 Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to Skip Dictation Live. In case you're new to the stream, my name is Sherman, welcome to Site 42. This live stream is for hanging out while I record the SCPs. You can get some behind-the-scenes stuff. You can hang out in the chat, which I will set up right now. The chat on YouTube has a slight delay. The chat on the Site 42 Discord server does not have a delay. So if you want to join the Site 42 Discord server and chat in there, I keep that window open as well. So let me type to them. Stream is live. Stream if life. That's what happens when I cover the typing bar with my camera slash cell phone. Whatever. So today we are doing the man parts of SDLock's proposal when day breaks. My girl squad nailed it. I listened to their footage to make sure I have exactly what I need to record what they didn't. And oh my god. Oh my god. It's crazy. So it's going to be awesome. I'm going to record the man parts, which is all the pros. And then the narration and computer and sound effects. So today is all about recording it. That is today's goal, is we got to record. And then we're going to work toward our editing later on. Because the girl sent me 24 minutes of material. And I've still got a lot of stuff to put into this. So it's going to take a while. This is going to be another long one. Another long one. But you know what? That's what we're here for. Doing the undoable. Stopping recording the uncor... Well, my epic speech is gone. Oh well. We're going to do the undoable. Record the unrecordable. Row row fight the power. Our drill pierces the heavens. And the top of the camera. So that being said, I've got all channels windows live. And it is time to start recording. So let us begin. By the way, if for those of you in the chat, I am mostly going to hang out in the YouTube chat. Just because that is easier to see from my desktop. But I'll swap back to the general now and again. Row row study the unstudable. That's what I'm talking about, Pingo. Get it done. Get it done. Okay, so we are set. Man parts. Time for some man lines. Oh no. We've got a YouTube very bad connection. That's not a good thing. I really hope you guys can still see me. I really hope this works. Hope you're still with me on this very poor connected Halloween live stream. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. YouTube. Why? Why are you doing this to me? Because it's a holiday. So everyone's using bandwidth and my internet sucks. And I need to get new internet. Okay. It froze up for a sec, but it seems fine now. Good. Stay that way. YouTube. YouTube. Or not really YouTube. In my case, it's internet provider redacted. That internet provider is a total bad job doer and boo internet providers. So, yes. Done. Recording time. Let's do it. We're already four minutes in. All right. Round one. You find the access tunnel hidden within a natural cave a mile off the main road. You don't need the key card. The door is a jar. It smells here. It smells like them. Hopefully they've moved on. You've come so far already. You can't turn back now. There's a slick trail that leads from the cave entrance and into the depths of the site. If it's blood or shit or something that smeared off one of those things, you cannot tell. You make a point to avoid it. You're still receiving the distress signal. It only started broadcasting yesterday. Whoever it is, you pray they're still alive. Your footsteps echo through empty corridors. Each football sounds for all the world like a dozen, as if you're not treading through the dark alone. Elevator is down, so you take the stairs. Ending on floor B5. Keter holding. You pass several empty containment chambers. The horrors they once held are long gone. If you're lucky. The trail takes you to an office branching off the main hall, the source of the signal. The doors cracked open, but stuck. You plant your feet, push with all your might. Something skitters out of one of the rooms to your left and around the corner before you can get a good look at it. Your first thought is, dog. It was on the ceiling though. You take refuge in the room, slam the door behind you. It's dark here. You're safe. You take off your jacket and head wrap. It'd be a damn shame to die from something like hyperthermia after all that's happened. The sole operating emergency light rotates in its casing, casting a pale orange glow across the room every other second, as if the room itself had a pulse. Their shelving haphazardly placed behind the door, a barricade. You scan the room, soiled clothes, half eaten food. Despite the presence of an adjoining restroom, there is excrement in a bucket in the corner. A pneumatic chamber on the northern wall would have been delivering consumables to the occupant. The trail terminates in the corner of the room, forming a sick puddle. You spot three pharmacy bottles. Further inspection reveals them to be various opioids. They're all empty. There's a desk with a computer atop it. Approaching the terminal, you can clearly see the blinking light of the power button. You take a seat. You turn it on. You take a seat. Turn it on. Alright, we got a pretty good speed there. Oh, hey, Samma. This is Samma Says. Samma is one of the girls in the lock proposal and does like all the recordings for us. So, Samma is a Site 42 celebrity cast member. Hi. Glad you could join us today. And yes, Samma. One thing I've gotten good at is taking as little takes as I can and just being really careful with my words. It comes from doing over a hundred of these now. Oh, that was a good run. I just did a solid two and a half minutes nonstop. High five team. Yes. Okay, so we got through the first round of pros. Now it's time to do some computer voice. So, here we go. Oh, no, God. We've got to alternate between computer pro, computer voice and pros. We got to go back and forth. Oh, man, challenge mode engage. Let's do it. Two and a half minutes and no drats. A personal best. I think so. No drats whatsoever. Okay. So we're here. And round two. Emergency protocol activated. Clearance level safeguards removed. Full access granted. Secure. Contain. Protect. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. You hear footsteps. There's a drat. I didn't change voices. Arg. Arg. Continuing on. You hear footsteps just outside the door. Every first step comes down heavy. The second drags behind it. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. Loading. as the screen comes to life. Opening file. Automated secure system notification code 235. Just in time for a draft, Samma. Just in time. So, okay, in my research, I did not look this up and I have a problem. What does ASSN stand for? Because I have, oh, that's why I didn't look it up because I'm dumb. It's Automated Secure System Notification Code 235. ASSN 235. It's literally right there. Automated Secure System Notification Code. Ah! Site 42, why you so stupid? You're so stupid! Guess what movie that's from? Nobody saw that movie because it came out at the same time as the original Batman movie. So where was I? Automated Secure System Notification Code 235. Waiting 30 seconds to see if anyone else recognizes that quote. Stupid! You're so stupid! Code 235. Nope, it is not Kindergarten Cop. Although, you know, it might've, I've actually not, I haven't seen that movie in forever. The movie I'm quoting is, oh, hi mahogany donut. I don't recognize your username. Welcome to the chat. The movie I'm quoting is UHF, which is the weird Al Jankovich movie. They live next door to a karate dojo and the guy who trains them, the sensei of the studio, keeps knocking people through the wall in their house and berating them because they're stupid! So stupid! Later on during the Wheel of Fish sketch, it's the same thing when they trade for the wrong fish. Oh man, see? Now I wanna look it up and link it to you guys. I don't know if I can put links in a chat. UHF, you're so stupid. There we go, perfect! Copy link address. And can I drop that here? Can I drop that here? I'm gonna give you all something to look at. Maybe, go! Nope, can't post links. Look up, UHF, you're so stupid. It's the first thing that comes up. And the second and the third thing. It's all things. It's everything. It's all things. Okay, so continuing on with Automated Secure System Notification Code 235. ASSN-235. There has been an error in retrieving the current iteration of the SCP-001 file. You are currently viewing revision number three. Newer revisions can be accessed at the bottom of this page. Curses, I just thought of a really good idea for how to say that as a computer while I was saying it, so now I have to do it again. Girat, here we go. Making it better though. Not a mistake, an improvement. ASSN-235. There has been an error in retrieving the current iteration of the SCP-001 file. You are currently viewing revision number three. Newer revisions can be accessed at the bottom of this page. It's not a tumor. Someone wondered if it maybe it was a tumor. It's not a tumor. That is what I was referring to, live stream people who have no idea what the chat says. No, don't delete everything Sherman, you need everything. Okay, okay, we're back. And access file, SCP- Ooh, voice crack, bring it back. Take that and rewind back. Access file, SCP-001, revision number three slash 12. Audio file, access granted. Revision three dash 12, updated, 1,000, 3,000, and 12 days ago. And at that point, the girls come in. So I'm not going to do that yet. Instead, what I'm going to do is yell really loudly. That way, I think I saw the hide from me one. Yeah, super creepy. I'm going to, I haven't decided if I'm going to make that, what's the phrase I'm looking for? I haven't decided if I'm still gonna do the access granted or if I'm gonna change the access granted to your hide from me. That way it creeps out of nowhere like the computer's doing awful things. Because the computer's doing awful things. Okay, so audio file. And that's what I got, right? Computer typing sounds fit in there. Access granted, three dash 12, updated, 1,000, 3,000, and 12, and 1,000. Revision three dash 12, updated, 1,000, 3,000, and 12 days ago. It's not dash 12, it's slash 12. Access. I am a jerk. Three slash 12. Continuity, continuity. Revision three dash 12, updated, 1,000, 3,000. Revision three slash 12, updated, 1,000, 312 days ago. There we go. Did that just auto correct in real life to realize? I don't know, did it? Where did it do that? I am confused, I have missed this reference. Where is, any who? All right, so you guys recorded all of this, all of this, all of this. This is me, administrator. I'm gonna have to voice change this to make it creepy. O5. Oh wait, this isn't an O5, this is the administrator. Ooh, I have never voiced the administrator before. I have voiced the O5s, and I do them with voice changing technology, and I make it down and low and garbled. But I've never done the administrator. Oh, interesting. What voice does the administrator have? I wonder, I wonder. Gonna adjust my chair a little bit. There we go, that feels nicer. Cool, okay. There aren't any O5s in this one, so I think I'm just gonna treat them like the administrator and do a voice changer on him. To those of you with families, or God forbid, children, I'm deeply, deeply sorry. You must push on. Do not let their deaths be in vain. We do still have time. Humanity, wait. Man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man, man. To those of you with families, or God forbid, children, I'm deeply, deeply sorry. You must push on. Do not let their deaths be in vain. We do still have time. Humanity may still have a future. Come to site 19. We need all the hands we can get. Learn to embrace the darkness, friends. Fear the light, the administrator. Let me listen to that, how that sounds. To those of you with families, or God forbid, children, I'm deeply, deeply sorry. You must push on. Do not let their deaths be in vain. We do still have time. Humanity may still have a future. Come to site 19. We need all the hands we can get. Learn to embrace the darkness, friends. Fear the light, the administrator. Yeah, okay, I can go with that. I like how that turned out. So let's, we'll voice change him a little lower just so it's like because you hide the identities of the administrator in the O5s. Cool. All right, so now I've got a little computer error here. System error, data lost, EC172, contact system administrator. Nope, sysadmin. System error, data lost, EC172, contact sysadmin. Cool, cool. All right, a little bit of computer jargon, gotcha, feeling good. And moving on, moving on. Going on down, going on down. Not my problem, not my problem. Getting things done, going down. Red text, that's me. Open attached file, audio log, access granted. Okay, now we're gonna play a game called how often do I narrate versus how often can I solve it with sound effects instead? Cause sometimes some of these poses are narrations that you can hear and some of them are setting the tone that I ought to have them. So when it says a harsh static lashes out of the speakers when you open the file. So the static will come out. It disturbed the stillness of the room, catches you off guard and quickens your heart's pace. There's some handling noise as the recorder adjusts the microphone. A brief moment of silence passes and then. So I think the static will happen. I think I'll say that. A harsh static lashes out of the speakers when you open the file. It disturbs the stillness of the room, catches you off guard and quickens your heart's pace. There's some handling noise as a recorder. Drat! Try it again. I think I made a noise on the microphone too. A harsh static lashes out of the speakers when you open the file. It disturbed the stillness of the room, catches you off guard and quickens your heart's pace. There's some handling noise as the recorder adjusts their microphone. A brief moment of silence passes and then. There's a quiver in her voice that betrays her attempts at professionalism. She pauses, takes a deep breath and continues. Yeah, nothing like surprisingly loud static out of nowhere to terrify everybody, right? So she sighs. Obviously I'm just gonna let her sigh. So sighing is fair. We don't need she sighs. There's a quiver in her voice that betrays her attempts at professionalism. I like that one because it sets a mood. She stops again, mutters to herself incomprehensibly before you hear the unmistakable sound of a match strike. I think I'll say that one, but I'll leave. She exhales audibly out. I'll leave that to her. She stops again, mutters to herself incomprehensibly. She stops again, mutters to herself incomprehensibly before you hear the unmistakable sound of a match strike. She trails off for a moment before you hear the buzz of radio chatter. There's a clamor on the other end while the radio changes hands. A soft voice calls out, concerned. A creak, Logan shifts in her seat. There's a ruckus as Igata presumably attempts to snuff her cigarette. How does she say her name? Is it Igata? I think it's Igata. I just made that up right now, but I think that's what it sounds like to me. Thank you, Samma, for saving my hekeester. I'm gonna go back and record that in this big, nice blank spot that I left for myself for no reason, because I was puzzling over whether to include something or not. Here, Sherman, sit silently for 30 seconds, deep in thought. I'm doing just fine, Poopsie Kins. I want you to know that I love you bunches. Drap, there's no that. I was so close. Man, I'm doing just fine, Poopsie Kins. I want you to know I love you bunches. Lol, lol, presumably attempts to snuff her cigarette. Wait, she says her name earlier, right? I can just go back and look at that. This is Dr. Logan, Igata. Go into the other recording, the other recording, the other recording. I gotta move the camera, because it's in front of my dashboard, so I can't see all the way back to the beginning. Let's see what we got. Not that far, still got stuff to do. Did you hear me guess where it was correctly on the first try? What? What, how did I do that? I don't know, it's a Halloween miracle. I wasted my Halloween miracle, but it was still pretty cool. What are the odds out of a 25 minute recording that I would pick the exact moment that she said the line I needed her to say? Halloween miracle, booyah. Okay, anyways. Okay, Igata. I gotta what? I gotta pee. What? Crude, crude, crude. There's a ruckus as Igata presumably attempts to snuff her cigarette. Good, good, I rule, I did it, aha. Ari doesn't sound convinced. That is obviously you not sounding convinced. So that, I don't need to say that. You can practically hear Igata smiling as she jokes. I mean, I can hear you smiling in your voice, so that's fine. Ari responds with a feigned laugh, got it. Ari replies, duh. A moment of silence that a mat strike followed by an audible exhale. So exhale, exhale, exhale. Anyways. So mat strike, so that'll be sound. Pause, exhale. She waits a beat before ending transmission. I'm gonna say she waits a beat before ending transmission. I think that's a good idea. She waits a beat before ending the transmission. Access file, SCP-001, revision number five slash 12. Incident report appended. Oh no, no, why? Why did I do this? I am dumb, now I have to go back and fix it. Drap. I've been saying three slash 12 and five slash 12. That's stupid. It's obviously supposed to be revision number three of 12. Five of 12. Ah, why? Why? Sherman, think a little bit, think a little bit. Incident report slash 12. So let's mute that, we don't need that. I'm a larky. Revision number five of 12. Revision number five of 12. God, I am so smart. I am so smart. SMRT, I mean S-M-A-R-T. And gotta go back and find that three of 12 now. Good lordy. Going back a little farther. Humanity may still have a future. Nope, not far enough. Revision number three, newer revisions can be accessed at the bottom of this page. Access file, SCP-001, revision number three slash 12. Revision number three of 12. Revision number three of 12. Humanity may still have a future. Nope, friggin, God, you got me, Panko, you got me. I am a cynical monster who does not believe humanity has hope. Access granted in three slash 12 updated. Mute all revision three of 12 updated. Cool. Okay, thankfully I figured that out way sooner and I don't have to go back and fix all those things. All those things. So now we are incident report appended. Jesus, I'm only up to like section, I've only finished the first section of this and I've already got seven minutes of recording stuff. Oy, yai, yai. Okay, so we're gonna keep on rolling. That is revision three of 12, so now we're on to revision five of 12. Incident report appended. Incident report appended. By the way guys, I'm just warning you, this is probably gonna be a two-parter skip dictation life because I see so many things to record and I have to work eventually today. So I'll come back and do more recording of this later. So now access granted, access granted. Revision five of 12 updated, 1,200, two days ago. No changes submitted, information collapsed. No changes submitted, information collapsed. Open attached file, incident report 001.1. Access granted, access file, SCP-001 revision, eight of 12. Nope, I didn't have a space in that before. Drat, access file. Man, I like that section, I didn't have to do anything. That was amazing. Okay, continuing on. Access file, SCP-001 revision, number eight of 12. One attachment, access granted. Revision eight of 12 updated, 1,200 days ago. No changes submitted, information collapsed. No changes submitted, information collapsed. Open attached file, video file. Access granted, you see her for the first time. Dr. Agata is seated where you are right now. She has a pained look, her eyes are bloodshot. A large, wet, red, black blotch has formed on her breast pocket. She draws a suck. Bang. Large, wet, a large, wet round. That'll be a, that'll be the thousand subscriber bonus is a speed run session marathon where we go for like several hours and do, okay, so I'm gonna finish my statement which is speed running as many skips as we can in a certain amount of time recording and then I'll just edit them all later. But that'd be cool, like speed running skip readings. Also, Samma, ah, thank you. Thank you for finding my mistake where I was not paying attention. Drat, you got me, you got me. Okay, so 1,200 is not 1,200. Ah, why Sherman, why? At least it was very close. At least it was very close. Access P001 revision number attachments. Nope, that's not the right section. Backing up, backing up, backing up, backing up. So I can find where I messed it up. Days ago, no changes submitted, lapsed, gained inst, open attached file, incident report 001.1, access granted. Access file, SCP001 revision number 8 of 12, one attachment. Access granted, revision 8 of 12 updated, 1200 days ago. Well, that was very close there. Thanks, thanks, thanks for that. All right, go to the end, make sure I'm not cutting anything by getting rid of this. Nope, I don't need to get rid of this. Mute, 1,200 days ago. Awesome. Thank you, Samma. Three days ago. Good work, Lieutenant. Good work. Don't forget to crash the ship. Okay, you see her for the first time. Agata, large, wet, red, black blotch has formed on her breast pocket. Blotch has formed on her breast pocket. She draws a shuddering breath, parts her lips as if to speak and stops herself. She bows her head and cries silently. After a minute, she manages to choke out. She reaches into her breast pocket and withdraws a finger. The glint of a wedding ring is visible above the severed portion. She holds it close in cupped hands and runs a thumb across the glimmering band. She sits like this for an eternity, whispering apology after apology, begging forgiveness, lost in the moment. She looks up after some time. There's a look of realization when she realized she's still recording. Nope, that's not the line. That's not the line. You are not cool yet. Make better art up after some time. She looks up after some time. There's a look of realization when she sees she's still recording. There's a look of realization when she sees she's still recording. I have to say that so hard that, there's a look of realization when she sees she's still recording before she places the digit back into her pocket. Man, that's a semi-colon. Drat, drat. Cool, okay, do it again. There's a look of realization. What, why did I do that? No. There's a look of realization when she sees she's still recording before she places the digit back in her pocket. She leans forward as if to turn off the camera when a radio crackles to life. It broadcasts white noise for a few seconds and then a voice that sets you on edge. It's Ari, almost. Her voice has taken on the disgusting, gurgling tone characteristic of the affected. Logan's jaw drops. What little color that was left in her face drains. It speaks out again. Logan rummages behind. That's the sound you make when you try and say behind, but then it's actually the word is beneath. Yes, less back problems, it's right here. And the next goal is to get a swiveling chair so that I don't cripple myself anymore. Ah, back, stretches, stretching it out. Rawr, nine and a half minutes of recording. It speaks out again. Logan rummages beneath the desk for a moment and produces a handheld radio. Her hands are shaking. The thing implores her. It's inhuman speech curdles your stomach. Logan is in tears, her finger hovering just above the call button. The Ari thing draws a deep, wet breath and speaks. Logan withdraws a cigarette with her free hand followed by a pack of matches. Her shaking thwarts the first two attempts to light it. She swears silently. Third time's the charm and she inhales a quarter of it in a single drag. The Ari thing continues. Logan begins rocking back and forth. Logan hurls the radio across the room. It smashes somewhere off camera. It's still somewhat operational. You can still hear the things singing. More voices join in the chorus as the radio slowly loses life. A few, a dozen, then more. They continue singing until the radio mercifully dies. Logan rushes out of her chair and you can hear her vomiting off screen. The video films the empty seat for several minutes before she returns to end the feed. All right, so I've recorded that and then I've recorded that but I know that Samma has the crazy freaking stacks of singing. So I'm gonna figure out exactly what fits better when it comes to that narration because we're gonna have like creepy voices singing and it's really disturbing. Bluh. So we'll go, we'll figure out how to cut that. Ooh, okay, full prose section. It's my turn, all me, no girls, ha ha, ha ha. I don't like that. I have to do more work. What am I talking about? All right, I'm up to 11 minutes of recording though so I'm no slouch, I still got stuff. Okay, here we go. That's what you get, that's what you get. No, Pinko, don't activate the cootie zone. The SCP fandom is like 10% girls maximum. We need as many as we can get. Something isn't right. A lingering paranoid sensation washes over you. You're being watched. You defensively dart your eyes about though they take a second to adjust to the darkness beyond the monitor. The emergency light sweeps across the room stretching and twisting the shadows beyond recognition. That's when you spot it. There, in the corner, coming out of the puddle. Time slows to a halt. A pair of hands coated in the lustrous black slime you follow through the facility are on either side of the sickening pool as if something beneath the floor is bracing itself trying to lift itself up. Something inhuman. The head comes next rising from the muck. Madded hair conceals its face plastered over it by the mystery fluid. It turns in your direction. It stares at you from the corner which once again falls into darkness. The emergency light continues its journey across the room. It washes over the puddle again revealing nothing out of the ordinary. And by the way, when I mentioned demographically that the fandom is like 10% girls, that's only the viewership for my channel. So I don't know the actual SCP demographics. That was mainly a joke based on the fact that girls don't like my channel. All forever alone, oh no. Anywho, clarification of jokes. Not being a douchebag. Don't even know how I was a douchebag. Probably a douchebag. Usually a douchebag. Okay. Was that 106? Or was that like a hallucination to 106? Not sure. Access file, SCP-001 revision number 9 of 12, one attachment. Access granted. Revision 9 of 12 updated 986 days ago. No changes submitted, information collapsed. Open attachment. Access granted. Dr. Igata appears on the monitor. She's lost weight. Her eyes are bloodshot and wide. On the table before her lay a knife, a bowl, and a stack of Manila envelopes filled with yellowing pages. Atop this stack is a bloodstained parchment. She grabs the knife, contemplates it for a moment. With this, she slices into the palm of her left hand and winces. You watch her clench her, you watch her clench her fist, draining her blood into the bowl. You watch her clench her, you watch her clench her. Cool, we got that. We got that. We got that. We got that. We got that. We got that. Okay, so formatting, weird thing. This actually does not have no changes submitted on the containment procedures, and it doesn't have it on the description. The attachment does not say video file like the last video file did. I wonder if that's a formatting error that could be fixed, like a typo in the article. Either way, in my recording, I'm probably gonna fix it so that the video file is there the same way it was above. That way it's, because I think it's just omitted because now you're assuming it's a video file, but I think it should still be there. It's a video file. But anyways, oh God, oh God. Oh, I got a YouTube update, the terrible writing advice channel just uploaded a survival horror video. That guy's hilarious. It's terrible writing advice. Go check out his channel. He's like a million times more popular than me and he does not mean me like pumping him, but he's amazing. Like, it's great. It's funny because it's sarcastic, but also you learn things about writing that makes your writing better. Go team. It's like, as a creative writing community, the SCP people can probably play with that and it's fun. All right, moving on. Oh God, this is the data error. Everything's horrible. Let's do this. Access file, SCP-001, revision number 17. Oh God. Okay, I gotta figure out how to say this now. 17. Because this is a data error. This is not good. Oh, you stop, you monster. Everything is wonderful. We are free now, monster gross. Ah, rah, rah. 001. All right, revision number, revision number. Is there a shorter way to say exclamation point? Like a one word version. I feel like there's a thesaurus thing for that. Like exclamation point has another name that's a little more like technical and that name like means, like for some reason I have a word like superlative but that's not the word. It's not declarative. Anyways, I think because this is like a data error, I'm just, I'm not gonna say a bunch of numbers. Oh wait, I can say a bunch of numbers and then I can stack them. I can do layers like Samma did and then it'll glitch in data error. So let's start with the general. Revision number, one, seven, exclamation point, two, four, data error. And I'll, blitz, blitz, blitz, blitz, blitz, glitchy sounds. And then I'll do the computer typing sounds because every time I've said access granted, it's been like data access blah, blah, blah, access granted, blah, blah, blah, blah, tap, tap, tap, access granted. So this is gonna be data error, tap, tap, tap. Hide from me. Oh, it's gonna be gross. It's gonna be gross. Gross, gross, gross, gross. All right, let's leave that on a separate layer. That way I don't misplace it. So now, revision number 4,847 out of this. I don't know why I did that. That's not what I wanted to do. I just wanted to say the word error. All right, continuing on, continuing on, continuing on. Ah, this is so gross. This is so gross. You guys are gross. You guys are awful. So, moving on. There's a video file attached. There's a video file attached. Opening it, you see that it presents the room you're in. The feed seems to be coming from one of the security cameras up in the corner of the room. It's dark, but you can just make out Dr. Igata laying on a pile of laundry along the far wall. She's writhing in her sleep. She seems tormented, hurt. She's tossing and turning and mumbling nonsense words. The camera shakes. It lifts upwards for a moment before it focuses on her again. It starts moving closer, slowly. The speakers come to life, picking up an airy, breathy static. As the camera moves closer to the doctor, it becomes clearer, crisper. It's not merely white noise, but dozens, hundreds of voices whispering unintelligibly over each other. You lean in, press your ear almost against the speaker, trying to discern what it is that's being said. Something strange stands out amidst the discordance. You're not quite sure what to make of it, though. Looking back at the monitor, the camera has come to a halt inches away from the sleeping doctor. The voices stop. There is no sound. A hand, black and oily and skeletal, reaches out for her, brushes away a lock of hair. Her eyes shoot open. She recoils in shock. The feed cuts out. I see you take a breath. Woo! All right, that was a good hit. That was a good run. We did good there, kids. Tackin' it on, tackin' tackin' it on. We're up to 15 minutes of recording. Access SCP-001, revision number 12 of 12, one attachment. Access granted. File recovered from previous revision. Information collapsed. File recovered from previous revision. Information collapsed. Open attachment. Access granted. Dr. Agata, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba, ba. That's all right. I didn't want to say words. Words are for suckers. Who uses words? Suckers, that's who. Dr. Agata appears before you on the screen, looking even worse for wear than she did previously. Her hair is thinning. I heard a gross sound. Put that back. But then she did before. Even worse for wear than she did before. Than she did previously. Her hair is thinning, with large swaps appearing absent from the middle of her head. If they weren't reflecting the soft glow of the monitor, you would have assumed she no longer had eyes for how deep they'd recessed into her skull. She stares ahead, unblinking. Her lips crack into a broken grin. She lets out a weak laugh and displays her trembling hands. What appears to be the mostly skeletal remains of a finger is embedded into the flesh of her left hand in the stump that would have supported her natural ring finger. In the stump that would have su- Muuh! In the stump, flesh of her left hand, of her left hand. In the stump that would have supported her natural ring finger. Two wedding bands, loosely encircled the digit. Drat, there's no space there. Why would I? Two wedding bands, son of a bee. Make better art. Two wedding bands, loosely encircled the digit, laying atop one another. Something catches her attention off-screen. She cocks her head, listening. She begins rubbing her temples, repeating herself over and over again. A minute passes. She snaps her head back up and addresses the camera. She brandishes a handgun. She opens the desk drawer and... I don't like how I said the word drawer. She opens the desk drawer. She opens the desk drawer and deposits the firearm. She raises her gaze, stares into the camera. She reaches forward and ends the recording. That's horrible. Did it have to end like that? You open the drawer and pull out the gun. You absentmindedly turn it over in your hands for a moment, wondering where you'll go from here. Site 17, 64? Surely you can't be all that's left. The computer dings. There's been an update to the file. Access SCP-001. Current iteration updated one minute ago. Access granted. Without your prompting, the page begins playing a video file. You freeze when the image loads. It's a live feed looking down on you from behind, about a foot away. A skeletal, inky left hand enters the frame, approaching you at a snail's pace. It's missing its ring finger. Without a second thought, you turned in fire in a frenzy. Not turn, without a second thought. You turned in fire, turn and fire, not turned and fire. It's not past tense, Sherman. It's not past tense. Missing its ring finger. It's missing its ring finger. Without a second thought, you turn and fire in a frenzy. Without a second thought, you turn and fire in a frenzy, hoping to drive off the specter. Your bullet meets an empty wall. There's nothing there. A second passes before you hear it. Before you hear them. Sloshing, wet thuds coming down the corridor, accompanied by a chorus of screams. It slams into the door. Could there be a place to hide? It strikes a second time. What appears to be a face, part human, part something, dribbles in under the frame. Bits of flesh from God knows what oozes in through the sides and reconstitutes into fingers, eyes, feathers. A third, now it's pressing up against the wood, causing it to sag inwards. With a groan and a crash, the wood splinters. The door explodes open. Hands and arms stretch out of the mass, pulling you up, passing you from one to the next, on and on down the line. They drag you past the empty containment units, upwards and through the stairwell, through the halls and towards the tunnel. You're afforded a few precious moments in the darkness. And at the end of the tunnel, there's light. Holy cow, I didn't know we were gonna make it, but we made it. Woo, we made it to the end. We recorded all the man voices. And it only took a little over an hour. That's fantastic. Okay, we did it. That's amazing. Yes. Hello, Togam Septics. You joined in the conversation at the very last minute. So, welcome and glad you made it for this section. We just finished the man's part, the men's parts and the computer parts, or I guess the narration. It doesn't have to be a man part. It's a man part because I'm doing it, but it's the man part because I'm doing it. So we got the man part. We got the man part of SCP-001, SDLock's proposal, When Day Breaks. This has a lot of titles. And in 63 minutes, we recorded 19 minutes of stuff, which we're gonna blend with the 24 minutes of stuff that Sam and Courtney put together, meaning we have somewhere around 45 minutes for this show. And to be honest, one day, so right now, amazingly, Site 42 has like what, 500 something subscribers? Let me get that number real quick. Pull up my YouTube studio since I'm done recording. I'm done recording. Oh God, save it. Save it now, save as. Don't forget, 001, boy. So now I have 001 girls and 001 boy. So right now, Site 42 is sitting at 516 subscribers. And the audio recordings are going well. The video essays are going well, or I guess the podcast essays on a video platform. Eh, but this one, this one would make a riveting freaking movie. This would be a riveting episode of television. And I want to get my boys together out here in California. And I need two actresses, and I need Kronenberg-esque goo monsters. And I need whatever that inky black thing is. But really, this would be amazing as a film. This would be so cool. You have the protagonist in their full-like garb, so you don't need to see who they are the entire time, because that's you in your brain. I mean, yeah, they'd have a protagonist unless we did it like first person, and I don't really want to go first person. But like the logs, you'd have video logs of Agata, and you'd have her on the radio with Ari, and it would be gross and terrifying, and you'd see her descent into madness, and you'd see it. This is doable. It's just that I need way more of an actual budget for this channel to make something crazy like that. I have the plans, I need the means. So final mission statement. We're doing this audio recording. Get us to frickin' hundreds of thousands of subscribers, like Jim O'Don and Tats have, and we'll start making live-action movies of this. And it'll be amazing. Live-action SCPs, what? So build up the channel. We need to sell merch and get Patreon donors, and we will make this happen. So support the channel, do all those things. Help us make awesome SCP content things. We're gonna make all the things. It's gonna be amazing. It's gonna be huge, whatever. On that, check out the links below for Merch Store, Patreon, and blah blah blah Discord server. That way you can hang out more with Site 42 people. Thank you guys for tuning in, especially those of you who made it the entire time. And we are a wrap. I'm gonna save this, and I'll probably start editing it later today after my first shift at work, because this is going to be amazing. So you guys, have a good afternoon, evening, wherever you are. See you next time, Foundation staff. Camera's got a giant hand. Giant hand.