Chapter 2: Chapter 1
The eerie symphony of gunshots and screams echoed through the Foundation's many dim hallways, but the group carried on, their loud footsteps vibrating the very floor. It was a sea of dull-orange indeed, as the group of D-Class Personnel ran for their very lives. Weaving through the facility's many corridors and rooms, they stared behind them in perpetual terror. Behind them, lurching through the corridors, a mob of grotesque corpses ran after them, growling and roaring.
They varied in size, some small, others big, and so on. As the abominations charged forward, the smell of rotten flesh filled the air. The creatures themselves had once been human, displaying humanoid limbs and such, but also other strange things, like their white pupil-less eyes, and melting sickly faces.
Even in the face of such a gruesome threat, the D-Class was still managing to hold on. Some fired back with various weapons as they ran, while others that lacked weapons shouted verbal insults that would definitely demoralize those zombie-like creatures right? Well, not really, but it did help boost the surrounding morale.
"F*ck you damned creatures!"
"Don't get close or they'll rip you to pieces!"
"Dumb zombies! Go eat the MTF's brains, not ours!"
"The Doctor is in the house boys! Run!"
"Forgetting something?"
"And girls! Sorry!"
"049, you f*cking virgin!"
"Go die bird brain!"
"SCP's are dumb!"
"Amogus."
"What the dog doin?"
"We ain't sick!"
"I mean, I have dementia…."
"Who the f*ck cares!"
"Blow them bastards away!"
"Plague Doctor? More like... Uh…."
"D-Boys! D-Boys! D-Boys!"
"Yo?"
"Gender equality! But honestly, like D-Boys has a better ring to it…."
"True."
At the back, nearest to the horde of undead, Jason Chao shouted for the rest of them to pick up the pace. Tall and lanky, he wore a black surgical mask that covered most of his facial features. Deep reddish-brown eyes and silky ink-colored hair coming down to his neck were only a few highlights of his features. With pale and smooth skin and a muscular compact body, he was quite handsome indeed. But right now, no one really cared about his looks, including himself. All Jason wanted to do, was get the hell out of this genocidal moshpit.
The SCP Foundation. In his previous life, it was just a Creepypasta-Esque writing platform, full of countless interesting stories and anomalies. Now, he was living every moment of it. Being a hardened and skilled assassin in his previous life, Jason did not really fear death. He would prefer not to die, but if the time came….. Anyway. What he feared, was dying painfully, or in an unnatural, anomalous way.
Three days ago, after answering a strange survey, he woke up here, in Site-19, with the memories of another Jason Chao. This guy was a pretty unruly guy, sent to prison due to a series of petty robberies, and later, scooped up and locked in the Foundation as a disposable. Very fun.
At least he came here with a handy tool of his. The survey in question was something pretty lame. Just a random one he had come across while on vacation.
[If you were in the SCP Universe as a D-Class Personnel, what would you want to bring with you?]
How did he answer?
With a long overcomplicated SCP-style entry that was also extremely biased towards himself.
But to simplify it…..
[Useful Pouch Of Perpetual Randomness]
[Description: The "Useful Pouch Of Perpetual Randomness", is a unique, plain brown pouch that gives you stuff! With a cooldown of ten seconds, you can take something out of there. It can vary greatly, but will mostly be useful for the situation at hand. The item is always extremely random, so don't expect much at times. The items procured will always include an extremely handy sticky note telling you what it is, and what it does. Handy, right? Also note, only the user of this pouch can draw things, and it can be materialized and dematerialized at will.]
Anyways….
Well, at least he had some friends. Quite a few actually. It turned out that not everyone locked up in this hellhole as human test subjects weren't all psychotic mass murderers. It was actually quite fascinating. The bonds between the D-Class were thick as blood in most cases.
Though there were sometimes extremely rare sacrifices (For the greater good), and of course, the screwed psychopaths and sadists, the rest were completely chill with each other. The bond between the D-Boys could not be severed easily.
Jason calmly fired his Vector into the wall of abominations before him, the loud bang of gunshots filling the air. Some of the creatures fell, but most continued on charging. Most likely due to their status as undead.
But wasn't the Plague Doctor, SCP-049, supposed to be a polite and calm indiviual? Why was that damned pigeon-face rushing in with his "troops"? Was he so desperate to spread that damned "cure" of his?
In the beginning, there had been over a hundred of them. The proud yet mistreated D-Class. Now, there were about twenty of them left. He still remembered the faces of agony his friends had shown as the Doctor "cured" them with his vile touch. Even if he was a transmigrator of sorts, in his mind, he had genuine memories of the. His comrades.
"Jason! We are running out of ammo! You think anything from that bag of yours will help?" To the side, a loud scratchy voice tore through the chaos. Turning, Jason looked at the man next to him. He wore something identical, a dull-orange jumpsuit and a pair of worn sneakers. The man had bushy brown hair partially covering his eyes, and a long nose and chin. Soot caked his cheeks and his long pale arms were covered in blood. He was a good friend of his, D-10768954, but more commonly known, as Arjun.
Jason spoke hurriedly in response:
"It might, but it's a gamble. Though it might help, it might also slow us down…."
"Gotta take chances man! We need something to distract bird-brain or we are all dead!" Arjun yelled over the screams of their comrades.
"Fine…" Sighing, Jason snapped his fingers, and a plain pouch appeared in his hands. It was seemingly made of soft cloth, with string lining, keeping it together.
Opening the bag as he ran forwards, Jason shook it in the direction of the horde, and something came out. What was that something? Oh, nothing much. Just a golf cart that would definitely not be able to fit inside of the pouch. Putting aside the obviously scuffed spatial ability of the pouch, why a golf cart? Just because.
Sighing in relief, Jason watched as the zombies smashed into the reeling cart. That would help slow them down a bit. The hallway wasn't exactly that big, with the golf cart covering a good majority of it.
"Nice!"
"Let's go!"
"Eat golf cart b*tches!"
"L."
"Wow."
"Seriously."
"Golf cart? Good stuff, good stuff."
*BOOM!!!!!!* An explosion rattled the corridor as the horde crashed into the Golf Cart, igniting its gas tank, and sending flames pirouetting through the air.
"Yeah!"
"Hah!"
"Losers!"
"Bird-Brain? More like Fried Bird-Brain!"
"That was lame."
Jason beckoned for the rest of the D-Class to carry on running as he stopped momentarily, turning around, watching as a few flaming zombies ran forwards at them.
It had narrowed out the crowd, as the fire was quite helpful in dealing with zombies, but the ones who had survived were now coming towards them, their heads and bodies lit on fire. This would be fun. Maybe they'd die from carbon monoxide poisoning before getting ripped to pieces. Still, it had helped a bit at least.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone