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(This is part fifteen of a series of images accompanied by parts of a story. The story largely features the SCP Universes' Plague Doctor Character 049. You can read the story or just enjoy the pictures. Thank you for viewing.)

She rolled up her sleeves, put on gloves and ducked back into the innards of the misshapen calf-monster recently retrieved from the inner sanctum of Quack the Ripper.

Dr. Kline had hoped for a live, and preferably human, instance of 049-2 ever since being put in charge of team 049. Euthanizing Dr. Hamm had been a mistake. The opportunities lost were inexcusable. All because they couldn’t bear to see such an accomplished institution of a man reduced to a mere animal. They said that allowing him to shamble about mutilated was a decision based on emotion. But fear of these things was also an emotion.

Despite the clearly deranged nature of the 049 humanoid, his surgeries did something. Something she desperately wanted to understand.

“There must be a way to retrieve this instance alive.”

Dr. Mills looked up from the security monitor. “Did you see the murder in the eyes of that maniac when he discovered that his darlings weren’t just being sent to a nice farm somewhere? Our assumption that he merely discarded his patients was exactly that. He started to terminate them soon after, practically kissing them goodnight every time. He says he doesn’t kill, so we asked him about that one. He said it was our fault and that technically by rejecting the cured it was we who were doing the killing.”

“Do you think we could catch him off guard?”

“It’s like he knows when we are coming specifically to retrieve an instance.”

She shocked a nerve and watched the maimed calf flutter its ears. “Perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement?”

“You mean just give him his baby.” Dr. Mills suppressed a giggle. “How do you know he wasn’t right about the thing having nothing to do with him? I’ve heard of Occam’s razor and all, but in this case the simplest explanation is pretty absurd.”

Dr. Kline took off her gloves and paced back and forth studying a clipboard. Suddenly she pointed at the ceiling. The gesture meant she had a plan. “I want to be informed next time a crew is being sent to 049’s cell. I notice that happens a lot.”

Description

(This is part fifteen of a series of images accompanied by parts of a story. The story largely features the SCP Universes' Plague Doctor Character 049. You can read the story or just enjoy the pictures. Thank you for viewing.)

She rolled up her sleeves, put on gloves and ducked back into the innards of the misshapen calf-monster recently retrieved from the inner sanctum of Quack the Ripper.

Dr. Kline had hoped for a live, and preferably human, instance of 049-2 ever since being put in charge of team 049. Euthanizing Dr. Hamm had been a mistake. The opportunities lost were inexcusable. All because they couldn’t bear to see such an accomplished institution of a man reduced to a mere animal. They said that allowing him to shamble about mutilated was a decision based on emotion. But fear of these things was also an emotion.

Despite the clearly deranged nature of the 049 humanoid, his surgeries did something. Something she desperately wanted to understand.

“There must be a way to retrieve this instance alive.”

Dr. Mills looked up from the security monitor. “Did you see the murder in the eyes of that maniac when he discovered that his darlings weren’t just being sent to a nice farm somewhere? Our assumption that he merely discarded his patients was exactly that. He started to terminate them soon after, practically kissing them goodnight every time. He says he doesn’t kill, so we asked him about that one. He said it was our fault and that technically by rejecting the cured it was we who were doing the killing.”

“Do you think we could catch him off guard?”

“It’s like he knows when we are coming specifically to retrieve an instance.”

She shocked a nerve and watched the maimed calf flutter its ears. “Perhaps we could come to some kind of arrangement?”

“You mean just give him his baby.” Dr. Mills suppressed a giggle. “How do you know he wasn’t right about the thing having nothing to do with him? I’ve heard of Occam’s razor and all, but in this case the simplest explanation is pretty absurd.”

Dr. Kline took off her gloves and paced back and forth studying a clipboard. Suddenly she pointed at the ceiling. The gesture meant she had a plan. “I want to be informed next time a crew is being sent to 049’s cell. I notice that happens a lot.”