House Call - SCP Foundation

House Call

By: DrGooday

PUBlISheD: 28 Sep 2022 00:49

As the cold winds of Xerophylla blew through the town, the priest fell to his knees with a bitter thud against the altar. His hands gripped tightly together, muttering out prayer after prayer. This was— as many townfolk could tell you— quite the strange sight, for not once in his many years serving under the good Lord had he prayed in earnest and conviction. But as the priest listened to the infected ones shambling to and fro from behind the locked door of the chapel he knew he had to do as much as he possibly could.

Finishing his prayer the priest quickly stood and crept towards the door to check once more that he had locked the door tight and secure 'less a sickly stumbled in with him. My, the sickly, their bodies riddled head to toe with boils and pustules bursting with rot yellow pus from even the slightest of touch, their voices ragged and torn feebly crying for salvation— the poor souls. The priest's head swam at the thought while he tugged the lock, bile churning within his throat as he stepped away from the door, satisfied with its stability.

"It's quite nice to see one being so precautious…"

The priest spun on his heel to greet the one who spoke only to find the room devoid of anyone but himself.

"W-who goes there?" The priest stuttered, uneasily running his hand against the back of the pew in front of him.

The nothingness chuckled and its golden cane tapped against the ground as it crept through the shadows, the sound echoing through the room forever out of the priest's sight. "Please, Father, be not afraid. I can assure you that I mean you no harm."

The priest nodded quickly, his mouth as dry as the dust over the altar. He was unsure of what to do; he knew it would do no good to ask the nothingness to explain its strange presence but he wanted desperately to know why it had come to his humble chapel. Why had it fallen to the wayside to make its way into the house of the good Lord?

"My good sir…" He swallowed deeply, his voice cracking, barely audible as the nothingness stepped from the shadows… its form easily dwarfing the man, its body clad in shadow and ivory as it inched towards him, its dark leather bag rattling gently along its side.

The nothingness— no— the Doctor's head tilted gently to the side as it took another step forward. "I assure you I have come here of my own accord, on a mission of high importance. I come to do what is right by your Lord and Lord of earth, your very own God. It is only your Lord that will finally put an end to the scourge of pestilence, to help your people, or to aid the sweet and true goddess of death herself… so please do not deny me a simple visit to your humble town."

"You must be quite the…" the priest gulped "A scholar. Or perhaps a Doctor of the sciences."

"Aye, Father."

"I see." The priest swallowed audibly as he looked down at his hands, almost expecting the cane to suddenly turn into a pair of oversized and sharpened claws while he continued his walk around the Doctor, his hands curled into tight balls. "Then I'm sure that you can see that your holiest of services can be better applied elsewhere, good doctor."

"Dearest Father…" the Doctor called, flicking open his bag with a sickening click, "I'm afraid we both know this to be untrue."

"G-good Doctor," the priest whispered, "I'm unsure of what you're insinuating."

"You play the fool, Father," the Doctor sighed, unsheathing a vial of sickly green from his bag, its content sloshing against the syringe's thick glass, "I am sure you can sense it as well…"

"You can't possibly believe that I—" "I do."

Bile found itself once again in the man's throat as he stumbled back, his palm running across his chest. This Doctor couldn't possibly think that he could possess the sickness— how could he? In this holiest of places? The Doctor was delusional, he was assured of it.

"Father…" the Doctor sighed, "Please calm yourself, I say once again that I mean you no harm, I simply wish to cure you of this damnable sickness that you find yourself possessed with."

"You will cure me of nothing!" The priest yelled, his voice hoarse with fear. "You, you are the one that plays the fool, my good sir," he said, his hand swinging out to shoo the Doctor Beast away as he began to reach for the side door into his office as—

Before the priest could react the Doctor was atop him, its gloved hand wrapped around his wrists holding them high above his head as the Doctor pressed him against the wall. It bowed its head pressing its cane gently against the man's stomach, pulling up the priest's shirt and… and… and the priest struggled to hold back his vomit. Squirming across his skin were open puss-filled boils, the surface writhing with mold and gore where the Doctor had moved the cane across. He felt as if someone had driven red hot nettles into his chest, he felt the sick spread through him, the very same pain spreading to his bound wrists. The priest choked, tearily staring the Doctor in its hollow eyes.

"I… apologize deeply, Father…"

The priest let out a choked cry as he felt the cold metal shoved deep within his throat, blood and bile pouring gently from his limp jaw. Now unmoving, the Doctor allowed him to slump to the ground as silence filled the church once more.

"Sleep well."

With thanks to LAN 2D, MoreMuffins, Mandu, DaisyBelle, CuBard, and Lady Chrysanthemum.