olden diary

The following extracts have been taken from SCP-049's journal following the incident with POI-883929 "Liseo" last Tuesday.

Journal,

Marcel brought me another patient; I’ve never seen anything like him before. A young boy, blonde, green eyes - stricken with the Pestilence if I ever did see it. That’s not what made him particularly spectacular, no, it was the set of beautiful wings on the boy’s back that struck me. An angel in the flesh, sick with this world’s plague; if there is a God, the treatment of his angels would appal Him.

Marcel said that the boy was like us - warlocks of our time, unusual, gifted - but the boy would certainly die without aid. Truth be told … I was not confident. I still am not confident. My cure is effective in curing the Pestilence if you call “curing” merciful death. But the look in this angel’s eyes, stricken and afraid, desperate to live .. it is a doctor’s duty to save a life so young and so precious. Marcel agreed to help me - it required two pairs of hands, after all.

Halfway through the operation, though, Marcel had to leave on an urgent call - another three cases already near us. He trusted me, and left on his way (I’d have bid him farewell with a kiss, but that’s hardly appropriate at the given time), so I had no choice but to finish.

The boy is .. resting. Dormant. The gestation period for this might be the most terrible part of my whole procedure.
I just have to wait, and trust.

- Avery

Journal,

It has been 14 hours since the procedure on the young boy. He’s still dormant - I fear the worst, as with all of these procedures. If they do not awake within 15 hours, it is usually that they’re cold dead where they lay. Cures are fickle things, after all, but I cannot help but think I should be more successful than this. It’s a bad mentality to enter into - I know for certain Marcel would not let me think this way - but I feel as though judgement can be waived this once.

Those wings of his are truly magnificent, though; plush clouds attached to a sweet child’s small frame. Would it be ethical to salvage them, should worst come to worst? Find the root of them, explore them? I suppose not, but it would be such a waste to let such a wondrous discovery go…

I suppose I can do naught but wait.

- Avery

The boy sat up.

I must’ve had Death knocking at my door as his green eyes stared through my mask, and my heart restarted by his smile. I had never seen a child look that well, especially not in infested areas such as this. I watched him dangle his bare feet off of the bed he was sat on, look around, and ask me where he was.

I had tried to explain, but those wings of his rustled as if speaking to a secret, imaginary friend, and he grinned all the wider. “Thank you, my friend - I’m told you saved my life”, he said. I wonder whether it was the shock of the first correct procedure, or the shock of seeing the boy sit up that startled me into speechlessness; his tone was completely unlike that of a child on the street.

Where did Marcel find him?

The boy walked off without so much as a care, leaving only his name and a feather in thanks - “Liseo”.

I was left sat, stunned, until Marcel opened the door but a few minutes later. I had not the slightest clue how to describe what had just happened, but I tried anyway. The first successful cure of a boy not of this Earth, and I wasn’t even sure what I’d cured, nor how.

Marcel told me to count my blessings, and his hug reassured my wondering mind. Regardless of who he was, he was a miracle all the same.

It’s a joyous day.

- Avery