Item #: SCP-737
Object Class: Euclid
Special Containment Procedures: SCP-737-1 must be contained in a completely soundproof room locked by electronic lock. Anyone wishing to research SCP-737-1 must petition Dr. ████████ for access. Provided in the room shall be one chair, one music stand, a standard violin, a sheaf of notebook paper, a sheaf of paper with musical staffs printed, and a supply of pens and pencils.
Description: SCP-737-1 resembles a standard violin bow. Chemical analysis has determined the "stick" of the bow to be made out of █████ wood, and the "hair" out of sinew from an unknown animal. The "eye" of the "frog" changes approximately every hour. Thus far, all eyes have been made out of unidentifiable materials. SCP-737-1 can be taken apart, but loses its unique properties when sections are installed in other bows.
Anyone who remains in the same room at SCP-737-1, after a period of a half hour, will begin to manifest desire to begin composing music. As time progress, the musical skill of their compositions will increase at an exponential rate. However, test subjects will be dissatisfied with the result of their compositions, and immediately begin working on a new piece. After two hours, test subjects will ignore physical needs and outside stimuli. Removing test subjects from the room containing SCP-737-1 and restraining them for an equal time to their exposure will eliminate both the desire to make music, though any musical knowledge and skill gained will remain. The effect of SCP-737-1 is cumulative, so researchers must be careful to log the amount of time spent in the room.
After being under the effect of SCP-737-1 for a total of four hours, all subjects will begin working on an identical piece of music, SCP-737-2. At this point, removing the subject, regardless of restrained time, will have no effect. Test subjects will struggle to free themselves in order to get to any paper and writing utensil. Completion of SCP-737-2 takes another four hours. After the piece is finished, test subjects will find the largest audience they can, and attempt to play SCP-737-2 with SCP-737-1. However, attempts to play the music on any stringed instrument will result in silence, despite vibration of the strings. Subjects will then remove the skin from their non-dominant forearm, and play the piece on their muscles. Only then will the subject be able to successfully perform the music. Despite blood loss and pain, subjects will continue to play until they expire. As soon as this happens, SCP-737-2 will disintegrate. Any attempts to photograph or otherwise record SCP-737-2 have met in failure. The only verifiable information about SCP-737-2 is the composition's title: ████████ █████ ████████. SCP-737-2 has never been performed for more than one fourth of it's completed length.
Any person who hears the music will begin to work on the same piece as soon as the performer expires, as if they had been under the effect of SCP-737-1 for four hours. When forced to respond while the music is being preformed, audience members have claimed "It is the perfect piece of music" and "It is the sound of everything." Due to this infectious nature, all personnel who wish to observe a performance of SCP-737-2 should wear soundproof headphones. Attempts to play back recorded versions of SCP-737-2 have only played static.
SCP-737 was recovered after a boy from █████████, Michigan, was found dead with the bow in his hand. The removed skin from his arm makes it obvious that he was attempting to play the piece. When questioned, the mother said he had returned with the bow after purchasing it from a local pawn shop. However, no pawn shops were located anywhere within a 50 mile radius of the town. Within a week of the incident, the mother began denying she ever claimed there was a pawn shop.