The plague doctors hand gripped Michaels shoulder tightly and...he didn’t die?

The plague doctor cocked its head in confusion, but Michael reacted quickly, grabbing the doctor by the beak and grappling him to the ground. The man may be immortal, but he sure as hell wasn’t strong.

The doctor struggled.

“Why did the cure not settle within you? Why is the pestilence within you growing stronger? You are an abomination, to reject science such as this is blasphemy!”

“Will you shut the fuck up already!”

“I simply wish to heal you, how do you not see that!”

Michael tried to pin the plague doctor to the floor, and it worked out well enough.

The two tumbled on the ground, the doctor pulling on Michaels hair and Michael holding him in a headlock.

Amidst the struggling, the faint sound of the emergency containment door opening could be heard, but it didn’t register for Michael.

He was pissed, Alex didn’t deserve to die like that and he sure as hell didn’t.

Their desperate struggle continued.

The sounds of footsteps approaching and walkie talkie chatter echoed down the corridor, before a dozen men wearing foundation gear and gasmasks rounded the corner.

“MTF, stop moving right now and stay on the ground!”

The plague doctor didn’t respond to their call, still grappling violently with Michael.

It didn’t matter though, because before he could even respond a feeling of weightlessness began to overtake him, before space folded around both him and the plague doctor he struggled with.

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Michael reappeared in a break room of the facility, still holding the plague doctor. Several nearby scientists seemed to recognize the doctor and immediately fled the room.

The monster frantically looked around, clearly confused over what happened to it.

Michael used this opportunity to pin the doctor to the floor, where it proceeded to complain and squirm.

“What manner of sorcery is this? You abomination, you vile being of pestilence, where have you taken me!”

“Shut the fuck up!”, yelled Michael, pissed over almost being killed a few minutes ago.

He slammed the doctor's face into the tile floor, over and over again. It wasn’t hurting the doctor, but it did make Michael feel a bit better.

A few minutes later a team of guards arrived at the break room, carrying with them a small squirt bottle which they proceeded to spray on the plague doctor.

Michael sniffed the air.

“Is that lavender”, he asked?

Immediately the plague doctor ceased resisting, going into a trance of sorts.

One of the guards walked up and put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “Get off the plague doctor, it needs to be taken to a temporary containment cell.”

Michael reluctantly stood up, and the doctor was escorted away, not resisting in the slightest.

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Once the plague doctor was taken away Michael was immediately brought to the showers. Apparently he looked and smelled terrible .

He was covered in dried blood and black liquid from the zombies, the shower was extremely needed.

Once he’d stripped down, he noticed the jade ring still attached to his finger.

“So it stops diseases, huh”, Michael muttered.

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After the shower, Michael was brought back to his cell where he was allowed to rest briefly before Dr. Hearthgrieve barged in.

“First, I must congratulate you on your return to us. I’m told you came back a little worse for wear this time so I’m going to need to know everything about this dimensional shift. The tether brought D-3621 with you, which opens up a lot of doors for you, but I’m going to need to know what happened to D-3621 afterward as well as why you brought the plague doctor back with you.”

Michael didn’t feel like this right now, he was sore and now that the adrenalin was gone from his system he just wanted to go to bed, but he could see in Hearthgrieve’s eyes that he wasn’t going to let him sleep until he told him everything about the shift.

Sighing, Michael begins to disclose the events of the shift to Dr. hearthgrieve.

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Dr. Heathgrieve stroked his beard, “You’re incredibly lucky, that ring you scavenged saved your life. It gives immunity to the plague doctors touch, as well as disease, poison and acid. What I’m wondering about however is why you're immune to its side effects.”

“You don't know then?”

“Well if I had to guess, I’d say your crown is somehow negating the negative effects of the ring. I suppose it could have purposes besides storing your soul. It wouldn’t be the first SCP to have traits we didn’t know about.”

Michel considered this, while Hearthgrieve continued talking.

“Regardless, the 05 council are ecstatic to hear about your ability to take people to other dimensions from a distance.”

“What’s the 05 council?”

“Not important, but what is important is the deal they proposed for you.”

Michael leaned forward, listening.

“They have agreed to allow you to continue using anomalous items you find during shifts, such as your ring, to allow you to more safely explore the various worlds you come across.”

“Alright, now what’s the catch?”

“In exchange you’d be required to assist with the disposal of certain SCPs.”

“What, like take them with me during a shift and leave them there?”

“Precisely.”

“How dangerous would they be?”

“We wouldn't send anything with you that you couldn’t just walk away from.”

Michael thought it over for a moment.

“Throw in a basic summary of each SCP your foundation knows about and you have a deal.”

“I’ll need to talk to the higher ups, but that seems doable. However some SCP’s will be exempt due to their sensitive nature.”

“Fair enough, now get out. I’m going to bed.”

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The next morning when Michael woke up he was sore all over.

The plague doctor may have been physically weak, but he sure as hell put up a fight.

So Michael spent the next couple days resting and recovering, before diving back into his exercising.

It had been going well, already he could see his gut slowly diminishing in size and his performance on all the workout equipment ever so slowly increasing. He’d recently put in a request for a couple new items and gotten their approval.

Zip Ties (Approved) Flash Bangs (Approved) List of SCPs (Approved) Replacement of All Lost Equipment (Approved)

The list of SCP’s had come in on a small laptop, with a surprisingly in depth description of each one. Several of them were, quite frankly, disturbing. However knowing is half the battle, so studying them became Michael’s top priority.

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Just like this a week passed, before Dr. Hearthgrieve showed up in Michael's room once again.

“Congratulations Mr. Stevens, you get to keep your ring, but I have been instructed to bring you to your first assignment. The SCP you will be disposing of is kept in a separate facility, so we’ll need to transport you first. Follow me please.”

Michael stood up to leave, grabbing all of his equipment.

“Which one will I be disposing of?”

“That would be SCP 096, designated as ‘The Shy Guy’.”

Michael stopped walking, he’d read about this one. It has pale white skin, with long bony arms and legs. The precarious part of this SCP is that anyone who sees it’s face will be killed by it. It doesn’t matter where you are or even if you only look at a picture of it, it will know your exact location and run towards you with the speed of a jet. Breaking through stone, metal and pretty much anything between you and him.

“That one’s pretty dangerous you know, this won’t backfire on me will it?”

“Oh no, you should be fine. We had a D-Class cover it’s face in a bag, and we’ll be using the same tethering technique as before. Simply bring it to a new dimension, release the tether and walk away. What could go wrong?”

"Ok first, why would you say that, shut the hell up."

“Second, this right here is a big favor, your foundation better not forget about me doing this.”

“Believe me Mr. Stevens, we won’t.”

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They moved Michael to the back of a secure truck, before locking him in. Apparently it’s procedure when moving a ‘safe’ humanoid SCP. It’s bullshit is what it is, they didn’t even give him a seat. A small barred window connected Michael to the front of the truck, where two foundation guards were driving.

Michael sat down and pulled out his laptop, intent on learning as much about ‘The Shy Guy’ as he could.

Finding a file labeled ‘Termination Attempts’ Michael clicked on it. What he found was somewhat grotesque, the foundation seemed to have pitted it against several other SCP’s in the hopes of destroying it, failing every time.

One somewhat interesting occurrence was when they had it fight ‘The Hard to Kill Lizard’.

It said that once the giant lizard saw Shy Guy’s face, Shy Guy attacked it for twenty seven continuous hours, tearing out large pieces of flesh and shattering bone, before deciding the lizard was indeed too ‘hard to kill’.

That’s when it proceeded to sit down and tear away at its own face in an attempt to hide itself, sobbing the whole time.

Michael popped a piece of strawberry gum in his mouth.

“I’m going to be tethered to this thing? Yikes.”