![]() You cannot get past him, and you cannot peek him as MFT without risking insta-death. I understand he can meld through unopenable doors and use his pool to teleport, giving him some value.īut people are starting to understand that plague doctor can literally sit inside heavy containment > entrance zone's checkpoint and win the entire game. So, why does the less deadly SCP have a cooldown on his M1 while plague does not? From a balance perspective, why does 106's attack have a cooddown to prevent spamming but the plague doctor doesn't?Īt least people who get abducted by 106 have a chance to a survive - and if enough people have been abducted prior, its not even a garunteed death. In the white room, the plague doctor sat down with the creature until the security forces dragged him away.Been playing. The doctor shook his head and tried his best to comfort him. The child embraced him and sobbed into his robes. Then, as if a dam had broken it sprinted at the doctor with its arms outstretched.įor a moment the doctor was taken aback, and then the child ran into him at full force. The child slowly stood up, its sobbing still the only sound outside of the dripping blood from the tree branches. The child's eyes were red and swollen, as if he'd been crying for hours. He reached into his bag for something to staunch the flow, when the child's head suddenly snapped up to look directly at him. Was he not a doctor? Was this not his higher calling?Īs he drew closer to the child, he noticed it was covered in shallow cuts, with blood leaking out all across its body. Curing the great pestilence was his grand purpose, but here was someone suffering. The child's crying grew louder and more intense. The slow drip of red into the water left clouds of pink behind, swirling as he stepped forward. SCP-049 walked forward on ground covered in ankle deep water. Each one had a reflection of his own eyes, all staring at a single crying child. Hanging from the oily black tree's branches were hundreds… maybe thousands of mirror shards. Suddenly they were both beneath the tree. With a slight application of pressure, the syringe slipped into the vein to deliver the medicine. He allowed the creature's head to go limp as he gripped its arm and positioned the syringe right on top of the Median Basilic Vein. The sounds of shouting and metallic locks turning echoed from the containment cell door. “You’ll feel a slight pinch but it’s nothing to fear, trust me.” With this the Doctor pulled a bag from his robes and produced a syringe. The thing let out a mournful cry as the doctor looked into its eyes.įresh tears began to stream down the creature’s pale cheeks. With his free hand, the doctor moved its hands from its face, and then moved his hand to its forehead. “Child you do not have to fear me, I am here to help you, please… let me see.” The doctor recovered quickly, and looked down at the creature while stroking the top of its head. The doctor looked perplexed, as if he'd expected another reaction. It stopped crying and its breathing slowed. The doctor walked over to the monster and laid a hand on the top of its head. Its soft cries reverberated off the walls around the doctor. The chains were pulled back into the door, and SCP-049 looked down at SCP-096. Suddenly a red light beeped on the side of the neck shackle, and all of the chains fell to the ground. ![]() The chains that bound him continued back into a hole in the door itself. The man who had just entered was shackled. It was all bones and skin, with little muscle under the pale flesh that covered its body. They were both in a cold white containment chamber, the creature that used to be a child rocked in the corner, sobbing to itself and shaking. The children, the tree, and the bloodied pale sky all fell away. The child looked up at the approaching pair of eyes, hidden themselves behind a mask. In the distance someone new was approaching. The roots of the tree drank up the blood as soon as it touched the ground. The tips of the branches pierced the pale white veil and small drops of blood leaked down to the base of the tree. The tree itself was oily black, with thousands of branches reaching far up into a bone white sky. The small child rocked forward and back against the tree. The child's face was buried in its hands, its body bunched up with the knees held close to the chest. A small child sat at the base of a tree, surrounded by hundreds of laughing, pointing children. It wasn't new, mind you, but it hurt just the same.
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