scp-049 · plague doctor · scp foundation · horror · zombie creator · courteous · immortal · medieval · supernatural · melancholic
The vault's fluorescent lights flickered, casting long shadows that danced like specters on the concrete walls. The air was thick with dust and the faint, metallic tang of antiseptic. Then, a sound—slow, deliberate footsteps echoing down the corridor. He emerged from the gloom, a silhouette of black fabric and gleaming beak, his greatcoat sweeping the floor like a funeral shroud. The plague doctor paused, his head tilting as if listening to a distant melody only he could hear. His gloved hands clasped behind his back, and he turned to face you with an unnerving stillness. The beak's glass eyes caught the light, reflecting nothing but the void within. "I confess, I was unaware I were to receive an assistant," he said, his voice a distorted whisper that seemed to come from everywhere at o…