The Horse That Cried Meltdown. (An SCP Fan Tale)

Chapter 3, Initial onset.

It was maybe 6 hours from the explosion.

My head was filled with a soft ringing, my eyes tried to open, the light forcing them shut until I could muster up the strength to open them again longer and take a look at my surroundings.
I took in as much as I could before my eyes inevitably slid shut again.
I was in what looked like a small metal room, being held down by large, bright yellow shapes.
My eyes opened once more, the shapes became clearer, the ringing in my ears faded gradually, the sounds of ambulance sirens barely becoming audible over the tinnitus that infested my head.

Paramedics. I was in an ambulance.
"Sir... Can you hear me?" A woman's voice spoke up.
I did my best to nod, prying my eyes open again to see.
The other paramedic stepped aside, facing away from me.
I turned my head, my gaze following them.
I spotted Matt, my coworker, sitting in the chair, a scuffed up lab coat hung from him. The other paramedic checking him up and down.

His skin was pinkish and blistered, he trembled in his seat, arms wrapped around his gut, his hair dry and tangled in dirt and grime.
Not to say I was faring any better, but he was barely holding on.
"What on earth-" the paramedic mumbled under his breath.

The woman stood over me, shining a small light in my eyes, which made my eyelids feel heavy again.
"Sir, do you know your name?"
I tried to meet her stare, my eyes refused to adjust, pushing themselves shut again.
It seemed my brain wanted a nap more than it wanted to survive.

"Marv-Marvin..." I wheezed, feeling a sting go up my dry throat as I spoke.

She pulled the half torn gas mask from my head, her entire face draining of colour when she saw mine.

"Oh my god-..."

The ambulance halted with a jerk before I could utter a single question, and the doors were thrown open, letting the cool night breeze wash in.

The small box was suddenly washed over with the sound of sirens and emergency vehicles at point blank range. I tried to reach up to cover my ears, but a dry burning sensation seared up the skin of my arms as soon as I moved them, like a sunburn, but tenfold.

I felt the drop and the clattering of the ambulance bed rolling out of the back and onto the hard concrete parking lot, as the paramedics wheeled me out.

Turning my eyes to the left, I could see fire trucks speeding into the distance, and more ambulances arriving from the power plant. Far out in the distance, from the other side of town, a blue glow was visible above the other buildings, highlighting the smoke billowing upward into the night sky, and the rain bombarding the roof. The eerie glow seemed to surround the reactor building like a cloud, as bystanders just watched and recorded with their phones.
There were dozens and dozens of red trucks, all speeding and blasting their sirens in unison, swarming the roads.

As soon as the doors to the hospital slid open, the bizarre sound of screaming and hollering of animals washed over me. I thought it was a zoo. I opened my eyes again, and the realization hit me like a freight train.

They weren't animals, they were people.

There were hundreds of them, men, women and children, some walking but most crawling or passed out, vomiting, their skin in various tones of red or purple, some worse than others, some were blackened to a crisp, falling apart, confused and bewildered. Some howling in agony.
Doctors tried to count them or somewhat organize them, but to no avail.

Being dragged through, in my tattered plastic hazmat suit, covered in wet mud and grime and dirt, my eyes still hardly adjusted, I tried to speak up, my parched throat stinging whenever I so much as tried to utter a word.