Creepy Explorations: Volume 1 (Lemon)

SCP-049

Noah is drawn all through the tunnels on his back and by his foot like a child's toy, before finally getting plopped down onto something soft and squeaky, a thin mattress of sorts. Then a loud creaking is heard, akin to an office chair being adjusted as the camera slowly heightens in bursts as it hangs from Noah's limp fingers by its strap. The next few minutes are just miscellaneous background noises. More humming, the clattering of tools, a sink pouring water into porcelain, before finally Noah starts to stir back to consciousness.

"Unngh..." he drunkenly groans. "Where...where am I?"

"Ah, you're awake," the haunting voice of the hum finally speaks. It's a mellow and mature-sounding woman, throat spiced with a faint but still unnatural reverb and classy English accent. "I hope the cleaning of my workplace didn't disturb you. Anyways, to answer your question, I do believe they called this a storeroom, but now, thanks to...unusual circumstances, I've been using it as my makeshift laboratory. I found you unconscious in the middle of my tunnels, thought I'd do as any good doctor would and give you a quick check-up. In my personal medical opinion, you seem to have been through hours worth of physical strain. It's a miracle you still have the strength to do you're doing, if I'm being perfectly honest..."

Noah sits up and focuses his camera so you're finally given some crystal clear surroundings: a dimly lit and messily kept operating theater hosted by a figure caped in a coal-colored trenchcoat, hood drawn over a white bird mask so only her big dark puppy dog eyes can be seen; the one sliver of humanity in her appearance.

"Do you know how to get out of here?" Noah asks.

"That's none of your concern. You need rest."

"Who are you?"

"Who am I? Why, I'm...well, the closest thing to a name I've been given any time soon is SCP-049." 

Noah has now completely incidentally plundered through the whole roster of specimen contained at Site-19. "...You're an SCP?"

"It would appear so."

"You sure don't act like one."

"Well, what do SCPs usually act like?"

"I don't want to talk about it..."

"Understandable. Yes, this is a chaotic place," she sighs as she packs her strange surgical tools away. "Ever since The Sculpture escaped its confinement in that power failure. Now the whole facility is subject to a, as they call it, 'containment breach'. Worst I've seen in all my years in captivity here. Fortunately, down here in the tunnels, everything is quiet and undisturbed. Mostly. The breach has not proven to be a detriment to my work. As a matter of fact, now that my handlers are...occupied, it gives me a lot more room to experiment."

"...experiment?"

"Oh, you needn't worry, for you don't have The Plague."

"The Plague...wait, you're The Plague Doctor!" Noah is the last to realize, firing up off the stretcher. "I-I read that your touch kills people!"

She chuckles. "I've never killed, even harmed, a person in all my years of doctoring. I take the Hippocratic Oath very seriously, as any man or woman of science should. No, my touch doesn't harm, it just sedates them so they're prepared for surgery. Again, you have nothing to worry about anyways, my touch is only effective through skin contact. That's why I dragged you by your stockings here."

So Noah's socks saved his life. Great.

"I still don't like the idea of someone with a touch like that doing a check-up on me..."