Prologue: The Night Is Darkest…
Dr. Grawl walked slowly down the dim metal hallway, his footsteps echoing softly around him as he walked. This was a matter that should have called for at least a light jog, but Dr. Grawl had a reputation to uphold, something not even a discovery such as this could force him to lose his composure. The door slid to the side as he approached, a very excited Dr. Howl waiting for him. "Dr. Grawl, finally. We've been ready to begin with the experiments for an hour." Dr. Howl said in his shaky voice. Dr. Grawl held up his hand in response to silence the excited doctor. "Yes, yes. I was in an important meeting when the summons came. I had to excuse myself as politely as possible, not something easily done with an excitable Unitologist constantly requesting one's presence." Dr. Grawl said in his calm, deep baritone voice, dripping with authority.
"Yes, please forgive me Doctor. But, you must understand that this is an event that will alter the very course of mankind." Dr. Howl said, closing the door and walking next to Dr. Grawl to the observation room. "As it should, Dr. Howl. Now we might be considered as more than just lunatics chasing a dead man's dream." Dr. Grawl said, a faint smile gracing his lips. The two entered the room, a large glass plane resting at a slant in front of two rows of chairs. The two doctors sat in adjacent front-row chairs as the subject sat in a corner of the small square room, his knees close to his chest.
Dr. Grawl pressed a button on the armrest and a RIG video holographic screen materialized in front of him and the receiving end displaying on the other side of the glass. "Hello, I am Dr. Grawl. I want to assure you that this test will be both safe and legal. Now, if you could stand and move to the center of the room, please." Dr. Grawl said with a warm smile. The man looked around to see if anything had changed in his immediate area and, with some reluctance, stood and moved to the middle of the room. He held is left arm with his right and looked around in suspicion and caution. Dr. Grawl smiled, "Excellent. You are doing very well, my friend."
The man looked up to the holographic screen. "The… the voices aren't going to come again…ri-right?" The man asked slowly, looking around the room. "I-I don't want to hear them. Their mean… scary." He said, holding his arm closer. "No, no. Do not worry; you will be safe from the voices. Now, place shard 097 in test chamber 4 please." Dr. Grawl said. A small floor pad slid open and a small pedestal rose from its depths with a small piece of black rock-like material with glowing red lines about it. It seemed to glow brighter as it entered, almost as though the subject influenced its brightness. "Now, if you could touch the shard please." Dr. Grawl said.
The man backed away from the shard and fear dominated his thoughts. "No… no… it's-it's just like the voices said. No, get ME OUT OF HERE! PLEASE!" The man yelled, pounding on the wall he backpedaled into. "Relax. You will be okay. All you need to do to make the voices stop is touch the shard." Dr. Grawl said in a calm voice, a reassuring smile on his features. The man looked from the shard to the doctor several times. "You… you promise that they will go away?" The man asked uncertain. Dr. Grawl smiled, "Forever." The man looked at the shard before he shuffled slowly over to it, reaching out his hand to touch it, stopping just before he did.
Dr. Grawl's patience was running thin. He stifled the urge to yell at this idiot before calming down. "You're so close. All you need to do is touch it." Dr. Grawl said softly. The man gave him one last, uncertain look before he lowered his hand. As his skin touched the smooth stone, the red lines glowed brighter, a small hum emitted from the shard. The man stared in awe as its soft lights danced about the room, forming odd symbols and strange patterns only half-formed. "Make us whole…" Echoed about the room, no louder than a whisper, yet perfectly clear.
The man looked down to his hand, a small discoloration climbing up his arm. He pulled his arm back and stared in horror as it continued its climb up his arm. Words didn't come to him; he could only look on as the odd color spread over his arm, his chest, his body. As it finished, he felt… calm. Like nothing would bother him again. Then he doubled over, pain exploding from his back as two fleshy appendages burst forth from his back, sharp foot-long claws at the end of each. He felt the skin on his neck tear and rip as it extended upward. Finally, thought ended as small black tentacles forced their way out his mouth, nose and eye sockets and a primal growl filled the room. The man was no more.
Now, he was a necromorph.
Dr. Howl released the contents of his stomach in the chair next to him while Dr. Grawl looked on in utter fascination. "Just as I thought. The necrotic cells in his body responded to the Marker shard's signal, causing a full-blown genetic re-writing without the need of an infection form… fascinating." Dr. Grawl said to the recording RIG screen in front of him. Dr. Howl wiped his mouth. "By Altman doctor, we can't continue this work! Look at what it's done to this poor man!" He said eyeing the necromorph as it stalked about the room.
"What was his name again?" Dr. Grawl asked, ignoring his statement… for now. Dr. Howl was flustered but looked down to his clipboard. "His name is- was… Hank Friedman." Dr. Howl solemnly replied. "Hank Friedman." Dr. Grawl said into the screen's mike. The necromorph stopped and looked at the screen with empty eye sockets. "Approach." Dr. Grawl said simply. The necromorph walked forward and looked up to the screen, awaiting further instruction. A grin spread over Dr. Grawl's face. "Excellent. Now, my real work can begin. But first…" Dr. Grawl pressed a button on the armrest, "Send another subject to test chamber 4. But first, bring a laser cage, human size."
Malcolm sighed. This had to be the worst, most boring, repetitive job he ever had the misfortune of having. Granted, he was paid ridiculous amounts of credits to do this job, not to mention the free housing and discounts in the stores, but… sometimes, he contemplated leaving this job and taking his daughter back to their home world and off this damn ship. The ship in question being the U.S.G. Olympus, the single largest starship ever crafted. Stretching to a length of 2.5 miles and width of 1 mile, it was a mobile space station, second only to Titan station, orbiting Saturn's largest moon. The only downside: the crew was massive; maxing out at 50,000 people to keep it running smoothly. Add that to the civilian population that calls the ship home, there were half a million people onboard at any given time.
And as the Captain of the Engineering Crew, he had a lot of work to do.
He leaned back in his chair and sighed again, staring up to his metal ceiling to try and find some kind of escape from his job. He kicked his feet up onto his desk and turned his gaze to the holographic computer monitor when a soft red light began to pulsate from it. 'Engine 012 running at critical levels. Dispatch engineering crew now?' The message read. "God damn, that's the seventh time this month… Attention all engineering crews on the engine 012 level, fix a critical repair on the engine. And get it right this time." Malcolm said into the massive ship intercom mic, isolating the message to only the deck it needed to be heard on. Didn't want to start a panic like last time… that was one helluva mess.
"Engineering Crew Delta, responding to your request. You got it boss." Crackled through the monitor's speakers. "Roger that Delta. Try to look for any and all abnormalities, this is a recurring problem and the Captain will be pissed if his bird has a bad wing." Malcolm said through the mic sighing once more, Malcolm returned to his reclined state, wishing 5:30 would come faster. Luckily for him, nothing of importance happened until around 5:10 p.m.
"Uh, this is Engineering crew Delta. You might want to come check this out yourself boss." The crew captain said over the comms. "And why is that, captain?" Malcolm replied, irritation dripping from his words. "Maybe this will convince you." The captain said. Malcolm gazed at the monitor with impatience as a load bar showed the progress of the incoming picture message. 'This had better be… Mother of God…' Malcolm thought as the picture loaded on the screen. "Central to Engineering Crew Delta, I'll be there shortly." Malcolm said, closing the picture and heading to his suit station. 'Guess I'm working overtime…' Malcolm thought to himself as he entered the small chamber.
U.S.G. Olympus, Engine Deck 012, 17:40 hours, Earth time
"Jesus…" Malcolm muttered as he gazed upon the mess in the massive engine. "I don't know… this isn't really his style." Garret Frost replied, standing next to Malcolm. Malcolm sighed, "Duly noted, Captain. Now, what do you think caused this?" Garret looked over the blood that started at an intake vent and, once what was left of the vent was removed, the ungodly amount of blood that was splashed over the entire inside and the chunks of flesh clogging the various pipes and gears and other vital functions that the engine needed.
"Normally? Crew member goes in to repair something, gets caught, losses an arm or something. But this? Heh, someone, or some ones, got fuckin' murdered. And it wasn't a pleasant death by the looks of it." Garret said. "I say we call Security and see what they think." Garret added, his engineering suit's helmet retracting to show his young face.
"Agreed. But, we still have an engine to repair. Once the Security guys are done with the cleanup you and your crew are going in there." Malcolm said, chuckling as the captain held his nose and gagged. "Those air filters are a Godsend, huh?" Malcolm asked as Garret's helmet climbed over his head once more. "*Cough* Yeah, they are. But, why do we need to go back in? The hunks of meat are clearly the cause of the problem." Garret said. "Because this engine has been a bad boy a lot this past month and we need to see if there are any serious problems with him." Malcolm explained. "Now, you and your crew head back to the barracks. Shift's over for today." Malcolm said, earning sighs of relief from the crew that hovered behind their two superiors.
"Sure thing, boss. Have fun with this shit." Garret said as he turned to head for the tram station that ran the length of the ship. Ignoring Garret's feeble attempt at humor, Malcolm pulled up a comm link to the head of Security. "Melissa? You in there?" Malcolm said, surveying the grizzly scene before him. "Yes, Malcolm? What do you need?" Melissa Granger answered, still in her security suit from what Malcolm guessed was a meeting with the Captain. "Glad to see you too. Anyway, I've got something here that you will never guess." Malcolm said to Melissa's hostility. "Quit fucking around and just tell me what happened before I arrest your sorry ass." Melissa said with a serious tone.
Malcolm sighed, "Always so hostile. Here, why don't I show you?" Malcolm turned on the exterior camera for his RIG and did a slow pan over the interior of the engine. "By the Marker, what the hell happened there?" Melissa asked, her hostile tone abandoned. "Beats the hell out of me. But I think you better get a team down here ASAP. I'll put the deck on lockdown until you're done." Malcolm said, turning off the camera. "Yeah, thanks Malcolm. I'll be down there shortly. But, before you go, any witnesses or anything of that nature?" Melissa asked, hurrying to Central Security Station as she talked. "Nope, nothing like that. There are cameras down here though. You might want to check those out." Malcolm said. Melissa sighed, "Alright. Thanks for your help. We'll keep in touch." Malcolm nodded. "Sure thing Melissa. I'll be in my quarters if you need further help." Malcolm said before he closed the comm link. 'This is gonna be a loooooooong week…' Malcolm thought to himself as he made his way for the tram station.
If only he knew how right he was…
Author's Note: So, this is the prologue, short, sweet, and to the point. Chapters after this are going to be longer. Just for future reference: Isaac Clark is NOT going to be in this story. The events on the U.S.G. Ishimura have happened a year prior to the events in this story, so this story is going to be taking place between Dead Space one and Dead Space 2. Until next time, CI signing off.
