"Ouch!" the kid yelped, his voice muffled due to the tissue he held against his bloody nose. As much as the ten-year-old understood the nurse's generous intentions, he still wished the woman would just apply the medical gel and get it over with.
"Sorry," Laura apologized quickly. The woman brushed more of the gel over a cut on the boy's arm. "Honestly, Elliot, if I had a credit for every time I saw you in here…" The older woman trailed off, her eyes scanning the wall locker for bandages. "What happened this time?" the nurse asked, as she wrapped gauze around the child's arm.
"I tripped over the door after recess," Elliot lied, his blue eyes glued to the floor. It was routine by now: try to ignore the school bully, end up getting into a fight with said bully, have the nurse patch him up, and hope he was a good liar whenever she or his father demanded an explanation.
Not my fault Jack keeps using me as a punching bag. The boy winced, though it was more from recollection of the fight than from the pain. Elliot had hoped that he would make it through the day without having to endure Jack's definition of fun. He'd been so close, but unfortunately, Jack snuck up on the younger kid during their last recess. Elliot hated the bully with a passion; he could still recall that sneer on Jack's face, still feel the dull ache of that punch to the nose that Elliot hadn't seen coming. The eyes were the worst. It's said that eyes can stare into the soul, but with Jack, it seemed as if the bully's eyes could rip the souls out of anyone they glared at.
"You know what I think?" the woman expressed, sitting down next to him. "I seriously think raising a family in space isn't the best idea. It's not as roomy as you'd expect, no?"
The boy wholeheartedly agreed with Laura's statement, though he didn't speak it out loud. Elliot had learned a long time ago that it was best if he keep his mouth shut. If there was anything the kid hated about living on Titan Station, it was the confined space. People still bumped into him, and he had heard his fair share of stories where the Sprawl's elevators had stopped working.
The child was snapped back to reality by the chime of a ringing phone. Laura mumbled something about the device before answering. "Hello?"
Elliot tuned out the conversation, and instead pushed his glasses further up on his nose. He tossed the used tissue into a wastebasket, thankful that the nosebleed had finally stopped. Deep down, Elliot couldn't help but blame his father for the position he currently was in. It had been his father's idea to move to Titan Station, all so he could take a job as a security officer. Dad had hoped to mend the relationship between him and his son, especially since Elliot's mother had passed not to long ago. Elliot hoped he would make some new friends. So far, he'd had no luck, and he didn't understand why. Elliot was nice to everyone he met, and he couldn't even recall the number of times he had cheered his parents up with his kind words.
A few more seconds passed before Laura hung up. Her tone carried the stress that she had managed to endure throughout the day. "Elliot, I'm really sorry to cut this short, but something just came up. Is there anyone to pick you up?"
"Dad said he would come get me after he's done with work," Elliot confidently replied.
"Okay. Go home and get some rest."
Elliot waved goodbye as the nurse disappeared out the door. He settled back down on the exam bed, bored out of his mind. He didn't feel like going out to the playground to wait for Dad; for all he knew, Jack could be waiting to give Elliot another nosebleed. With Laura away on important business, and school closed for the day, Elliot knew he wouldn't be able to treat anymore injuries until Dad picked him up. Maybe it's best if I stay here.
With these thoughts in mind, the child curled up on the bed. He removed his glasses, and set them down next to him. His body ached from bruises that were still healing. I suppose I need a few minutes of rest...I'll wake up in time to meet up with Dad…I'm sure of it...
The ringtone of Elliot's phone awoke him from his nap. The boy fumbled around for his glasses, his mind not fully alert. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and put his glasses on before reaching for his phone. "Hello?" he groggily answered.
"Elliot. Thank God it's you. Are you still at school?" His father's tone sounded nervous. That's not like Dad. Elliot glanced over at the clock on the wall. Ten minutes past four. Oh, no. The boy mentally smacked himself for dozing off for so long. Dad's probably waiting for me by now.
"Yeah," the boy answered immediately. "Look, I'm sorry if I made you worry about me—"
"Elliot, I need you to listen to me," his dad interrupted, the older man's voice sounding even more concerned. "I need you to stay where you are, ok?"
"Dad, are you all right?" Elliot asked. Something's wrong. I can tell.
"Just stay at the school, and don't go near anyone. I'll be there as soon as I can." With that, the parent ended the call, and Elliot's confusion only increased. What's up with Dad? He was starting to give me the creeps.
The young student pocketed the phone, and stood up, his legs wobbly due to a mild head rush. As soon as he knew he could stand without toppling over, he shuffled over to the infirmary door, lazily slapping his hand over the auto-lock. The hydraulics groaned and whirred as the door slid open. Dad should pick me up soon, or at least send someone. Best not to keep him waiting. The hallways, which were normally bustling with students, were deserted, but Elliot wasn't bothered by that. School's over. There's not many people here when school's over.
The boy passed by the classrooms, barely exchanging a passing glance. The automatic locks on the doors were active; they would remain locked until lessons resumed the next morning. For now, however, teachers had gone home to their families, and students had gone home to do their homework. Elliot couldn't help but let out a sigh. Hopefully Mom will help me out with my homework. Let's see…I have that math worksheet, I have a few pages of that book to read yet, and…I think that's it. Geez, homework at the end of the year really makes my backpack seem light—oh man. The boy lightly smacked himself on the head for real this time. He'd been so caught up in meeting Dad that he forgot his backpack in the infirmary. Well, might as well head back and grab it.
The child was so caught up in the return trip that he barely noticed the glass window peeking into one of the classrooms. The scene behind the window caused Elliot to stare in confusion.
He recognized the woman backed against the wall. It was one of his teachers, Mrs. Coleman. Her eyes were filled with terror, though Elliot couldn't see why. That was when he noticed them. The creatures numbered about seven to eight. Their fingers had been elongated into sharp, wicked-looking claws. The paleness of their skin shone in the classroom's dim lighting. Some wore the dirty remains of their clothes, while others had abandoned their clothes altogether.
It was what the pale children did next that turned Elliot's confusion into horror.
Without hesitation, the creatures pounced on the teacher, their claws and teeth staining red as they ripped into their victim's flesh. The woman screamed in terror and agony as blood stained the walls of the classroom. Elliot felt his stomach churn. The boy wanted to run, to look away, but fear kept his legs glued to the floor.
SMASH!
Glass rained down on the student as one of the small monsters flew into the hallway. Its hungry, black eyes rested on Elliot, and it snarled, revealing a set of hideous fangs. Elliot's eyes widened in shock.
The monster was none other than Jack. Elliot knew that much from the cold look in Jack's eyes, but that was the only thing he still recognized in the bully. Jack's clothes were tattered and torn, revealing an ugly wound in the student's stomach. His red hair was matted with blood, and Elliot even noticed spots where the hair had begun to fall out. The worst change had to be the eyes. The cold look was still there—of that, Elliot was certain—but the color in Jack's eyes had shifted from green to a solid black.
The terrified boy found the sense to move again, and turned to run. He barely made it a few steps before a weight in his back sent him crashing to the floor. As Elliot struggled to stand, Jack rushed toward his classmate, wrapping his clawed hands around Elliot's neck. The pinned child could feel the claws digging into his skin as they choked the life out of him. As Elliot's struggles to breathe became more and more desperate, he could barely make out the cold whisper of the boy choking him: "Make us whole, Elliot! Make! Us! Whole!"
"Let me go!" Elliot fearfully croaked out, sending a foot straight into Jack's face. He slammed his foot into the other child again and again until he felt the painful, vice-like grip on his throat weaken. Even as Elliot coughed and gasped for air, he didn't hesitate to scramble to his feet and start running. Last thing I want is to get torn apart by whatever those things are.
The boy ran without looking back, forgetting about his lost backpack. I have to find a way out of here. Tears ran down his cheeks as he sprinted by the classrooms. All around him, the once silent school had transformed into a living nightmare. The agonized screams of children and adults alike echoed throughout the classrooms, sending chills down Elliot's spine. Even as he spotted the front doors of the school, Elliot could still hear the pained wails of his teachers and classmates. The pleas for mercy, the distorted screams from those monsters, and the ripping of flesh from bone all drove Elliot mad. The boy covered his ears in a vain attempt to drown out the noise. The doors slid open, and the terrified kid stumbled out into the hallway. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.
Elliot's eyes glanced up, the relief in his blue orbs was replaced with disgust. The boy felt his stomach and throat burn as the remains of his lunch suddenly made a reappearance. He understood now why Dad wanted him to stay where he was. Elliot thought the chaos at the school was bad, but the blood painting the corridor made the school look like a laughable attempt at a horror movie. Elliot's mind raced with fears and questions. Where's Dad? Didn't he say that he'd be here by now? Is the whole station acting this crazy? What's going to happen to me? Oh God…am I going to die? The child felt his breath hitch in his throat. He really didn't want to die.
GRRROWWWL!
Elliot was snapped out of his thoughts by the noise. He ducked behind the corner of a wall as the horror revealed itself. The boy peeked outward, his breaths shallow enough to go unnoticed by the eclipsing form of the creature. The monster stood several feet taller than Elliot. The horrifying set of teeth and the hungry eyes were all that remained of its face. Its arms had been terribly dislocated, dangling lifelessly from the torso. The most noticeable change had to be the longer arms. The new makeshift limbs were crudely cobbled together, and both arms ended in a sharp blade.
Elliot watched the creature with fearful eyes. When the boy was little, there was once a time where he wasn't as embarrassed to admit that he was afraid of monsters under the bed. He tried to hide his fear from Mom and Dad as he got older. He tried to be brave just like his dad. Now, however, Elliot wondered why he'd even bothered trying. Even if he'd hadn't woken his parents up with his screaming that fateful night, they would've found out eventually.
In the corner of his eye, the boy noticed a door. It looked like it was the only way out. Up until that moment, his fight or flight instinct had been dead, but now he knew he needed to swallow his fear in order to stay alive. His feet reluctantly began to follow his brain's order to run. Praying that the monster wouldn't notice, Elliot scampered to the door, and slammed his trembling hand on the auto-lock.
Elliot heard the monster's roar before he heard the door slide open. Oh, no. No, no, no. It's coming! The young student tripped over his own feet scrambling into the hallway. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he scrambled to his feet and leapt for the door controls. The last thing he saw before the door slid shut and locked was the furious, hungry look in the monster's eyes.
The child let out a sigh of relief. He was safe for now. As he paused to catch his breath, Elliot glanced around the pitch-black hallway he had sealed himself in. The industrial-grade steel armored the walls, and the flickering ceiling lights only frustrated the boy rather than guided him through the corridor.
It wasn't long before Elliot reached another door. Unlike the last one, this door was locked. Elliot pressed his hand against the auto-lock several times, but to no avail. He had reached a dead end. That didn't keep Elliot from giving up, however. He continued to slam his fists into the door, in the hopes that someone, anyone, would notice and open the door.
He had no idea how long he banged on the door before he felt it. The ragged, foul-smelling breath blew through his chestnut hair; he could feel its heat on the back of his neck.
He turned around, and his blue eyes met with lifeless white.
When the same creature's teeth pierced his neck, Elliot's brain had no idea how to react at first. It was almost as if the numbness in his brain had spread to the rest of his body as well. Next thing he knew, his world exploded with pain. The boy opened his mouth to scream, but a wheezing gasp escaped his lips instead. Whether it was from the fear or the monster's death grip on his throat, Elliot wouldn't know.
Elliot's limbs danced crazily in an attempt to free himself from the mutant's grasp. His hands grabbed ahold of a metal pole, and he didn't think twice about bashing the monster over the head with the makeshift weapon. The attack wasn't enough to hurt the monster, but it was just enough to free Elliot from the painful restraint on his neck. The monster fled into the vent it had popped out of, eager to find a more satisfying meal.
The boy gasped for air, and his trembling hand darted to the horrid wound. He could feel the sticky substance stain his palm red. No, no, no! Someone help me, please! I don't want to die! Fresh tears streamed down the sides of his face, further staining his blood-soaked shirt. Whether this was a bad dream or not, Elliot didn't know. All he knew was that he wanted to wake up. He didn't want to die. He wanted to go home, to play catch with his father like they used to do when he was younger. He wanted to make it through school and actually enjoy the summer off. He wanted to live. He wished he had the strength to keep running. He wished that someone would find him, his dad, a doctor, anybody. Then an idea dawned on him, one that allowed him to breathe despite the wound in his neck:
He wished to go to sleep. He could already feel his eyelids drooping shut of their own accord. That sounds like a good idea. Rest for a little bit, and then find someone who can help. With the thought in mind, Elliot allowed his eyes to close and slid down the wall. He kept his hand on the wound in his neck, his breathing becoming more ragged with every second. Strange… the boy thought. It doesn't hurt anymore.
His hand slipped from his wound, and Elliot slipped into a painless sleep. One from which he would never wake again.
The skin paled faster than one could process. Bits of bone protruded from the fingertips as the claws formed. The hair fell out completely; there was no need for it anymore.
Seconds passed before his eyes opened, the innocent blue now replaced with pure black.
The newest member of the Pack had awoken.
So, I was watching some videos of Dead Space 2 on Youtube, and I thought, "What was it like for the children during the outbreak?" I pondered the question for a day or two, and I felt that the Dead Space fanfic archive doesn't get enough love, so I decided to write my own take on the situation.
I'm not going to lie: this was one of the toughest one-shots I've ever written. Not only did I have to build up Elliot's character through to the end, I also had to make this work feel unique. I had recently finished reading a two-shot from another fanfic writer. Words cannot express how amazing a job this guy did with the story he wrote, especially the detail. (The story is called "The Call of the Wild" by finalpali, in case anyone's interested in checking that story out.) I wanted to implement the Marker's psychotic effect on children in a way that was different.
So, anyways, reviews, favorites, and follows would be appreciated. No flames, please, but also don't hold anything back in regards to criticism. It majorly helps me improve as a writer. Thanks, and have a great day! :)