Okay, after this, there are only two more chapters left. And they're already typed up. Better make sure nothing happens to—*a guy bumps into me and I drop my jump drive into the sewers by accident* …WHAT?

I wish I was kidding about that.

Rafen of the blood: (still hate autocorrect) Well, yeah an outbreak has started! It just hasn't affected any of the main characters yet!

X-WolfHunter: Yeah… "our shizzle"… whoo…! Kinda awkward.

Log 12: USG Colorado's Morgue/ Jacob DuFresne

August 13, 2513

Jacob slipped on surgical gloves for what would probably be the last time on this particular voyage. He looked around the morgue. Twenty marines had managed to force themselves into the morgue, keeping a close eye on the doctor, just in case another 'incident' was to occur. He sighed. At least it wasn't Mack Middleson and his fanatical Special Ops team. Jacob craned his neck in order to see the bodies of the miners that had been in the morgue just a day prior. None of them were on their operating tables. The marines had probably shipped them down to the deployable morgue. It would have made sense to him. Jacob's eye's shifted over to the morgue's door. The unpleasant-smelling ooze was forcing its way through the door's cracks. He swallowed as he realized it had been two days since he checked on the substance in his quarters. He remembered the rate at which the substance had multiplied a few days ago, doubling within a just a few minutes. That was over 72 hours ago. How much could it have—?

"Jacob!" one of the marines yelled out, interrupting Jacob's thought process. With a scowl, the doctor turned his head to look at the man in question, the commanding officer of the marines, Jack Andersen. He was slipping on surgical gloves of his own. Apparently, the man had had medical training prior to becoming a marine, and would be serving as the assistant. "Are we going to begin soon, or are you just going to keep procrastinating now that you've got actual supervision from marines?"

The doctor rolled his eyes. "Give me a moment, I just need to think," he said as he pulled a surgical mask over his mouth. He looked at the door again. On the way in, the marines didn't seem to notice the sludge covering the hallway, even when it slowed the doctor down immensely. Either they were too stupid to notice, or they just didn't care. The latter was, admittedly, more likely. "Okay, let's begin. This is Senior Medical Officer Jacob DuFresne. My assistant is Sergeant Jack Andersen of the USM Marine Corps. Today, we have to autopsy the body of the acting Mirst Fate—eh, sorry—First Mate, Jason Jacobs." Jacob made a personal note to stop talking so fast. He would only need his scalpel shortly today, if at all.

Jacob reached for his scalpel, while trying to decide where to begin. There were several stab wounds throughout the torso, unlike the usual neck-slitting. However, it appeared that an attempt had been made to slit Jason's throat, but it was a horrific miss, a cut zigzagging from one collarbone to the lower chest to the other collarbone, with a few points where some involuntary muscle spasms had occurred throughout the cut. But these cuts were much larger and deeper than any he had previously had to deal with. He traced his finger across the cut, and comparing this to the stab wounds. They were precisely the same depth and width. Jacob thought briefly about the limb-thing from yesterday. Would those limbs be able to create these cuts? No… That wouldn't make any logical sense. There has to be some kind of scientific conclusion to this... What can cause involuntary muscle spasms?… Parkinson's disease. That's right, Parkinson's disease can cause that kind of thing! "Hand me a data-pad."

Jack glared. "I told you to stop procrastinating, doctor."

"No. If you look closely you can notice that there are some outlying slashes on the body. These were most likely caused by someone who suffers from muscle spasms. A likely cause of this would be Parkinson's disease. I feel we must check the crew's manifest for any with Parkinson's."

The marine applied some thought to that, and nodded in approval. He pulled a data-pad from a nearby drawer. "Fine. But I'm holding the 'pad. I can't trust you."

"By all means," the handicapped doctor replied, gesturing with his hands to continue.

It took a few more minutes than how long it would have taken Jacob or even Nathan to open, but eventually, he managed to open a list. "Okay, there are only two people on this list. The first…" he clicked on the first box, "is a man by the name of… 'Kyle Henderson'." The marine, still looking as if he couldn't possibly care less about anything, looked up. "Is that name familiar to you?"

"It's not him. That was the first man to commit suicide on the excavation site."

Jack rolled his eyes, and clicked on the button to switch to the other dossier. A quiet klaxon sounded from the data-pad, and a warning screen appeared. His expression turned to one of frustration. "Access codes require—what the hell?"

Jacob reached out. "That means the dossier is one of a higher-ranking officer than you. Luckily enough, I can access even the most senior of officers' files." He took the data-pad from the sergeant and typed in the access codes. He dropped the data-pad the instant the warning screen went away and he saw the face. The data-pad landed in his lap. A few gasps of terror came from the marines who saw, including the sergeant.

"C—Captain Brown?" Jack mumbled to himself. "No… that can't be right… it doesn't make any sense…"

But it did. Jacob pieced everything together in his mind. The captain had been hallucinating, which was likely a sign of insanity. Jason Jacobs had put the captain within the power of one of the USG Colorado's psychologists, and made changes that the Captain didn't necessarily agree with within his absence. He had excused a murder by Jacob, more than likely just so that he could use it as leverage when he killed off the First Mate. It all made perfect sense.

Apparently the expression 'Great minds think alike' was more than just an expression. Jack facepalmed before muttering, "But it does make sense, doesn't it…"

Jack began to make a break for the door, activating his RIG's natural gloves and flipping up the helmet. "Come on, soldiers. We've got a traitor to take care of!"

"But Jack—!" Jacob began to yell out as the marine stormed out.

"Shut the hell up, DuFresne!" He stepped in the sludge and nearly slipped. Upon regaining his balance, he yelled out to him, "Get cleaning this damn floor, you damn over-glorified medic!" He signaled for his men to follow him, and they did, leaving the man in the morgue all alone.

For the first time in days, Jacob was finally not doing anything. He began wheeling out of the morgue. But soon as he opened the door, hell broke loose. He heard women screaming in terror down the hallway. He heard heavy footfall, far too heavy to be human. Jacob began to wheel toward his room. If something was going on, it would be best to stay out of the way. The door to his room was convex, bending out to greet the hallway. He waved his hand in front of the somehow operational OPEN hologram. Jacob turned his head as he heard the footfall getting louder.

There was a large, horrific being standing at the end of the hallway. It resembled a gorilla, somewhat, except that it appeared to be seven feet tall, lacking any flesh, and having what looked like armor sticking out of the body. He waved his hand again, but the door was barely reacting. Jacob tried to come up with a name for the creature on the spot. Then, it clicked in his head. Necromorph. "Praise Altman… Clarke was right…" He noticed for the first time the creature was holding a woman in its massive right hand. With one swift movement, the body was separated into two pieces, one in the hand, and one in what Jacob assumed to be the mouth of the beast. Now realizing how dire his situation was starting to become, he rapidly waved his hand in front of the open pad. It slowly began to budge before—

BAM!

Jacob was thrust from his wheelchair at the force of the ooze exploding out due to the lack of resistance coming from the door. He was pinned to the wall, with the unusual substance beginning to stick directly to him. Jacob could feel his heart slowing down. His eyes, now beginning to cloud up, shifted to the morgue's door. The door opened, and out walked Jason Jacobs. But he was one of the limb-creatures from yesterday. The Necromorph looked at Jacob, made what looked like a smirk, and decapitated the doctor with one swipe of its limbs. The head fell silently to the ground, and Jacob struggled to take one last breath before both the head and the body died. But he failed.

A little call-out to TheFinalMaster for the "Clarke was right" idea. Sorry if I horrifically botched that up.

I know that this chapter seems rushed. I just want to get started on the collab as soon as possible. The later chapters will be better, I assure you. … Also… I know this might make me lose some morality points for doing this, but… can someone please help me come up with a title for the collab story? I can't think of one.

-200 Karma

Damn. Read and review. Please? Pretty please? *I'm now standing right behind you* Pretty pretty please with a cupcake on top?