Item #: SCP-1985
Object Class: Safe
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-1985 is to be kept in a sealed, sound-proof 4m x 3m room, with a ceiling 2.5m high; empty, save for a SCP-1985 itself and a small shelf on which SCP-1985 rests. SCP-1985 is to be kept shut and unwound when not in use.
Because of the potentially harmful nature of SCP-1985, experimentation on SCP-1985 may only be performed with prior permission from at least (1) Level 3 Site Director. Any unauthorized experimentation with SCP-1985 by Level 0 - 2 personnel is not permitted.
Description: SCP-1985 is a simple oak-cased music box, approximately 16 cm long, weighing 2 kg. An expert has dated it to the late 1890's. The wood appears to have been refinished at some point in its existence. Manufacturer unknown, though an iron plaque on the back of SCP-1985 reads, simply, 'Linda'. Whether this is the name of the manufacturer or of the original owner is not known.
All of the inner workings of SCP-1985 are intact and completely functional, albeit quite tarnished.
SCP-1985 came into the possession of Dr. ██████ when it was demonstrated at an antique road show, resulting in [DATA EXPUNGED] and administration of Class-B amnesiacs to all surviving attendees.
When wound, SCP-1985 is reported to play a wordless, seemingly unremarkable song much like any other music box. Class-D personnel exposed directly to music played by SCP-1985 immediately began to sing along, regardless of whether or not they had heard this music before. Indirect exposure to SCP-1985's music, such as listening to a recording of it, has no noticeable effect on the listener.
The words of the song sung by test subject Class-D personnel are always as follows:
February wind is blowing,
The birds fly out to see the rain;
The field mouse lies his head down, knowing
Tomorrow he will rise again.
Class-D personnel exposed directly to SCP-1985's music begun to interrupt their own singing to complain of 'a headache' after around six minutes of continued exposure. After approximately thirteen minutes, the test subject will collapse, either dead or dying. Scans of test subject corpses have revealed large portions of brain to be full of holes, as if a corrosive substance has been poured on it. Those who have seen the scans often refer to this as 'swiss cheese'.
As of ██/██/20██, testing on SCP-1985 has been put to a halt indefinitely. All requests to examine or experiment with SCP-1985 will be automatically declined until further notice.