:12.080 --> 00:06:16.000 is gone, replaced with the head of the doll. It has her. And she is gone. Then,   00:06:16.000 --> 00:06:21.760 the screen goes black again. It’s over. The babysitter reaches a hand to her face, and   00:06:21.760 --> 00:06:27.120 feels moisture on her cheeks. When did she start  crying? She wasn’t sure, but now she couldn’t   00:06:27.120 --> 00:06:34.960 stop. It was all so horrible. People turning into  dolls, dolls taking over humanity. She feels her   00:06:34.960 --> 00:06:40.560 grasp of what was real, of what was flesh and  blood, and what was cold, cruel porcelain, growing   00:06:40.560 --> 00:06:45.600 weaker. She tries to calm her racing heart, to  recall a soothing song her mother used to sing,   00:06:45.600 --> 00:06:48.720 but those old memories feel fuzzy  like a half-remembered dream.  00:06:49.360 --> 00:06:54.640 “Hello?” A quiet voice jolts the babysitter  from her thoughts. There, on the stairs, is the   00:06:54.640 --> 00:07:02.000 little girl, clad in her pink bunny pajamas and  clutching her favorite doll. “I had a bad dream.”  00:07:02.720 --> 00:07:07.120 The babysitter looks from the little  girl to the doll in her hand. They have   00:07:07.120 --> 00:07:12.480 the same wide blue eyes, the same perfect  ringlet curls, and the same rosy cheeks.   00:07:12.480 --> 00:07:19.120 The almost artificial sheen of her skin, the way  she walks, talks… How had she not seen it before?  00:07:19.840 --> 00:07:23.120 “It’s okay, I’m here.” She says.  “Do you want a glass of water?”  00:07:23.760 --> 00:07:26.960 The girl nods. The babysitter could  have sworn the doll nodded too.   00:07:27.600 --> 00:07:31.360 What could she do? Could she say something?  No, that wouldn’t work. The girl was too   00:07:31.360 --> 00:07:35.840 young to understand. She would have to find  another way. She makes her way to the kitchen,   00:07:35.840 --> 00:07:40.160 and as she turns on the tap to fill a cup  with water, her eyes fall on the butcher’s   00:07:40.160 --> 00:07:46.080 block. On the meat cleaver, waiting there like a  volunteer. She wraps her hand around its handle,   00:07:46.080 --> 00:07:48.302 and makes her way back to the living room. The little girl screams when she sees her   00:07:48.302 --> 00:07:49.185 beloved babysitter wielding a big, sharp knife,  and she turns to run up the stairs, but like the   00:07:49.185 --> 00:07:49.976 woman in the video, it is only a matter of  time. When the babysitter catches the girl,   00:07:49.976 --> 00:07:50.795 dragging her by the hair as she wriggles and  calls for her parents, she tries her best to   00:07:50.795 --> 00:07:51.760 reassure the child. ‘Don’t be afraid. It’s okay.  After I’m done, I’ll put you back together.”  00:07:51.760 --> 00:07:55.520 A half-hour later, the parents come home,  expecting to find their daughter in bed   00:07:55.520 --> 00:07:58.480 and their trusty babysitter sitting  on the couch like she always was.   00:07:59.120 --> 00:08:04.640 Instead, they find a nightmare. They flick on  the light to reveal spatters of blood soaking   00:08:04.640 --> 00:08:08.880 their once pristine white carpet, a streak  of thick red gore leading them down the hall.   00:08:09.600 --> 00:08:14.400 They can smell a metallic rot that belonged in  a butcher’s shop. When they reach the kitchen,   00:08:14.960 --> 00:08:24.720 all they can do is scream. The babysitter has the girl’s   00:08:24.720 --> 00:08:27.280 body, or what is left of it, splayed out on the  dining room table. Her expression is one of grief,   00:08:27.280 --> 00:08:30.895 deep and sorrowful, yet her hands continue  their gruesome work. The girl’s mother speaks.  00:08:30.895 --> 00:08:33.120 “What have you done?!” She wails, as  her husband stands by, pale and weeping.  00:08:34.000 --> 00:08:39.120 “I didn’t want to. But it was the only way.”  The babysitter wipes the tears from her eyes,   00:08:39.120 --> 00:08:42.080 smearing blood across her cheek  as she does. “Don’t you see?”  00:08:42.880 --> 00:08:46.560 She looks at the couple expectantly, but  they cannot say a word. If they open their   00:08:46.560 --> 00:08:51.280 mouths again, they know they will be sick. “I had to show you the truth,” the babysitter   00:08:51.280 --> 00:08:59.520 insists. “She wasn’t real, anyway.  She was a doll. A toy. Just like me.”  00:09:00.400 --> 00:09:05.920 She turns her gaze to them, a sudden, wild glint  in her tear-filled eyes. She slowly stands and   00:09:05.920 --> 00:09:11.120 takes a step toward the couple, her expression  one of grim determination. The look of someone   00:09:11.120 --> 00:09:16.080 who is not proud of the blood they will have on  their hands but is about to spill it anyway. The   00:09:16.080 --> 00:09:21.600 parents turned to run, but it was too late. She  was already on them. She raised the cleaver high,   00:09:21.600 --> 00:09:24.800 the sharp metal edge glinting  menacingly in the low light.  00:09:24.800 --> 00:09:28.800 “Just like you.” This poor unfortunate family, their lost   00:09:28.800 --> 00:09:33.440 daughter, and a seemingly well-adjusted babysitter  turned murderer were not the first people to have   00:09:33.440 --> 00:09:38.400 their lives destroyed by this strange DVD, and  they would not be the last. All over the world,   00:09:38.400 --> 00:09:43.840 random individuals have opened their mailboxes  to find a nondescript DVD, with no logo, title,   00:09:43.840 --> 00:09:49.120 or any other identifying information. If they  made the grave mistake of watching the DVD, they   00:09:49.680 --> 00:10:01.360 have fallen prey to the influence of SCP-1432. SCP-1432 does not refer to the DVDs themselves,   00:10:01.360 --> 00:10:05.280 but rather to the piece of content that  is contained on them. It is a silent,   00:10:05.280 --> 00:10:11.200 avant-garde short film that consists of a series  of nearly identical scenes. In each sequence,   00:10:11.200 --> 00:10:16.080 a massive doll chases a young woman through  various rooms and down various hallways. The   00:10:16.080 --> 00:10:21.280 doll’s size varies from scene to scene, seemingly  expanding or compressing in order to fill larger   00:10:21.280 --> 00:10:27.040 rooms or fit through smaller doorways. This goes  on for sixteen minutes before the final scene,   00:10:27.040 --> 00:10:30.960 a shot of the young woman’s body, with  the doll’s head in place of her own.  00:10:31.760 --> 00:10:37.440 But what is it, aside from the unsettling imagery,  that makes this video so anomalous? Anyone who   00:10:37.440 --> 00:10:42.000 views this video for at least five minutes will  experience a dramatic shift in their perception   00:10:42.000 --> 00:10:47.680 of reality, and of their own identity. The subject  will begin to believe, without a shred of doubt,   00:10:47.680 --> 00:10:53.360 that they and all of the other people and animals  in the world are not organic beings, but rather   00:10:53.360 --> 00:10:59.840 dolls constructed by an unidentified force. This  effect results in homicidal tendencies in 73%   00:10:59.840 --> 00:11:04.480 of subjects. The resulting murders are often  messy and emotionally fraught for the subject,   00:11:04.480 --> 00:11:07.920 who will express remorse for what they  have done while simultaneously believing   00:11:07.920 --> 00:11:11.920 that killing and mutilating their victim  is the only way to show others the truth.  00:11:12.560 --> 00:11:17.200 The first instance of SCP-1432 on record  was discovered in the evidence lockup of   00:11:17.200 --> 00:11:21.680 a small-town Ohio police station, after a  particularly harrowing homicide case drew   00:11:21.680 --> 00:11:26.320 the attention of Foundation operatives. A  twelve-year-old boy had watched the video,   00:11:26.320 --> 00:11:31.200 and several hours later had killed and mutilated  his mother and father. The Foundation brought   00:11:31.200 --> 00:11:35.600 both the DVD and the boy into custody, and  a Researcher sat him down for an interview.  00:11:36.320 --> 00:11:40.160 The Researcher began the interview by  having the boy introduce himself by name.   00:11:40.160 --> 00:11:43.920 With those formalities out of the way, they  could get to the more pressing questions.  00:11:44.640 --> 00:11:49.680 “Very good,” he began, “Now, you believe that  you are an artificial toy, is that correct?”  00:11:49.680 --> 00:11:56.400 The boy nodded. “I am. You are. Everyone…  everyone I’ve met is. Probably everyone is,   00:11:56.400 --> 00:12:00.560 I don’t know. I…” At this, he trailed  off, his eyes filling with tears.  00:12:00.560 --> 00:12:05.440 The Researcher attempted to comfort him. “It’s  okay. When did you first realize you were a toy?”  00:12:06.160 --> 00:12:10.640 “I watched a video. Don’t remember much of  it. About a doll, I think, or something.   00:12:11.200 --> 00:12:16.160 But after that, I knew. I mean, it was  obvious, how could I not have seen it sooner?   00:12:16.160 --> 00:12:22.160 Everyone was. Everyone, just toys, everything  I felt, that time I hit a home run for the   00:12:22.160 --> 00:12:26.400 first time, my love for my parents, my dog…  all just someone playing with their toys.”  00:12:27.200 --> 00:12:30.960 The Researcher pressed the matter a little  further. “But if you didn’t think like this   00:12:30.960 --> 00:12:35.200 until after you saw the video, don’t you think  it's possible the video could have made you   00:12:35.200 --> 00:12:40.640 feel this way? Affected your mind somehow?” At this, the boy clenched his fists tight,   00:12:40.640 --> 00:12:45.440 face reddening with anger. “No! The guy  who made the video, he was warning people,   00:12:45.440 --> 00:12:50.000 don’t you get it? He figured it out, and he  wanted other people to know! Because people need   00:12:50.000 --> 00:12:56.720 to! They don’t deserve to just, just exist so that  somewhere someone gets a good laugh or whatever…”  00:12:56.720 --> 00:13:02.400 “It’s okay, I understand. So, did you try to  tell your parents about what you’d found out?”  00:13:02.400 --> 00:13:07.200 The boy began to tremble, the tears that had  pooled in his eyes before now flowed freely down   00:13:07.200 --> 00:13:14.640 his cheeks. “I…I did. They didn’t believe me, I  kept explaining it to them but they just didn’t   00:13:14.640 --> 00:13:22.480 understand, I… they… I had to show, show someone.  I had to let people know. I, the only way was to,   00:13:23.360 --> 00:13:27.920 it couldn’t have been just anyone else, I wouldn’t  get the opportunity like I did with them, but…”  00:13:28.720 --> 00:13:31.440 “I understand. You had to do  what you thought was right…”  00:13:32.160 --> 00:13:35.520 The boy pounded his fists on the  table, shaking harder than before.   00:13:35.520 --> 00:13:40.480 His voice wavered with the intensity of  his distress. “They’re so smart. They know,   00:13:40.480 --> 00:13:44.160 they know the only way you find out is  to show people what’s really inside.   00:13:44.160 --> 00:13:49.360 So they put in this, they, they program you so  that you don’t. They make it so hard, it was,   00:13:49.360 --> 00:13:53.600 all those memories, but I had to, I… I…” The Researcher reached out a hand to pat   00:13:53.600 --> 00:13:59.040 the boy on the shoulder. “I know, it's okay.” The boy wept silently for a moment, then asked,   00:13:59.760 --> 00:14:02.880 “I’m a good person, right?  I had to, I really did…”  00:14:03.520 --> 00:14:07.280 The Researcher fought back tears of  their own. “You’re a good person.   00:14:07.280 --> 00:14:12.960 It will be alright eventually, I promise.” The boy was taken back to his containment chamber   00:14:12.960 --> 00:14:17.760 and given a sedative to help him sleep. The  Researcher immediately requested a course of Class   00:14:17.760 --> 00:14:22.960 A amnestics to help him forget the conversation  that had troubled him so deeply. His request was   00:14:22.960 --> 00:14:27.680 granted, and he carried on with his duties at the  SCP Foundation until the next traumatic encounter.  00:14:28.480 --> 00:14:34.240 All recovered instances of SCP-1432 are kept in a  secure filing cabinet in its containment chamber.   00:14:34.240 --> 00:14:39.040 This chamber also contains a television and DVD  player, which are to be used during testing.   00:14:39.040 --> 00:14:44.240 No instances of SCP-1432 may be removed  from the room under any circumstances.  00:14:44.960 --> 00:14:48.240 Though the Foundation has contained  every Doll DVD it has come across,   00:14:48.240 --> 00:14:53.920 the containment process for SCP-1432 has been a  bit like tossing buckets of water out of a sinking   00:14:53.920 --> 00:14:59.040 ship. It may help a little, but the dangerous  waters continue to rise just the same. Because   00:14:59.040 --> 00:15:04.800 of this difficulty in maintaining containment,  SCP-1432 has been given the Euclid object class.  00:15:05.680 --> 00:15:09.360 All the Foundation can really do is  monitor police communications and   00:15:09.360 --> 00:15:13.840 keep an eye out for any homicides linked  to a DVD. If one such crime is reported,   00:15:13.840 --> 00:15:19.200 a recovery team will be sent to the scene to  retrieve any potential instances of SCP-1432.   00:15:19.200 --> 00:15:24.560 These suspected DVDs are then tested on D-Class  personnel. If the test subjects begin rambling   00:15:24.560 --> 00:15:29.360 on about dolls, and people not being real, then  the DVDs are placed in immediate containment.  00:15:30.080 --> 00:15:34.720 The effort doesn’t end there, though. The  digital age has made it easier to find recipes,   00:15:34.720 --> 00:15:39.520 communicate with lost loved ones, and pirate  music, but it has also made it simpler for bad   00:15:39.520 --> 00:15:45.520 actors to share harmful material with millions  of strangers. Because SCP-1432 could do untold   00:15:45.520 --> 00:15:50.800 damage to the population if allowed to go viral, a  specialized team must monitor online video sharing   00:15:50.800 --> 00:15:56.240 platforms for any instances of it. If any are  found, they must be deleted as soon as possible,   00:15:56.240 --> 00:16:01.520 and the IP address of the user who uploaded the  video must be traced. Currently, very little is   00:16:01.520 --> 00:16:06.480 known about the video’s origins. It is yet to be  determined who made the video, for what purpose,   00:16:06.480 --> 00:16:11.840 or who will be selected to receive a copy next. There are some forces in this world that you just   00:16:11.840 --> 00:16:16.720 shouldn’t toy with. So be wary of any mysterious  DVDs that are slipped into your mailbox.   00:16:16.720 --> 00:16:20.800 Best just to throw it away immediately. Don’t  bring it inside the house, don’t fire up your   00:16:20.800 --> 00:16:27.840 DVD player, and definitely don’t press play. If  you do, it might be the last thing you ever watch.  00:16:28.720 --> 00:16:34.800 Now go and watch another entry from the files of  Dr. Bob, like “SCP-513 – A Cowbell” for another   00:16:34.800 --> 00:16:39.440 madness-inducing anomaly that chips away at the  sanity of all who encounter it. And make sure you   00:16:39.440 --> 00:16:42.640 subscribe and turn on notifications,  so you don’t miss a single anomaly,   00:16:42.640 --> 00:16:47.760 as we delve further and further into the  SCP Foundation’s classified archives.