The Plague is Blank

by Shadow-Cipher

Just a little something I wrote when I was bored. Believe it or not, I am quite a fan of SCP Containment Breach and SCP-049 - out of every SCP, in game or not - has always been my favourite. I've found it very fascinating. I was going to make a full story, but I dunno. For now, at least have this. So yes, this story focused on SCP-049. It just wasn't on the character list. :(

2. Unlocked

I felt nerves climbing over me, their grimy fingers grasping my skin with eager intent and pulling fiercely. Time had been lost to me as usual after I had been returned to my room. Nothing was said to me. The guard who moved me through the halls said no more than usual, giving me quick and boorish orders on where he wanted me and I didn't feel any direct anger towards the uncivil behavior. My mind was fully focused on the memory of speaking to that creature and watching its gaze on me. As I was thrust into my room, confided and lonely as it was, I had never felt better - unfortunately I had never felt worse either.

I sat curled on my bed, as uncomfortable as it was. It was practically like sitting on a pile of concrete bricks, but I would sit on it forever if it meant never looking at that thing again. I had never known much about that doctor, but the few things I had known, what little information I had cautiously pried from the grasp of this foundation, it had been thrown back at me in a twisted view.

Never had I liked this foundation - I had never been told why I was here after all - but my dislike for them had only increased today. My desire for answers, to know what was going on here, it felt fortified. I wanted to know about SCP-049, while at the same time I didn't. What I did know, the speck of sand I held in my hands, it slipped between my fingers as I learned there was more to it. I hadn't seen that creature as much, it was consistent, until now. It had called out a person and betrayed what everyone thought about it. When the military stood, the general shouted his contradictions, and others stood in awe.

Those foundation officials would surely be scrapping around their brains trying to discover why that creature had behaved like that and their curiosity scared me. Every second that passed by, every terrified thought that skittered through my mind, was a moment where I wondered if they would come back to me. Would those officials come crawling to my room and insist I speak to that thing again? Surely they wanted to know and the source of what caused such a change still lurked around.

My mind blocked out any other noises, as few as they were. I wanted to go home - I resisted the urge to say it out loud numerous times. I had done no wrong, had no reason to be here. I tried to consider home, but couldn't focus. All I could thing of was SCP-049. Before I had left, it had insisted that its job was to protect me. Would it make any effort to do so? Would it be driven to do that very action, or would it find something else to concern itself with?

I had dozed off. Maybe it had happened several times, or mayhap this was the first. My dreams were just as much of a mess as the waking world and thus no thoughts could be properly organized. All I could see in my gaze, in my mind, was its gaze. All I could hear was its oddly vivid voice, the voice constantly insisting I was unique. I was not! I was not different!

My hearing was in a struggle, trying to ignore while remaining alert. I could not feign the fact that I could hear, but it didn't change how little I wanted to. I whined slightly and shifted my body.

Suddenly a fierce pain sprinted through my body. It started at my shoulder, then split paths down my right arm and parts of my back. I yowled and leaped up, realizing with a shake of the head that I was nowhere near the creature. It had been a dream - I had suspected as much, but it was still terrifying. My shoulder blade stung fiercely and I whimpered a little as I moved to test the pain to touch. My eyes caught movement and I flashed my gaze that way. Standing in the doorway was a guard, head turned my way, wielding a security baton rather than a firearm - I assumed he owned a firearm, likely had it with him, but opted for the baton instead, likely to strike me with.

"Pay attention, girl." growled the guard, spinning the baton a little. "I won't ask for your attention again. You're needed."

"Why am I here?" I asked abruptly. I hadn't fully meant to ask such a thing of the guard and there was a large portion of my existence that regretted my choice as soon as the other opted to make it.

I instantly saw the tension, that notion that I had overstepped my boundaries. "Not only is that not information I have, but even if it was I wouldn't share it with you. You don't question your place here. You exist, you do what you're told, and you like it. I'm going to let that one slide today, because frankly I'm not in the mood to mop up a puddle of blood, but I would suggest you not ask that question again. Got it?"

I nodded slightly, lowering my gaze nervously.

"Look at me!" shouted the guard, immediately catching my attention. "Don't think you can play games at this facility. I won't cost my job for your nonsense. You are here because the foundation wants you to be and you aren't going anywhere. Questions will only send you to places you won't like. Now, I believe I asked if you understood me. I don't use gestures to speak to you, do I? Am I waving around my arms and jumping around to explain anything to you?"

There was less than a second of hesitation in my voice before I quickly responded. "No, you don't."

The guard still seemed unimpressed. "You'll come to understand your place and how to respect those above you quickly, unless you prefer a trip to the incinerator. You won't get a proper burial. Your ashes will be destroyed, actually. Now, I don't believe I came here to have this debate with you, did I?"

"No." I replied quietly, refusing to look at his face. "You said I was wanted. Please tell me it isn't SCP-049."

"Oh well of course." the guard vibrantly answered. "SCP-049 was just asking about you over and over. We simply had to give the foul thing what it wanted, bring it its favourite little toy." I already knew sarcasm when it was thrown my way, but I did not make this factor known. "Aside from how I don't remember requesting you question me, surely you don't believe you're going anywhere near 049 after your previous incident, do you? Your outburst was already unfortunately covered, so we can't shoot you for that, but don't give me a reason to take a shot at you. You've been transferred. Any questions?"

"Never any questions." I bluntly denoted in response.

"Good girl. You're learning how this facility works. Now, get up and come with me. You'll find certain people had patience that is not fun to test, including my own." the guard spoke straightforwardly, not a speck of doubt in any of the words he spoke. He simply said what he wanted and meant exactly that.

Questions could be left behind, but it didn't change that they existed in the first place. If a child lost his teddy bear, did that mean the child never had the bear in the first place? Of course not. It simply meant the bear could not be interacted with, changed, affected, observed, until it was found once more. I may have left my questions in my other pocket, but there would be a day, likely distant, when I would bury my hand in there and pull it back out. It simply wouldn't be to this angry gentleman. Nothing at first seemed any different than before. I hadn't been exactly tracking anything any of the other occasions I was moved through the facility, and aside from how eerily similar the rooms of this place appeared physically, I hadn't been tracking them to note which was which anyways. If a difference presented itself, it meant nothing to me. My mind would simply inform me that this object had not been in the prior room, only for the information of the original room to be deleted as a new room presented itself, compared to the prior, which at one point was new, and soon would cease to exist just as it had not existed beforehand.

This time around, there were no elevator rides, which at least eased my nerves about where I was heading. It might not have been a playground, but I certainly wouldn't be around that doctor, and that was, at the very least, a small pocket of air in the underwater tunnel. Now if only I could find the end.

After a time I had not attempted to track, we came to a stop in front of a large door. My eyes immediately searched the image on the door, as well as the chart plastered next to it. The picture took a bit of straining to see the image for what it was, but after a few moments of staring I noted it appeared to be some degree of elderly man halfway emerged in a wall. The image of this strange being stared back at me with an eerie grin, one that instantly sent uncomfortable jitters down my spine. I didn't have time to read the chart before I was forcefully shoved towards the room.

"Across the catwalk. Don't stop to sight-see. This isn't the local zoo." the guard ordered, pointing once before slamming the door in front of me.

I knew very little about where I was exactly, but the room looked quite different from SCP-049's, appearing to be a path overlook a room down below, which I assumed was where the creature itself, whatever its number was, was actually contained. It immediately lead me to wonder why people would keep such a painful distance from it, whatever it was. It clearly was sentient, but how far would it go? Did it move around? Did it speak? Would it bother me too? I tried not to fret over any of these questions. In fact, as soon as I formed any statement with a question mark at the end - or one cleverly disguised as a regular sentence - I instantly convinced myself it didn't matter and dismissed the thought. My eyes refused to divert as I moved down the catwalk towards the room ahead.

As I moved towards the group of people, I was mostly ignored. Men and women proceeded with their business fully dismissing my existence. Whether they noticed and chose to ignore me or didn't even note my existence at all was a factor I neither knew nor questioned.

A tall male eventually glanced my way, a suspicious glint flickering in his eye as he noted I was nearby. He turned to another male, handing him a clipboard and pointing to a nearby table before moving towards me. I kept quiet, eyes on him as he approached me. "Who are you? I don't recognize you."

"I'm... new." What was I supposed to say? Who was I to this foundation? I didn't know.

"That doesn't exactly answer my question." the male huffed, eyes dull as he gazed down at me. "It's clear you're new. Name, class, something. Give me something I can work with."

"I was with SCP-049 before this." I denoted, not certain what else would matter to this man.

While the emotion expressed on his face didn't shift in the slightest - I had my doubts it ever changed - the tension did fade from his stance a little. "Oh you're from 049. Yes, I know who you are. I didn't think you'd be on time. I'm afraid the person you're looking for is downstairs right now observing SCP-106. As you are unauthorized to be down there, you'll have to wait until he's finished to speak with him."

"What is SCP-106?" I immediately regretted my question. "I mean...! I don't mean to ask questions at all, but I thought it would help if-"

The man raised a hand, stopping my thought before it ended. "You understand the concept of watching your questions well. I wonder who you learned that from." There was a sigh at this point and I wondered if this fellow had some kind of harsh relation with a guard or someone from SCP-049's chamber. "However, this question is fully appropriate, showing you're going to be working around here for a while. I'm going to assume you didn't reach the chart outside the door?"

"This facility isn't a library." I returned, uncertain how my response would be taken.

"So I've heard." Another sigh. "However, a library is exactly what this facility needs to be if we're going to make any progress, get anything done. I can't tell you much about SCP-106 directly - I doubt I need to read you the classified data spiel - but there are at least a couple things you need to know if you don't want to end up victim to that thing. The first thing you need to know is that SCP-106 is Keter class. It is not to be taken lightly and is a far more direct threat than SCP-049. SCP-106 will not hesitate to launch a violent attack on you if it gets the chance and it knows what it's doing. Next, physical contact of any sort is prohibited with SCP-106. Did you at least see its picture?"

I nodded. "Yes, uh, sir." I felt shaky. "Elderly man, rotted skin, halfway emerged in a wall."

"And did you see the black substance stuck to the wall around it?" asked the man quickly, skipping any dodgy wordplay and getting right to the point.

"I acknowledged it." I admitted.

"Yes, well, you'll learn to do more than acknowledge that stuff. If you see anything or anyone, even the edges of its containment chamber, with that stuff on it, you will report it to someone immediately. Anyone here is higher ranking than you and can be reported, but either myself or the man in charge would be preferred. If you tell anyone else, the information will just be rerouted to us anyways and you'll still be a part of that conversation. If for some reason you ever come in contact with SCP-106 or that substance, even if for a fraction of a moment, you will report it immediately and show us exactly where contact was made. It will be quickly dealt with. Failure to do so will not end any better."

With another nod, I answered, "I understand."

"Good, you need to understand this. Perhaps the boys down at SCP-049's chamber play things a little soft, but the creature they deal with is not nearly as dangerous as what we have here. SCP-106 doesn't have a friendly bone in its body and we go through extensive measures I will not emphasize in any further detail to keep it where it belongs. These means aren't your business, but knowing they exist is important nonetheless."

"So if I never go down there that means I'll never have to see it." I tried not to phrase it as question, aptly replacing that punctuation that made it one, but I didn't feel I succeeded at masking what it was.

"Directly, no." the man said. "There is video feed of it, but you won't need to watch." The man cast a finger to a screen with a low resolution image on the screen. "You really aren't missing anything. It doesn't do anything exciting most of the time."

"Are we discussing my pet project?" asked a higher male voice. I looked up a few seconds after the man I was speaking to did. A far shorter fellow - still a little taller than myself, though - stood in front of us.

"You speak about SCP-106 like its your new pet dog. This isn't a cute little puppy or even your tiger cub that appears harmless at this size and age. This thing is a dangerous creature, a force that spits at nature, that looks at us all like a fun game to pass the time. You speak of it far too casually."

The shorter gentleman added, "And you let the thing stress you out too much."

There was a glare from the taller man and I wondered if there was any competition between the two. "Someone has to take this operation seriously. Maybe you want to go play a fun game of tag with that thing, let it have its fun, but I would prefer watching it like a hawk and keeping it where it belongs. It may just be standing there now, but its only a matter of time before it attempts a breach again."

"Don't lecture me on SCP-106!" the friendless I had originally interpreted the shorter man to harbor was now gone. Now I was aptly reminded of the previous person I worked under. "You think I don't know about how dangerous its attempts to breach are? I watch the damn thing! I know what its doing! I keep track of its breaches, might I remind you? I know every time it makes an attempt and how much progress it made. I keep numbers on collateral damage, or maybe you're too busy doodling pictures of flowers on your clipboard to notice how much work I put into this project?"

"Sir, I don't! I would never..." the tall man swallowed aptly as he spoke. "Sir, I didn't mean it like that. I just went through a lot of effort emphasizing to our new face how dangerous SCP-106 is and I don't want her to misinterpret its threat because of casual comments towards it. Surely we don't want a repeat of the last incident?"

The short man glanced my way now, easing up a little as he noticed me. "Oh, the new cat is here! Wonderful! Why didn't anyone tell me?"

"You were having a friendly get-together with the homicidal old man." replied the tall man. I was impressed he got fully away with that.

"Please." There was a moment of silence. "Go back to your flower doodles. I'm sure they're very important and pertinent to our research." He smiled quickly before non-verbally shooing the tall man away. "Now, about you, did my assistant fill you in about basic procedure with SCP-106?"

I inhaled and answered, "Yes. Don't make contact, report instances of contact, report the black substance." I kept blunt.

"Good, then you're already further than I expected you to be." the man replied. "As I'm certain he already emphasized, you will not be anywhere near SCP-106, as the lower level is far past your security authorization, which is none, to successfully avoid beating around the bush. I already know what you exist for and I'm pleased to have your monotonous grunt work on my team. Now, if you would-" A spotted a flash of anger flicker through his gaze and my immediate reaction was to cower.

"I-I'm sorry!" I cried. "Whatever I did I didn't know I wasn't supposed to do."

The man grunted and shook his head. "No, you did nothing. You're going to learn something about this particular operation, though. Stay behind me; don't intervene." I kept my voice silent and my eyes down as he pushed me aside, heading towards a male and a female leaning against a wall on the other side of the room. As he moved past me, I followed nervously. "You two!" The female looked up, but the male failed to notice.

"Hello, sir. Can I help you?" the female asked, seeming unnerved. She nudged her elbow against her male friend's side while adding, "If there is anything we can do together for you, our boss, you only have to say and we'll both be listening."

The male looked up, not so much as feigning the notion that he was looking. "Hello, sir." The friendly greeting was not returned.

"What are you two talking about?" asked the short male to the duo, a snake's venom laced into the otherwise friendly question.

"SCP-106." both answered quickly, one starting the same reply before the other formed an echo over top of the first. This answer was met with a glare, but I was confused as to why. I did not ask, but observed.

"Is that so?" asked the short male, flashing a swift glance to the male, which then flashed over to the female, while tilting his head a little. "I would like to believe you were talking about SCP-106. I mean, I certainly believe 106 is a thrilling topic to debate in this line of work, and I encourage you to speak of it. However, I don't believe that is what you were discussing. Allow me to ask, is the name of this SCP Radical Larry?"

There was instant hesitation, a pause where neither replied. They didn't move, didn't twitch. I was only further confused. They refused to answer and this did not seem to be going over well. The short man appeared to be losing patience slowly, and I could feel a fierce aura growing over the area as time passed.

"No, sir." answered the female eventually, realizing her male friend refused to speak up.

"Correct. Now, do we have anyone in this entire area under that name?" asked the shorter man.

"No, sir." the female replied once more.

"Of course we don't. Then tell me, why do you people constantly talk about Radical Larry? I'm not raising a circus act here, you know? I'm fairly certain that there is not a single official record dubbing SCP-106 Radical Larry, and you people believe you can subtly hold these conversations in the background like I won't hear those words. How hard is it to say 106? Its three numbers! Three numbers! Radical Larry never was and never will be the name of this creature and I would appreciate if everyone would stop giving it a nickname. The final point is that it is not and never will be Radical Larry. You call it SCP-106 or 106 is the letters are to difficult to say. Now, go about your business and don't let me hear that name in reference to my SCP ever again."

There was a long period of silence, followed by the male and female splitting up in different directions, dodging around the short gentleman as he icily watched them. I was frankly still very confused about the entire event, but I moved not an inch for the fear of the short man addressing his fury towards the fragile expendable.

"Many apologies for that incident. It seems some people have taken to calling SCP-106 by the name Radical Larry and let me make one thing very clear right now, that is not the creature's name. I don't know who started that story, but its inappropriate and I will not tolerate it. Regardless of what anyone says, SCP-106 is not named Radical Larry. Clear?"

I answered, "As a crystal."

The man seemed satisfied, and with this notion the last bit of anger faded back to whatever darkly pits it crawled up from. Deep within the mind of this short man was a dark crater, a pit one would look into and strain their eyes into the pitch, wondering if there's a bottom, and while you stare into its depths a foul creature lurks just out of your sight, chuckling inwardly at your childish curiosity and knowing it can one day abuse it. That was the mindset of this foundation - it just appeared some people dug a far deeper pit than others, and their monsters took longer to scale the cliff-sides.

My attention was turned to a different part of the room as we moved, explanations as trivial as when I first entered SCP-049's area being thrown my way. It seemed to be mostly a repeat of instructions thrust into my hand in the prior chamber, only with a different creature's name - or number, technically - being connected to it. It was hardly noteworthy, and although I listened to every word, I felt like I was reading chapter one in a book I was already halfway done with. While nearing the conclusion, a female - different from the woman who had gotten yelled at before - approached and attempted to garner attention.

Eventually, the female was noticed, although I hadn't made any effort to point her out despite noticing her instantly. "What do you want? I'm filling in our new hand."

"Sir, something is very strange with our computers." said the female bluntly.

"What's going on? Can't my assistant deal with it?" inquired the short man.

The woman shook her head. "The system is rerouting every command he puts into it. Every command he types into the system sends us to a picture of a restroom image."

"What?" asked the man. "That doesn't seem logical. Let me see it." The man turned to me. "I'll be with you shortly."

I kept to the background, moving behind the man as he moved towards the many buttons, levers, and computer screens opposite to where we had previously been standing. A small crowd was gathered around a single monitor as the tall man from earlier was furiously typing on the keyboard. The short man approached from behind.

"What is going on? I heard some kind of nonsense story about restroom images." the short man began.

"Christ!" howled the taller man. "I got it again!" He noted his superior behind him and turned, anger in his eyes. "Boss, you're got to take a look at this. I've typed twenty different commands into the system and regardless of their nature, I get this." As the tall man shifted aside, the monitor was displayed from anyone to see, and it was plain as day. There was a picture of the male figure used to represent a men's restroom displayed in single colour on the screen, taking up the entirety of the screen itself. "The system won't respond."

The short male moved in, looking at the screen. "This is ridiculous. How can you be getting this? Is this a joke? I won't tolerate toilet humour!"

"No, sir!" answered the tall male. "I would not prank you."

The screen shifted on its own, displaying several letters, numbers, and symbols, which appeared quickly in a line, far faster than a human could type, with no discernible rhyme or reason. The screen flashed before a loading bar filled up the entirety of the screen.

"What is it loading? What did you click?" howled the short man.

"I didn't do anything! I told you, I can't! Everything I type just sent me to that picture. The screen flickered and it was just a restroom picture. Sometimes male, sometimes female, but nothing else." he fretted, moving in to the screen to read the finer print. "Sir..."

"What?" snarled the short man fiercely.

"We should evacuate this room." the tall man insisted.

"Why?" demanded the short man.

The tall male's eyes were filled with more fear than I had ever witnessed flickering through a single person's eyes. He seemed almost incapable of forming the sentence. "Something is authorizing an unlock of SCP-106's containment chamber."