I'm not sure what you want from me, I say to SCP-49 through the wire mesh screen separating us.

It's simple, Doctor, he says.

I need you to understand.

About the pestilence? I ask.

Yes. What else would I be talking about?

It's all I've been trying to tell you people since I came

to this place. Willingly, I might add. Haven't you done your research on me? Don't they give you

logs and videos and your predecessor's research when you come to a new job? Well, yes, I say.

But I like to hear things from subjects whenever possible.

Of course I've gone over the research.

I wouldn't be any good if I hadn't.

Even though there's no danger of him touching me, I've read the reports of poor Dr. Hamm's

death.

I still feel uneasy.

SCP-49 is also known as the plague doctor, thanks to his appearance and his obsession

with ridding the world of the pestilence. He wears black robes, only wears isn't the

right word. As far as we can tell, the robes are a part of him, like his skin, even though they appear

to the eye as normal black cloth. Certain doctors during the black plague wore strange,

beak-like masks that were often stuffed with sweet-smelling herbs or flowers. Since they believed

the plague was spread by smell or fumes, these masks were protective respirators

that actually did little to prevent the spread of the plague.

SCP-49 appears to have a similar white mask covering his face.

...