Item #: SCP-████

Object Class: Keter

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-████ is to be contained within an inconspicuous decoy neighborhood at Site-██ located in ██. The chamber must be constructed to SCP-████s liking, allowing SCP-████ to ████ █ ███ in order to decorate as deemed fit. A familial unit of kind souls are in place to monitor SCP-████ and are trained to prevent accidental manifestation events.

All personnel interacting with SCP-████ have undergone psychological evaluations before and after exposure. SCP-████ has the odd tendency of improving the moral of all of those who have had direct interaction, resulting in a higher score in the evaluation post-engagement. Despite this phenomenon all site personnel are required to be accompanied by the deployment of covert members of MTF Psi-9 ("Heartbreakers").

Description: SCP-████, colloquially referred to as "Joe," appears as an average, attractive male in his late twenties, approximately [REDACTED] ft in height, with short brown hair, [REDACTED] eyes, and a notably symmetrical facial structure. SCP-████ exudes a mild, non-anomalous charm that leads most human subjects to perceive him as approachable and trustworthy.

However, at random intervals ranging from [REDACTED] to [REDACTED] hours, SCP-████ undergoes a violent transformation (designated SCP-████-B) into a creature resembling a hybrid between Ursus arctos (grizzly bear) and classical depictions of a minotaur. During this state, SCP-████ reaches an estimated height of 3.4m and displays immense physical strength, capable of breaching reinforced concrete within [REDACTED] seconds.

Despite its grotesque appearance in SCP-████-B form, the entity exhibits a peculiar behavioral anomaly: it begins to vocalize distorted renditions of human love songs, often from various decades and genres, though all selections share recurring themes of longing for romance. The songs are performed at dangerously high decibel levels, leaving any women within a radius of [REDACTED] miles in a brain-washed and love-fueled stupor, trotting mindlessly to the location of SCP-████-B.

Subjects within a [REDACTED] mile radius during SCP-████-B events report the inexplicable desire to "comfort" the entity, causing them to seek it out. Extended exposure beyond 7 minutes results in subjects attempting to physically interact with SCP-████, often leading to [REDACTED].

It seems that upon returning to human form SCP-████ does not retain any memory of these events.

Note from Dr. J Ryan:
"There’s something deeply tragic about Joe, even in his... altered state. Underneath all the muscle and the teeth, there’s a thing that just... wants to love so. But that doesn’t make it any less dangerous. Yearning is a powerful and heartfelt act — and in Joe’s case, it’s manifested itself as some form of monster."