1 | 049 & 049-J | Saviour

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DISCLAIMER

Gore warning, SCP-049 gets fucking skinned and SCP-049-J becomes Very Violent.

This takes place before 049 and 049-J were contained. Thus, they will simply be referred to as "The Plague Doctor" and "The Plague Fellow", along with other variations of that. I believe you understand enough about both SCPs to distinguish them from each other.

Some of the dialogues are spoken in French. However, I understand nothing in French except "merde" and I'm too lazy to look it up on Google Translate and put the translation (GT is also pretty unreliable). So, for convenience,

"This dialogue is in French"
"This dialogue is in English"

Okay enjoy the chapter

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I don't remember what had happened. My very foggy memory only told me that I had been running from someone... a patient. Why was I running from them? They were completely engulfed by the Pestilence. They needed the cure... I needed to cure him.

...

Why... does my entire body ache?

God, I feel awful. How far did I run? How long before I stopped remembering?

...oh wait, I think I blacked out. It would explain why I'm having such a hard time remembering what happened... and, oh. Explains why I'm lying down with my eyes closed.

I try opening my eyes before quickly closing them again, the feeling of cloth covering the top half of my face irritating me. Why am I blindfolded?

...

I can sense the disease. The Great Pestilence... there are several people nearby.

...I need to cure them. Quickly, before they become too far gone. Too late to be saved.

I attempt to get up before quickly deciding against it when I immediately felt something cutting into my right arm. I inhaled sharply, before realisation hit me.

I'm tied down. With some sort of heavy restraints, probably metal. I quickly piece together the situation. Either I'm being held hostage, or I'm about to be forced to join a group of ill-minded commoners, trying to weaponise my knowledge in the medical field.

Being more awake, my mind was clearer and I determined there were at least three people in the room. Three people infected with the Pestilence, though, at varying stages of infection. I recognise one, perhaps the patient I was running from?

"Look who's woken up," One of my captors began. "Did you rest well?" I attempted to speak, and was almost delighted that I hadn't been stripped of my voice. "No. Considering the awkward position my body has been put in."

"Why didn't we just take off his mask and gag him?" Another asked. "As far as I know, he doesn't even take it off in his sleep. I wanted to see his reaction when we take it off..."

I almost let out a chuckle. Such foolishness. This 'mask', as they say, is my face. They can't possibly take my face off.

...wait.

Panic set in as I remember that skinning people is still a twisted thing that exists. I've even accidentally cut off parts of my own skin during my haste in my surgeries.

I feel someone tug on my beak, jerking my head forward. I quickly sink away from their cold hands, and I silently cursed my face for being the only part that anyone can touch without me being able to administer the first part of my cure.

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