The Hand of Okra [An SCP Fanfiction]

7. What Do You Desire?

A/N: From here on out, SCP-049 and -035 will be referred to with he/it pronouns depending on who is speaking (they're used interchangeably by the narrator). 049 will commonly be called Hippocrates, Doctor, or the plague doctor. 035 may be Romeo Montague, the mask, or the mannequin.

Enjoy the chapter!

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"I commend you for your kindness, good sir. I pray that you recover from your ailments and that your family remains in good health."

Hippocrates slid the room keys across the desk towards the clerk, who could only look back with confusion. He glanced between the plague doctor and Hasan, who simply smiled at the transaction from behind it. The two were wielding an array of luggage, including a headless mannequin and at least three other bags. Hasan placed a hand on Hippocrates's shoulder.

"Yep, what he said! I hope we haven't caused you too much trouble. Welp, we should get going!"

The two strode out of the doors with their baggage, carefully making their way to the back of the parking lot. Hasan inserted several twists and turns into a path that could have just been a straight line. Hippocrates was forced to follow closely behind.

"I sense that I may have approached the man at the front desk incorrectly based on his reaction to my blessings," he whispered to Hasan. "I must apologize. It has been quite a while since I've interacted with anyone outside of the Foundation."

He made a flipping motion with his free hand. "Nah, you're fine. He's just stuck up."

They finally reached a dull red hatchback, and Hasan fished for a key in his pocket. Upon finding it, he pointed it at the car, unlocking it and opening the trunk. He opened one of the back doors and tried shoving the headless mannequin in, which proved difficult due to its position. In turn, Hippocrates loaded their bags into the trunk.

I feel so excluded! How come you two get to use your legs, but I am trapped in here?! Free me, darling, free me!

Hippocrates clutched its forehead and glared at the luggage, which was now fully packed into the vehicle.

"You would have a more generous allowance if you did not insist on making your ability so obvious! I shall 'free' you, but only because we will not have an audience for quite a while."

Oh, pity.

The doctor opened one of the bags, revealing a glass case. The mask inside displayed an expression of tragedy. Such dramatics, he thought, gently opening the case and removing the entity within.

Underneath the case sat the mannequin's head. Hippocrates dug it out, doing its best to avoid the black stain on the face. It turned to see that Hasan had appeared next to it, who tapped a finger on the mask.

"Once you're put together, you're putting some damn clothes on, alright? It'll make you look slightly more human, and I'm tired of doing stuff for you. We're not getting caught three days after getting out of that prison!"

Damnation! Romeo began complaining to Hippocrates. This man is so stubborn, darling. The same complaint that I am not human enough, can you believe it?! How come he sees you as more sentient than I?