SCP-3939-64

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scp.jpg

SCP-3939 photographed prior to containment.

Item #: SCP-3939

Object Class: Safe

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-3939 is currently kept at Site-39 in pre-containment holding cell C (39-PC01-C). When not in testing it is to be kept in a standard containment locker of appropriate size.

SCP-3939 is to be removed from pre-containment as soon as possible.

Description: SCP-3939 is a gramophone, or record player, of unknown date of origin but consistent with design and manufacturing trends of the 1930s. It has an octagonal wooden base constructed of polished mahogany and is imprinted with the logo of HMV at the time. Atop this base is a turntable which is connected to the gramophone mechanism and a large brass horn. All components are in good condition.

SCP-3939 currently has a black vinyl record on the turntable, which is turning at a standard rate despite no visible source of power.

Further examination is pending.

Your family had a record player when you were much, much younger. As a child, you loved the thing. You spent hours keeping it clean and functional, polishing the plastic cover and wooden base… when your family had to sell it, you cried. So you have an intimate understanding of what a record player is, and a gramophone is just a slightly older record player.

Given all that time spent cleaning the vinyl discs, it feels so wrong to reach out and consciously spread the grease from your fingers onto it, but you do it anyway. It's easier than going to find latex gloves.

You're immediately taken back to your childhood. It's not a memetic influence, just normal memory. The feel of the records in your hand. The ridges in the vinyl invoke feelings you've not felt for years.

This particular record is peculiarly undamaged. No matter how hard you try, you can't stop or slow it down. The needle just keeps dragging along it — and you can't move that, either.

You notice that the record is perfectly smooth. There's no music written into it. No little changes in the pattern for the needle to read — just perfect concentric rings.

On second inspection, looking closer, you see that there are actually some grooves written into it. But it's strange — even though the record keeps rotating, they never quite reach the needle, always stuck on the far side.

Interesting.

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