Author's Note: Well, I loved Dead Space and thought, since this section was just beginning, that I'd submit my own story. Who knows, I might even do a multi-chapter story some day...
Apathetic Sympathy
Blood dripped off the walls periodically, corpses littering the narrow hallway left and right. The soft hum of a nearby generator provided the only source of sound in the dark, light-less corridor. A beat passed, and then heavy footsteps echoed through the empty space.
A synthetic blue light shone through the darkness, illuminating the horrors of the Ishimura to one of its last human occupant. On the outside he was a faceless figure, a man in a mining suite. He was devoid of emotion. But on the inside, there was a face and a soul. He was terrified, his heart-rate jumping with each little sound that reached his sensitive ears.
He was Isaac Clarke and he was, for the lack of a better term, scared shit-less.
No one besides Hammond and Kendra had seen what he's seen. Hell, he's not even sure those two had done what he'd done aboard this God-forsaken ship. Most of the time, they were simply barricaded in a safe, secure little room while he ran around on the blood-soaked decks of the Ishimura, fighting his way through relentlessly cunning hordes of Necromorphs.
Tch, what a fitting term to use to describe those demons, he thought when first learning of the scientific term for the creatures. "Changing Dead", an alien species that used human corpses and molded them to fit their own twisted purpose, that's what they were. Nothing more than parasites and like parasites, they could be killed.
Well, all but one of them could.
When he was on the medical bay, fetching Kendra the ingredients she needed to create a toxin that could destroy the biological ecosystem the Necromorphs were creating, he encountered the mad Unitologist that unleashed the most fearsome creature he had fought; he encountered Dr. Mercer, the man who created the creature Isaac had dubbed the "Regenerator".
The Necromorphs themselves were frighteningly lethal yes, but at least they could be eliminated someway. Not the Regenerator. No, it was a twisted science experiment, a result of directly injecting a living human with the Necromorph virus. It couldn't die, it wouldn't die. Its only purpose was to kill Isaac.
Luckily, the engineer had managed to freeze the god-damn thing in a cryogenic capsule. Now that he thought about it, he should have finished it off by shattering it into so many pieces there wouldn't be any hope of it pulling itself back together. Oh well, hopefully, he had seen the last of that creature.
Focusing on the path ahead through the tunnel-vision of his helmet, Isaac carefully grazed his Plasma Cutter across the entire corridor, making sure that there were no signs of any Necromorphs.
Nothing, only a few dead bodies. But, Isaac knew better than to let his guard down. He knew that an Infector could sweep in at any second and fill the room with blood-thirsty monsters that wanted to tear him limb-from-limb. There was never a moment's rest aboard the Ishimura, never a moment of peace.
Why would there be, anyway? The sole purpose of the Necromorphs was to spread and consume, and he was one of the last "fresh" human on the ship. He was like a wandering cow aboard this ship, and they were his butchers.
A sudden clank shattered his train of thought. Faster than he knew he could, Isaac aimed the Plasma Cutter at every possible corner and angle of the small hallway, making sure that nothing got past his keen eyes. A few seconds passed and when no monstrosities burst through the air vents or came leaping around the corner, he lowered his improvised weapon slightly.
Deciding to resume his path, the engineer slowly stalked forward, his head constantly moving, his eyes never once closing to blink. It was pure instinct that was driving him, the need to survive. Kill or be killed.
He rounded a corner and found himself flat on his back, a vicious Lurker on top of him, its three spear-tipped tentacles trying to drive themselves into his back. The thing that used to be a human infant screamed at him, blood and saliva hitting his helmet's visor and slightly impairing his vision.
Isaac grabbed the creature with his left hand by one of its tentacles, careful to avoid the razor barbs at the end. Quickly jumping to his feet with the Lurker still in his grasp, now dangling along like a prisoner hung by a noose, the small monster wailed so loud it actually hurt his ears.
He quickly and hastily wiped away most of the blood and spit that was on his visor, though leaving some sloppy tinges of the organic waste at the corners of his vision. Raising his cutter in one hand and the Lurker in the other, Isaac carefully aimed at the first of the two still-free tentacles, aligning the middle, neon-blue shaft onto it and squeezed the trigger.
The Lurker wailed and twisted around in his grasp even more when the tentacle was shot off its back, this time emitting a wail which Isaac had not heard before. It sounded almost like…a crying child. The engineer ignored it and aimed his weapon at the last free tentacle, also severing it from the creature's open back.
The two useless appendages flopped around on the blood-stained, metallic floor for a moment or two before becoming lifeless. The Lurker made the same sound as when Isaac had cut off the first tentacle.
A slight pang of regret shot through the back of the lonely survivor's mind. This thing, once upon a time, was a child. Did the Necromorph virus allow the host to retain some of its original traits and thoughts? He looked down at the Lurker, its twists and turns to get out of his grasp more because of instinct than willpower now. Blood covered the beast entirely, and Isaac was sure it didn't have long to live.
Deciding that the two shots from his cutter were enough, Isaac reeled his arm back and tossed the twitching form of the monster down the hallway. It landed with a few splats and rolls, its legs and remaining limp tentacle still twitching.
Isaac thought that would have been the end of it, but like everything about this place, what happened next continued to shock him.
The sound of feet shuffling against metal drew his attention, and before he knew it, a Slasher had sped around the corner, its long, elegant spears pointed directly for him. Isaac raised his Plasma Cutter, ready to take the creature down when suddenly, it stopped.
It was as if some mighty force had pushed the pause button on that thing. The monster simply stood there, blood dripping off its body periodically. The Slasher lowered its two shoulder-blades to its side, and then Isaac finally saw why it had stopped.
It was the twitching Lurker on the ground before it.
Though the creature may have momentarily ceased its attempts to take a chunk out of his neck, Isaac didn't dare lower his weapon. He kept the three beams of the cutter pointed at the creature's torso, right where its legs met. He found out that it was the most effective way to take Slashers down.
Slowly, the Slasher lowered its body until it was on its knees, its small head pointed directly at the Lurker. What was going on? Was the Slasher going to devour it or put it out of its misery?
The creature's two small arms that usually always hung loosely from its opened stomach suddenly sprang to life, carefully reaching out towards the fallen Lurker and gently scooping it up. Then, it slowly rose to its feet again, cradling the dying Lurker to its chest almost…protectively.
The Slasher raised its head, its glowing yellow eyes staring directly at Isaac. The engineer readied himself. The thing was surely going to charge forward now. He held his breath for a better shot, his finger twitching anxiously on the trigger.
He was beginning to turn blue in the face, so he slowly and carefully released his breath, his eyes still focused upon the solitary Slasher.
The creature's eyes, if Isaac saw correct, actually narrowed at him. What, did he piss the thing off or something? Or was it angry because…
His gaze traveled to the Lurker held against the creature's chest.
…he nearly killed that baby-monster?
The Slasher remained still for another moment before suddenly turning tail and running around the corner, the Lurker still cradled in its arms. Isaac nearly tripped over his own feet in a mad dash to follow the creature.
He rounded the corner and aimed his cutter at anything that was in the hallway, which was of course nothing. The Slasher was gone, as well as the injured Lurker.
He didn't get it. The Necromorphs were supposed to be mindless, vicious killing machines, yet that elder Slasher came to the aid and actually rescued a fallen youngling of its kind.
That look…that look that the Slasher gave Isaac sent shivers down his spine. It was a look he knew all too well: the look of a parent that was staring at the one who had caused his or her child pain.
Habitually reloading his cutter, not even consciously knowing he was doing so, Isaac continued his lonely road through the blood-soaked halls of the USG Ishimura, having just learned an important thing about the Necromorphs:
They were capable of sympathy…
…but not for him, of course.