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@doctorharleymd
âBreaking News, there appears to be a huge fire at the research facility of the ever enigmatic SCP Foundation. Press has been unable to enter the walls since the Foundationâs official founding over one hundred years ago. All we have been told is that something dangerous is contained within each of the Foundationâs individual sites. The Foundation claims they have everything under control and that they have recovered everything that they could, what hasnât been recovered is most likely destroyed. Nevertheless they encourage the public to keep an eye out for anything unusual or strange in the coming months.â
The cold February air clawed at the patches of exposed red skin, it stung and ripped through him with such ferocity that he wasnât sure what he was doing. He stumbled through the city that surrounded him, the tall structures that peered down at his person, the Foundation didnât know that he was still alive, they didnât know where he was, they didnât realize that he had disappeared into the city that was near the site for which he was contained within before it met itâs untimely fate. He was never one for cities, never enjoyed them, perhaps that is why he fled to this place, in order to hide from them for they would never check such a cramped location.
The news broadcast filtered through his ears from where he eventually settled. He breathed out the smoke in his lungs, it burned his throat but it was a relief to take in the cold air. They announced all the details of the destruction of the site for which he was stored within. Site 19 was gone now, ash in the wind now, carried through the darkness and now mere whispers as the flames died away. He wondered how many of his comrades had died in the flames, how many of them were hiding just like him, how many were captured and sedated. He would never know as he let out a thick and heavy breath. Milky blue eyes filled with tears as they cleared themselves of the smoke.
As the night stretched on, the cityâs sound died away, the people disappeared into the interior of their homes, save for the few who didnât have any. Store lights flickered off into oblivion, sounds of television and music died away, everything was going to sleep. He rose to his feet, feeling his skin stick to the wall that he was leaning against and rip off, blood oozed and dripped down his flesh and the clothes that were attached to his body, they did little to help him maneuver at this point. Limping in torn clothing, dragging his feet across the ground, attempting just to remain standing. It hurt, it stung, especially as droplets of rain began to hit his throbbing flesh.
He didnât see another person for a long time, limping on like that, but when he did he was surprised to find that she was so clean... So pure... Almost completely immune to the pestilence... They made eye contact for a moment, just a few feet away from her, he stumbled closer before he felt his body grow so heavy and sick that he crumbled. His knees hit the ground with a shock which jolted his body, holding his side he doubled over, milky blue eyes stared at the ground as smoke filled tears poured from his eyes. He wouldnât die from this, he knew he wouldnât, his worse fear was being captured again.
âPlease... Help me...â His voice was raspy, smoke filled, but quiet-- he was so quiet and timid in the way he talked even when he was healthy. He was never truly harsh with his words unless he was angry, it was almost difficult not to be friendly to him... He acted almost like a child, trying to help everyone, but because of his work he canât ever get it correct! He canât ever heal someone without killing them first! He tried to look up to her, but found that the burns upon his neck werenât going to allow him, his body rocked for a bit before he felt himself fall onto his side-- he lay there, on the sidewalk, in a puddle of water which both stung and cooled, looking absolutely pathetic.
All the while, the cool February air began to blow past, catching on the buildings and screeching itâs cruelty out to the world. Damnation and hatred, thatâs what mother nature was proclaiming in the crying wind which carried the coming rain upon it. Or... was it rain? It was at first, but little flakes of white seemed to depict otherwise. Perhaps it was snow that was coming instead.
((If you donât want to reply to this starter/you prefer to plot before RPing feel free to IM me, I wont be offended or upset. These starters are here solely to cut out that middle man known as awkwardness.))
