Gray Fox
06-29-2010, 10:09 AM
Ship’s log: “This is Sergeant Scott Benedict. My crew and I are inspecting the remains of an illegal salvage. The crew seems to have been murdered by pirates. The markings on the bodies though…so strange…it’s as if…as if they were being eaten. Heads twisted around backwards and ripped off, bite marks—these aren’t pirates. No, that’s just what we tell the men to keep their morale up. Something sinister, something…lurking.”
Ship’s log: “This is Sergeant Scott Benedict. It’s been twelve hours since we’ve boarded the illegal salvage. The things that have been happening—I don’t even know how to explain them honestly. I traced my path back to the Tempest but I can’t seem to find it. I swear I kept going in a straight line, but somehow I end up back where I start. It’s as if….the ship’s moving…..changing.”
Ship’s log: “Bendis leaned against a panel today. Started screaming bloody murder. His hand got burned by some kind of—some kind of goo I guess, really. It was like a chemical burn, just ate right through the flesh. If we can’t back to the ship and get him some medical treatment, he’s in for a bad time.”
Ship’s log: “I’d wager we’ve been on the salvage for about sixteen hours now if my watch still worked. Bendis’ condition is rapidly deteriorating and I fear the worst soon. I am, or rather we are contemplating alternatives to his suffering. We hear noises in the walls, as if something is coming. We ready our weapons, ever vigilant but to no avail. There is nothing, there’s no such thing as aliens.”
Ship’s log: “Before we could come to a decision on what to do with Bendis he disappeared. He’s just—I can’t explain it, he’s just gone. One minute he’s there, next he’s not. We’ve given up attempting to get back to our ship, and exploring the salvage has proven fruitless. Hallways seem familiar but constantly loop us back to where we started. Something….supernatural is at work here.”
Ship’s log: “The walls. The walls are moving. I thought it was just me seeing things but I’m sure of it now.”
Ship’s log: “There are noises. Terrible, horrifying noises. I have never in my life been so afraid. Some kind of screams, possibly belonging to the monsters that took Bendis. What are they waiting for? Why don’t they attack? How am I supposed to fight what I can’t even see?”
Ship’s log: “I was wrong, oh god. God oh God oh God I was so wrong. It’s not—there isn’t…I mean, oh God. There are no monsters. There’s just the monster. We were all fools to fall into its trap. The salvage, the bodies, everything was just a bait. It’s like an Angler fish, the thing with the stupid glowstick on its head.”
Ship’s log: “I’m not sure why I’m going to be last. Normally it feeds in stealth, in the shadows. This last time, it made me watch. Jimmy was the last one alive aside from me. We were sitting, waiting for the end. He tried to struggle, futility be damned. The ship lurched and deformed. On every visible surface around us the walls turned into a mess of tentacles, eyes and teeth. The tentacles entered every orifice in his body. They appeared to be eating him from the inside. He stared at me wide eyed and made some attempts at screaming. He lived much longer than I expected he would, which is unfortunate for him.”
Ship’s log: “The ship has left Jimmy’s remains and returned to its deceitfully innocuous state. My only comfort is that my lack of nourishment this last day or so will mean I am not much of a meal for this bastard.”
Ship’s log: “Jimmy had a grenade on him. I just noticed that now. The monster is getting ready for me—I can feel it. When he comes, I’ll be ready for him too.”
<END OF LOG>
Ship’s log: “This is Sergeant Scott Benedict. It’s been twelve hours since we’ve boarded the illegal salvage. The things that have been happening—I don’t even know how to explain them honestly. I traced my path back to the Tempest but I can’t seem to find it. I swear I kept going in a straight line, but somehow I end up back where I start. It’s as if….the ship’s moving…..changing.”
Ship’s log: “Bendis leaned against a panel today. Started screaming bloody murder. His hand got burned by some kind of—some kind of goo I guess, really. It was like a chemical burn, just ate right through the flesh. If we can’t back to the ship and get him some medical treatment, he’s in for a bad time.”
Ship’s log: “I’d wager we’ve been on the salvage for about sixteen hours now if my watch still worked. Bendis’ condition is rapidly deteriorating and I fear the worst soon. I am, or rather we are contemplating alternatives to his suffering. We hear noises in the walls, as if something is coming. We ready our weapons, ever vigilant but to no avail. There is nothing, there’s no such thing as aliens.”
Ship’s log: “Before we could come to a decision on what to do with Bendis he disappeared. He’s just—I can’t explain it, he’s just gone. One minute he’s there, next he’s not. We’ve given up attempting to get back to our ship, and exploring the salvage has proven fruitless. Hallways seem familiar but constantly loop us back to where we started. Something….supernatural is at work here.”
Ship’s log: “The walls. The walls are moving. I thought it was just me seeing things but I’m sure of it now.”
Ship’s log: “There are noises. Terrible, horrifying noises. I have never in my life been so afraid. Some kind of screams, possibly belonging to the monsters that took Bendis. What are they waiting for? Why don’t they attack? How am I supposed to fight what I can’t even see?”
Ship’s log: “I was wrong, oh god. God oh God oh God I was so wrong. It’s not—there isn’t…I mean, oh God. There are no monsters. There’s just the monster. We were all fools to fall into its trap. The salvage, the bodies, everything was just a bait. It’s like an Angler fish, the thing with the stupid glowstick on its head.”
Ship’s log: “I’m not sure why I’m going to be last. Normally it feeds in stealth, in the shadows. This last time, it made me watch. Jimmy was the last one alive aside from me. We were sitting, waiting for the end. He tried to struggle, futility be damned. The ship lurched and deformed. On every visible surface around us the walls turned into a mess of tentacles, eyes and teeth. The tentacles entered every orifice in his body. They appeared to be eating him from the inside. He stared at me wide eyed and made some attempts at screaming. He lived much longer than I expected he would, which is unfortunate for him.”
Ship’s log: “The ship has left Jimmy’s remains and returned to its deceitfully innocuous state. My only comfort is that my lack of nourishment this last day or so will mean I am not much of a meal for this bastard.”
Ship’s log: “Jimmy had a grenade on him. I just noticed that now. The monster is getting ready for me—I can feel it. When he comes, I’ll be ready for him too.”
<END OF LOG>