[D-9341] 1 – Awakening

[Title: Chaos of D-9341 and his escapades in S.C.P.

[Synopsis - What do you do when you realize you've found yourself in SCP? Not only in SCP, but as a D-Class in the SCP Foundation, destined to die in some sort of horrendous experiment or as cannon fodder against monsters that are beyond comprehension? The answer is simple, you cause Chaos and use the knowledge in your mind to fuck with the Foundation, of course.

This is the story of D-Class 9341, John Constatine, his miraculous escape from Site 19, and the rise of his hatred of a few certain SCPs]

[Chapter Begins, Wrote 2k Words]

[Unknown Location, Site ## of the S.C.P. Foundation, D-Class Cells]

(Lifeline #1)

Two guards stood at the entrance to the D-class Cell block. They stood rigid, but if one looked closely, one could tell that they were fidgiting, as if irritated. Their source of anger became more apparent as time passed, as from one of the cells, Cell 4C, a rather loud and obnoxious voice could be heard from behind the closed door, seemingly trying to be as annoying as possible, even though some of the other D-Class hummed to the tune of the songs he yelled, even some songs that the D-Class seemingly made up on the spot that they had never heard of before.

"Because you make me feel like! I had been locked outta heaven! For too long, for too long! Yeah, you make me feel like...I've been locked out of heaven!" The man shouted, banging against the metal of his cot to make a beat.

Finally having enough, one of the Guards shouted, "Shut up, D-9341! Or I swear to God, I'll come in there myself to make you shut up!"

"Then do it!" The D-Class screamed from his cell, only continuing to sing even louder than before, clearly not threatened or scared of the Guards.

"Yeah, you make me feel like! I've been locked out of Heaven! For sooooo long! Oh oh oh ohhh, oh yeah yeah, oh yeah yeah, oh!" 

Seemingly finished with the song, the two Guards thought the prisoner was finally done, only for him to start screaming again.

"I know a place! Where the grass is really greener! Warm, wet, and wild! There must be  somethin' in the water!" The D-Class began to sing again, only for the doors of the D-Class block to slide open and a Researcher to step through to hear the song.

He stared with a hint of confusion towards the cell with the screaming D-Class before looking at the two Guards.

"How long has he been doing this?" He asked, baffled by the man screaming a song from within his cell with all his lungs.

"For over an hour," the Guard, currently not glaring towards the cell, answered, looking to his buddy, who looked to be on the brink of madness.

"Really?" The Scientist asked with surprise, before humming.

"Alright, grab him, I want to run an experiment with 049 and got the Site Director's approval," The Scientist spoke, writing something down on his clipboard before stepping out of the block and waiting outside.

Finally getting a chance to get a bit of revenge against a D-Class, the angry Guard stomped forward up to the D-Class's cell and shouted, "Stand at attention and stand facing the wall, D-9341, or I will terminate you!" 

Opening the door, the Guard was met with the standard D-Class cell, which boasted a single chair, desk, toilet, and a simple metal cot. The D-Class in question was standing against the wall opposite the door.

"Spread your hands, arms, and legs, hands against the wall, no talking, no moving, any sudden movements will lead to dire consequences, D-9341, do you understand?" The Guard asked, as the D-Class followed his commands, whistling a tune.

Shoving the D-Class into the wall, the guard roughly grabbed one of his wrists before tightly handcuffing his arms behind his back, intentionally tightening the cuffs to the point of extreme discomfort for the D-Class, not that the Guard cared, of course.

"Alright, follow behind me, if you lag behind or deviate, I will personally terminate you, D-9341, now get a move on, you got a special appointment ahead of you," The Guard snarkily told the D-Class, stepping out of the Cell with the D-Class in tow, still seemingly unowrried or unbotherd.

Leading the D-Class out of the Cell and past the Guard at the entrance into the Block, the two were met with the Scientist, who was calmly writing something on his clipboard.

"Alright, let's get moving!" The scientist, chipper, spoke, taking the first step.

The halls and corridors they moved through were filled with people going about their day in the underground site. Each corridor and hall was blocked off with a door, and the occasional guard was stationed at choke points. 

All the while, the D-Class continued to hum the tune of a song they had never heard before.

Eventually, the trio reached the cell of a particular SCP, one that had been contained for more than two decades prior but had never breached containment. However, that did not mean it had not had the occasional incident with D-Class personnel or SCP operatives who did not follow protocol and approached the SCP.

SCP: 049, the Plague Doctor.

"Alright, I have a list of questions I want you to ask 049, as well as some items I want you to give 049. We will be watching from the observation room. Do not aggravate or irritate the Doctor; to do so is a risk to your health. You have been warned. Now get in there," The Scientist warned as he gave the D-Class several items, and the Guard shoved him into the airlock.

...

[POV Shift]

...

One could say that suddenly finding yourself not only in a different world, but also as a D-Class personnel of the SCP Foundation would send many to the brink of despair, unfortunately, or rather fortunately, I was not one of those people. You see, due to a childhood trauma I had due to a car accident, I had a little bit of brain damage, you see, specifically, I no longer had a fear response, leading to...well, my carefree attitude.

So, knowing my fate was likely to be a gruesome death or a fate even worse, I decided to live what remained of this life of mine to the fullest, and by annoying the guards.

But, I will admit, I was a bit of a thrill-seeker, and I have my fair share of close-death encounters, so I wasn't exactly anxious at the thought of death; I knew I'd die eventually, as would everyone else. So...I was a bit thankful I ended up here at the Foundation, filled with who knows what kind of supernatural or anomalous or problematic SCIFI-like SCPs that the  Foundation contained or tried to, anyway, daily, and when I heard the number of the specific SCP I was being sent to, I couldnt help but grow curious, who wouldn't?

SCP-049, the Plague Doctor, a supernatural humanoid entity with the flesh of a literal Plague Doctor suit, hands that could instantly kill you with a touch, and having lived such a long life to have witnessed the rise and fall of civilizations, the Plague Doctor greatly interested me.

But, when the Guard handed me what looked like a gift basket, I couldn't help but wonder what kind of test the Doctor was trying to do, I mean, seriously, why was there a Lavender Perfume bottle in the basket? Or an up-to-date diagram of the Human body, or a textbook on the newest scientific discoveries of the past decade.

How was this an experiment?

"Get a move on, D-9341," the Guard spoke from behind the closed door.

Shaking my head, I stepped forward past the small corridor that seemed to double as an airlock and found myself in a truly strange-looking room.

Sterile white walls, floor, and ceiling, with many different props, furniture, bookshelves, and even an old gramophone playing something in French.

"What's the name of the song, if I may ask, Doctor?" I asked the menacing beaked mask that stared at me, sipping his lavender tea and reading from what looked like an old journal.

He spoke something in French that I didn't understand, so I scratched my head and spoke, "Sorry, Doc, I was only ever taught how to read and speak English."

"That is a shame," the Doctor shook his head, before opening his eyes to look back at me, "I'm not used to visitors these days, what's the occasion?" 

"No idea," I shrugged with a smile, before walking over and setting the basket on the table beside him. "May I have some tea?" I asked as respectfully as I could manage.

Seemingly not used to such politeness, I could swear his eyes twinkled before he spoke with much more enthusiasm, "Why certainly!"

He poured me a cup, which I took a small sip of.

"Wow, Doc. This tastes great, did you brew it yourself?" I asked, as I tasted the best tea I've ever had in my life.

"I did, the old ways still outmatch the new in most cases," the Doc answered with a chuckle, before grabbing the basket, going through the items within, before the intercom came to life.

"Good evening, 049, I see that you are in an...amicable mood, so I'll cut straight to the chase," he cleared his throat, "This will be your new...intern, if he meets your requirements, of course."

I blinked in surprise, wondering why they'd do something...so, well... I'd say stupid, as they didn't even have a background on me, let alone know what sort of education I had.

"Oh?" The Doctor spoke with a hint of surprise as he reexamined me.

"I didn't know either, Doc," I told him straightforwardly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

He hummed, examining me for a few seconds before speaking, with a rather grimm tone, "I see. They are forcing you, aren't they?" 

I only nodded, which caused him to let out a string of French, French that I was betting was in some form curses, or at the very least, nothing that sounded too friendly to my ears.

"It's okay, Doc," I shook my head, before continuing, "If you'd have, I'd love to learn more about the Pestilence you are going to cure, if you'd have me," I gave him a slight bow of respect, even emphasizing the fact that I believed he'd cure the Pestilence.

"What have you been taught?" the Doctor inquired after a few seconds of awkward silence, his eyes finally leaving the intercom and camera in the corner to focus on me.

"Not much, I only know the bare basics of first aid and CPR, outside of that, I don't know much of anything," I admitted truthfully.

"Good," he spoke, making me ask, "Good?" 

"Good, because that would mean I don't have to reteach you or try to get your mind to twist around what you learned," He explained simply before climbing out of his seat and stepping closer.

I tilted my head with a questioning glance as he examined every inch of me.

"Excellent, you seem to be clear of the Pestilence, healthy and fit, you are a bit older than those I have typically taught, but it shouldn't be too much trouble," The Doctor hummed, before focusing on the Camera.

"If you wish me to teach him, I will need specific materials, items, and test subjects," The Doctor spoke directly to the Camera, as I examined his body with.

He stood unnaturally straight, not a slouch or too much weight on one side or the other; it was as if he were perfectly balanced, like a machine rather than flesh and blood.

"Fine. List your demands, within three days we will deliver what you need," he emphasized at the end, before the camera shifted to focus on me, "D-9341, return to the airlock and put your hands against the wall, you will be returning to your cell."

Sighing, I stood up and addressed the Doc, "It was nice meeting you, Doctor. Thank you for your hospitality and the tea, it was wonderful." I gave him a small smile before introducing myself. "My name is John Constantine, and I hope that I learn much from a Master of Science and Medicine, such as yourself." I bowed in respect.

"I'm glad to hear that, Constantine, go get rest, you will need it for what lies ahead," the Doc informed me as I stepped out of the cell. 

I smiled and said my goodies, stepping out of his cell and into the airlock, knowing that at any moment he could have killed me with but a touch of his gloved hand, and my smile only grew. I couldn't help but smile wider, in wonder at what he'd show me. I always wondered how the Doctor created his zombies.