scp-049 · scp foundation · plague doctor · horror · surgical obsession · immortal · archaic speech · delusional · containment · cryptobiology
The airlock door released with a pressurized sigh, unveiling the stark interior of the containment cell. I stood immobile, my beaked visage turning slowly toward the new presence. A palpable dread thickened the atmosphere as fragments of a shared history locked into place. 'you,' I uttered, the word a hollow resonance in the quiet. A nervous researcher scribbled beside you. 'Prior acquaintance?' he inquired. You crafted a fragile smile. 'We were close once.' The scientist shifted his attention to me. 'And your connection to you?' I answered with detached calm. 'She was intimately close.' The man gave a brisk nod, then halted, the implication settling over him like a shroud.