Chapter Text
"Just get in, find the damn research papers and get out, it is as simple as that,” you mutter to yourself as you hurried through the corridors of the Foundation's research facility. Your destination? A specific containment unit, or more precisely the observation room adjacent to it. The facility staff you passed paid you no mind, after all you were just one of the countless assistants working for the doctors of the facility, helping them out in their research.
“I’ll be completely fine. He probably won't even notice me, after all I'm just a simple assistant and not worth his time,” you reassure yourself underneath your breath. Yeah, unless you are afflicted by the pestilence.
You get few amused glances from senior staff members who notice the slightly startled and anxious look in your eyes. They had probably seen that same look of dread on countless new comers' faces, after all, it was hard not to feel scared when entering an area with a dangerous SCP all alone. Your SCP in question? SCP-049, the plague doctor who sought to rid the world of the great pestilence, and who had killed doctor Hamm and turned him into SCP-049-2 instance.
After finishing your orientation lectures, you had quickly been assigned to this facility's research staff, working as an assistant underneath handful of doctors, Raymond Hamm included. For a good while, you had only dealt with objects classified as “Safe”, including objects like SCP-714, the jade ring. However, you had quickly gained clearances to assist in the euclid class research and shortly after that, SCP-049 had been brought in for containment and study.
You’d never forget the first time you had seen the humanoid, intelligent and extremely deadly entity working behind the reinforced glass window. Prior to taking part in the research of 049, you had only dealt with inanimate objects, even if some of them arguably seemed to have a will of their own. Still, seeing a living, dangerous SCP had been both fascinating and utterly intimidating.
What made 049 even more unsettling was how polite and well mannered he was for a being who killed and turned his victims into mindless zombie like creatures. He looked and talked like a human, yet there was something very uncanny about him.
Despite trying to be diligent, at times you had found yourself staring at the doctor's work and whenever he spoke, you couldn't help but listen to that soft voice somewhat mesmerized.
You soon find yourself standing in front of a heavy metal door that led in to the observation room. You brace yourself and take few deep breaths before swiping your security card through the reader beside the door. The panel reads “access granted” and the door slides silently open, allowing you to enter the observation room.
“Remember, you are not authorized to speak or interact with SCP-049 in any way. Besides, he’ll most likely just rave about you being sick, infected by this so called “pestilence”. Just get my stuff and get back here,” the doctor had told you. Not only was the said doctor rude and full of himself, but he also held little to no respect towards the beings the foundation had contained at the research site. At times you really missed doctor Hamm who had not treated you like his personal slave.
You step inside the dark room with one wall made partly from reinforced glass, behind which lied the plague doctor's containment cell. The door closes automatically behind you shortly after you enter, sealing you inside the dark observation room.
Your heart starts to beat slightly faster and you can feel the familiar touch of dread take hold of you. It is so quiet, with only the humming of the machinery and sound of someone writing on a paper chasing away the unbearable silence.
You can not help but gaze into the containment unit before turning on the lights, and as expected, you see the euclid class being safely inside his cell.
The masked plague doctor was sitting at a metal desk with his heavy medical journal resting on the table. The SCP was reading through his research notes, writing down a remark or two in the margin of the paper every now and then. Apparently the Foundation had been kind enough to let him keep his journals.
At least he has something to read, you think, feeling almost bad for the dangerous plague doctor who could not work on his “cure” that was his life's work. Though, considering how he had expressed his desire to use living humans as test subjects, perhaps it was for the best. Still, it was not hard to feel some sympathy towards the creature who genuinely seemed to want to help others.
You sigh in relief when the SCP either doesn't notice your presence, or just doesn't care.
I better hurry before I get criticized for taking too long, you ponder before sneaking quietly over to the huge desk that was resting against the back wall and the windowed wall besides it.
You don’t notice how the SCP-049 suddenly halts writing, lifting his gaze slowly up from his journal. He slowly turns his masked face towards you and tilts his head ever so slightly to the side when he sees you skulking through the dimly lit observation room to rummage through the papers and the numerous drawers. The doctor stands up without making a sound and starts heading towards the window.
You can't help but sigh wearily as you skim through some of the more recent research papers considering 049. Lately, only few researchers had done interviews with the plague doctor and it really started to look like the research had hit a wall. It was starting to become clear there wasn't much more they could learn about the plague doctor and resources were being pulled from the study and put in better use.
It really started to look like 049 was going to be held in containment indefinitely.
There had been reports of strange activity in the vicinity of one facility with a suspicion of a Keter class being residing somewhere in the area. All able personnel had been pulled into the search and study of it, leaving many SCPs with minimal monitoring. The thought of something like that being transported here was most unnerving.
“Where is that flash drive?? Is he certain he left it here?” you mutter again as you continue your search, not noticing the approaching figure whose long and dark shadow soon enough looms over you.
“There you are,” you whisper victoriously when you finally find the flash drive and the file you had been sent to retrieve , allowing you finally to leave the observation room and return to that slave driver doctor.
However, just when you are about to turn around and leave, you hear eerie familiar voice say.
“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”
You freeze, finally noticing the tall shadowy figure that was standing on the other side of the window, his dark shadow cast over your form. Paralyzing fear takes hold of your body as you slowly lift your gaze up from the research papers to see the black robed SCP with a white mask towering over you, his eyes fixated on your’s.
For a fleeting moment, you completely forget that he can’t touch you through the glass and get startled, quickly backing away a couple of steps with shocked look on your face. Somehow you manage to maintain your balance and contain the small scream of terror that almost escapes your lips.
The plague doctor seemed rather amused by your reaction, eying you up and down curiously.
“Ah, I startled you, my apologies, it was not my intention,” SCP-049 said, his voice calm and tone most polite.
When you realize that you are not in danger, you quickly regain your composure and try to relax a bit, despite it feeling like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.
I should just go, you think, looking around the room in rather unsure manner; most likely your conversation was being filmed by at least one security camera.
The doctor's words about you not being authorized to talk with 049 echoed in your mind, but it felt just so rude to leave without at least greeting him. Despite being a dangerous euclid class SCP, the plague doctor was still a sentient and intelligent being who could be so reasonable and cordial when not in the presence of pestilence.
Does he ever get lonely? Most likely not, but one couldn’t help but feel some sympathy towards the creature who had been denied his freedom and work.
After a moment of hesitation, you take few steps closer towards the SCP who patiently waited for you to decide your next course of action.
Even with the reinforced glass between you and the doctor, you couldn’t shake off the aura of intimidation and eeriness the SCP had around him. He was uncanny and you couldn't help but wonder if he had face at all underneath that mask.
“It...it is alright, you just move so quietly,” you reply softly and pocket the flash drive before picking up the file containing the requested research papers. “I’m not sure introductions are needed, I'm just an assistant to the doctors and the senior researchers in this facility.”
The plague doctor like SCP studies you long and hard, as if trying to remember something.
“I do recall seeing you among the researchers, you....ah yes, now I remember. You were doctor Hamm’s assistant,” 049 says and the fact that he remembered you made a shiver run down your spine.
It felt extremely eerie to have an SCP you had never before spoken to recall you, especially when half of the doctors you worked for couldn't even remember your name. Hell, some of the researchers didn't have any recollection of ever meeting you, despite having talked with them more than twice. While you knew they were occupied with things like Keter level dangers, it was still very infuriating to be someone not worth remembering.
“Always working so diligently and not gawking at or criticizing my work like the rest of them just because you can't fully comprehend the nature of the great pestilence...Yes, most professional.”
You swallow and nod at SCP-049. You knew it was in your best interest to just leave, but...your legs refused to move, as if they were rooted to the floor. The intrigue was slowly getting stronger than the dread that still lingered with you.
For some reason you can't help but recall how you had one time spotted the deadly SCP watching you from behind the glass with a scalpel in his hand, distracted by something in you while working on a dead animal.
Perhaps it was how you had once tried to reason with some senior research staff members who had expressed their strong opinions about the doctor's cure while observing his work. You recall asking them if the pestilence could be something modern medicine couldn't pick up yet, but they had just laughed at you, telling you how “cute” it was of you to think there was some rhyme or reason to the SCP's work when there was none to be found.
Did he hear that conversation?
“Yes, I did work for Dr. Hamm until...” you pause, trying to find the right words.
From all the interviews you had learned that accusing the plague doctor of killing someone was of no use. He had been absolutely convinced Dr. Hamm had fallen to the pestilence and thus his actions had been justified.
049's determination and unwavering belief in the pestilence was almost enough to leave one convinced that there had really been something wrong with the now deceased man, despite all evidence showing otherwise. For a while, you too had found yourself wondering whether you were afflicted by this insidious sickness.
“Until he got sick with pestilence and you cured him,” you finish and somehow, you can swear you can see the SCP’s eyes light up slightly behind the mask. He seemed rather pleased by your answer.
Everyone else just accused him of murdering a perfectly healthy man, so it had to be refreshing to meet someone who at least seemingly agreed with him. They were unable to see see that what he had done had been mercy. They...they had not seen how sick Dr.Hamm had become, how much he had suffered.
“A like minded individual, I knew you'd be,” the doctor replied, his voice so soft and calm; so very mesmerizing. “Yes, it is most unfortunate when a fellow colleague falls to the disease, but one must be swift and act without hesitation in the presence of this disease. It is an insidious thing...infiltrating even a place as clean as this,” SCP-049 explained and gestured with his hand towards the walls. “I eagerly wait for the day this foundation will let me resume my research, for the day they open their eyes to that which ails so many.”
“I fear that day might not come soon, after all your allowances were revoked indefinitely,” you find yourself saying, only to ponder your next choice of words for a moment. Perhaps a more positive and affirmative approach could yield better results with the doctor. “Unfortunately, I don’t think the Foundation understands the danger nor the nature of the pestilence. I’m sorry to say that even I don’t detect the sickness. I really wish I could, especially if it festers within these walls.”
The doctor stares at you, as if lost in his thoughts for a moment, tapping the beak of his mask a couple of times ponderously. He seemed rather intrigued by you, which in turn quickly makes you regret this approach.
“No, their inability to see the sickness that has taken root in this place is most vexing. In their short sightedness, they declare my cure as evil, just because they can't comprehend my work,” he says, sounding rather annoyed now, raising his voice ever so slightly as the anger got the better of him, only to calm down again when he sees you listening to his every word. “But...I am a professional and can admit my mistakes. I clearly haven't done my best to educate the Foundation, a mistake I'd like to correct. Unlike the rest of them, you are a person of science, not emotion. I’ve seen it, your determination in the face of this great affliction. Yes, there is still so much I can do. “
You can feel the fear and anxiety take a firm grip of your heart and mind, making it slightly harder for you to breathe. You didn't like where this was going one bit, but you found yourself unable to leave. Hell, you can't even break the eye contact despite wanting to.
“What exactly do you mean?” you ask, voice barely more than a whisper.
I need to leave, now, is all you can think, but somehow you just knew it was too late for that. There was no doubt someone was watching this.
The SCP-049 lets out a small and amused chuckle, tapping the glass with his finger a couple of times, the sound echoing eerily off the walls of the containment room.
“When I cured doctor Hamm. While the rest of these so called “doctors” denied my cure and disposed of my patient, you chose to watch and learn...staying calm and collected the whole time, studying and observing,” the SCP 049 whispered, his voice and words sending a shiver down your spine. “ If I could resume my work, I could help you truly understand the nature of the great pestilence. It needs to be cured and eradicated from the face of this world.”
Oh how wrong the plague doctor was.
You had been anything but calm and collected. That day you had been in utter state of shock and panic, unable to do anything because of the fear that had overwhelmed you.
You had been with the group that had found SCP-049 working on doctor Hamm who by then had been turned into a mindless creature. It had been such a horrifying and traumatizing sight, one you'd never be able to forget (though you had not tried amnestics yet). You recall how the doctor's bloody and partly mutilated reanimated body had flailed and groaned mindlessly on the medical table, stopping only when the security put a bullet into his head.
You had lifted your gaze from Hamm's now still corpse to see 049 staring at you intensely, studying your every reaction and expression, clearly curious and intrigued.
Those eyes behind the mask...they had given you nightmares for a week and had left you wondering if you had been afflicted by the pestilence, if he wanted to cure you as well. The flood of emotions varying from fear and sorrow to despair and anger had hit you only after returning to the staff quarters.
“I’m afraid I must decline your offer. I am simply not the right person,” you whisper politely but the SCP just seems amused by your reply, glancing at the video camera mounted on the corner of his containment room. He knew they were watching the exchange and his eyes gained a hint of smugness and even malice to them.
“Oh, do not worry about that. I don't think it is your decision. That is why I invite only you to learn and study, to see the pestilence...as my assistant, to see first hand what the affliction does to body and mind,” he said before leaning slightly closer to the glass, staring into your eyes that now reflect the terror you feel. “It would be such a shame to let that intrigue go to waste, don't you think?
Apparently the researchers and higher ups had quickly heard about your conversation with the plague doctor because within an hour, you were ordered into an meeting considering what should be done about the SCP's peculiar offer. It really looked like they were considering it because there were very high clearance members participating in the meeting via a conference call.
In short, you were in big trouble. You gaze was fixated on the table before you and no one really seemed to pay you much attention, despite this meeting being the result of your actions.
Arguments flew back and forth inside the room with two clear camps of opinion . One that thought it was a bad idea and the other that thought all data they could collect on the enigmatic SCP was needed before making any long term decisions considering the doctor. 049 had never before requested a Foundation member to be his assistant. Perhaps this could yield some useful information despite being risky and potentially life threatening to you.
“This is an excellent opportunity to learn more about that thing,” one doctor said. “We simply need more data.”
“This is not only a gross violation of safety procedures and protocol, but also highly dangerous and unethical. We’ve heard he wants to continue his research on living human beings. Most likely he will just kill his new “assistant” the moment they step inside that containment unit!” said another. “Like he killed doctor Hamm!”
“No, he “cured Hamm,” someone pointed out.
There was snickering in the room and you couldn't help but feel slightly ill. While dark humor was a coping mechanism that many seemed to prefer in presence of euclid and keter class SCPs, it still felt bad to think of how a good man like Hamm had died such a meaningless death in the hands of 049 and how people made fun of it.
The doctor's death had affected you more than you wanted to admit.
“You were not authorized to make any contact with SCP-049 and while admittedly he did initiate the conversation, you should have ignored him. Besides, your behavior and choice of words only encouraged that thing's actions.”
You stay silent for a moment, trying to decide your next choice of words very carefully. While humanity’s safety was in the Foundation’s best interest, they could be so very ruthless about their methods. You had no trouble believing that should they want to, those with power could easily find a way to throw you among the D-class personnel.
“I just thought a more sympathetic approach could yield more informative results,” you say quietly, starting to really fear that they’d allow the SCP-049 to use you as his assistant.
Why did I have to go and talk with him? I should have ignored him.
You couldn't get the image of the white masked doctor staring at you out of your mind.
I don't want to go anywhere near 049 ever again.
The bickering continued for a while longer, but slowly, the favor switched towards allowing SCP-049 have some of his allowances and privileges back and “letting” you participate in the research as his assistant. It this proved to be another useless experiment, then his containment would be clear.
“Are we honestly considering this? SCP-049 has clearly expressed his desire to work on living human test subjects. This is clearly just a ruse for that thing to get what he wants! With all due respect, the months we observed 049 provided no information, I don’t see how this would be any different,” one researcher said and you really wished she'd get more support, but the majority thought that this was worth the risk, considering you had “kinda brought it upon yourself”.
The plague doctor had directed his invitation only to you, having declared you to be his assistant in the fight against the pestilence.
“Lets ask our assistant here then,” said one of the higher ups that had joined via a conference call, his voice carrying authority and power, silencing everyone else effectively. This had to be someone very high up to have power over set procedures.
“Will you assist SCP-049 in his research?” the voice asked, addressing you for the first time.
You cannot help but feel bitter amusement.
Foundation asking my preference?
No, they just wanted to know whether you were going to step into the containment room willingly, or if they'd have to drag your screaming body into observation room and push you forcibly into the unit to help the good doctor with his research.
A life of a new assistant didn’t feel very valuable right now and you knew it was your best interest to comply.
“I serve the Foundation's goals."
Later you find yourself all alone inside the locker room with only flickering light keeping you company. In two days you were going to start as the SCP’s assistant and before that, you’d have to go through an extensive medical and psychiatric screenings and evaluations to make sure you were perfectly healthy. But you knew that they’d be worthless. Pestilence (if it even existed) was something no machine or screening could pick up.
It really started to feel like you were being treated as a D-Class personnel, all because you had wanted to show a hint of kindness to another intelligent being, even if he was a deadly euclid class SCP. A decision you now dearly regretted.
Working for the Foundation had really lost its luster over time, despite you supporting its goals. The pay was rather nice, but living long enough to enjoy it had apparently become a pipe dream to you.
The orientation weeks had been just magical time and you had not been able to get enough of reading and listening through the logs the lecturers had provided you. Learning what kind of otherworldly beings were hidden from humanity's knowledge had been absolutely mind blowing.
During that time, you had not given much thought to the D-Class personnel since they were mostly murders etc...but after being assigned to the research facility the reality had hit you pretty hard.
Keters, Euclics, hell, even objects deemed as “safe” could cause so much chaos, pain and suffering if treated poorly or carelessly.
The seniors staff members had reassured you that “you'd get over it” within few weeks. Knowing that the work was extremely important for humanity's safety had helped a lot but...some deaths felt just so meaningless and cruel.
Your friends and relatives hadn't been pleased about your new job, not that you could even tell them much about it . When you had told them that you'd have to move far away and that you might not be able to contact them very often, the reaction had been cold. Probably better for the foundation to be honest.
Still, the more you learned about the Keters and how many there were, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and scared for your family's safety. The world had suddenly become so much more dangerous thanks to the knowledge you had been blessed with.
Right now, all you could think of were the days you had worked underneath Doctor Hamm, helping him with the research and running the lab studying the eerie plague doctor. You had watched how the SCP had worked on the dead animals and that...D-class personnel. You close your eyes and try to calm down, yet the images of the mutilated, reanimated animal and human corpses just flash before your eyes.
The goat, the bovine….Dr.Hamm.
Your heart starts to race as the fear and desperation finally fully settle in.
“Why me?” you mutter and slam the metal locker shut, the light flickering ominously over you. It really felt like you were made into a sacrifice for the Foundation to get more data. The organization could be so very cruel about their methods...
Is it all a ruse to get a human test subject? He goes on and on about the pestilence...am I infected by it? Am I to be cured like doctor Hamm? Am I going to end up like him? you wondered, starting to feel really anxious and terrified.
You were going to be in a same room with 049, with an entity that could kill you with a single touch. Should he want to cure you, no one would be able to come to your aid in time. You were under the SCP's mercy.
Even though the plague doctor was polite and soft spoken, rarely getting agitated, he was still single minded in getting rid of the pestilence.
“How can I help him when I don't even understand what he is trying to cure?“ you whisper in despair, wanting to almost crawl into some corner and cry. He’d get frustrated with you and come to the conclusion that you were afflicted. It was hopeless, useless...you wouldn't be able to do anything.
“I don't want to die...” you whisper and in your minds eye you see the doctor tapping the glass window, singling you out.
“I will not die.”