#apothoscary

IT DIDN'T TAKE A PARANORMAL EXPERT TO CONCLUDE THAT THE GENTLEMAN IN FRONT OF HIM WAS NOT A LIVING, BREATHING SPECIMEN. Nevermind the fact that he perfectly resembled those who sought to treat the sick and dying during the tumultuous period known as the Black Death, but from what he could see of his gaunt, withered figure, it was indicative that he adequately personified the era. A dark, heavy aura lingered around him, one that he didn't need a PKE Meter to identify. This wasn't a ghost. This was clearly some manifestation caught between life and death, anchored to this plane of existence for an unspecified amount of time. The question was, what was the doctor's purpose for having remained firmly above ground for what had evidently been many, many centuries?

❝ ...You should be resting in peace. ❞

"And I have fallen short of THE GLORY... to see you here, yet unharmed and thriving, @apothoscary." Cigarette from behind her ear, she very much needed a tamp for her nerves right now. "Do you have... a light, sir? I- My lighter is by my gun and I don't want the temptation."

“Nermal, you’ve dropped your--”

She knows the anatomy of the human body intimately. She does not know what it was that had dropped from the body of the fellow necromancer. She’s unsure it began as his, and she’s certainly questioning if it’s of human origin in the first place.

“... are...? Are you just interested in historical accuracy or are you cosplaying SCP-049?”