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KP - Episode 15 (Public)
🕑 Added 2023-10-08 05:39:10 +0000 UTCWords Count: 4674
(“Every time I think I have seen the worst of Humanity, they find another way to disappoint me… I hear so many talk of goodness, yet I have never seen it in person. Is this it? Is this all there is to being human? There has to be more, right? There has to be.”)
Dead Space's a 2008 horror-survival game where you will have to carefully manage your resources lest you are caught inside a horde of Necromorphs with less than ten rounds in the chamber. The main character? Isaac Clarke, as expected. Out of everyone that arrived on the Ishimura, the engineer is the only person who's supposed to live through the ordeal, evidently not intact- not mentally at least. Kendra, Zach are both supposed to die gruesome deaths, the latter earlier than the first.
Already, my presence has altered the course of events.
Isaac remains haunted by the loss of his girlfriend, but he no longer succumbs to the deceptive whispers propagated by the Marker as he once would have. Officer Hammond, too, is granted a reprieve, though the duration of this extension to his life is still uncertain. Clad in his uniform, the two tremble at the sight of the monstrous figure I have assumed, looking both betrayed and fearful. “Relax.” I feel myself shrink to my usual height, cracking my neck to rid myself of the stiff knot that’s killing me.
Inky goo retracts back under my Suit, effortlessly slipping into the tiny gaps between atoms. Immediately, my helmet snaps back to reveal a human visage under. “Okay… I know how this looks, but I promise I can–” Before I can explain, Hammond- ever the intense and eager one- whips out his Pulse Rifle, pressing on the trigger without hesitation. Deimos reacts in an instant, forming a tendril that latches on the high-tech weapon, wrenching it out of his hands. “Isaac!”
“Don’t–!”
I say pointedly, casting a glance at the engineer whose voice seems to have failed him. “You two knew there’s somethingdifferent about me. Well… Now you know.” My mind is practically whirling FTL with how quick I come up with an explanation. Throwing on a winning smile, I gesture behind my shoulder, mentally nudging the Klyntar who, to my surprise, shows with no resistance. “This is Deimos, and he’s an alien I met some time ago.”
Pausing momentarily to allow the information a second to sink in, I add hoping his response will be somewhat positive. “Our relationship is still pretty complicated, but I would like to think we are fostering a wonderful friendship, aren’t we?”
The lump sprouting from my shoulder reveals a toothy smirk as he responds excitedly.
“YeSss. ONe of BLOoD anD CaRnAGE!” Disregarding the urge to slap Deimos over the head, my smile goes stiff as I chide. “Deimos, play nice. They’re–”
Like a toddler throwing a tantrum, the Klyntar interjects with a throaty, “HoStileSs. SHOot uS agaIn aND I’Ll BItE off YoUr HeADs.”
His presence, obstinate as ever, merges back into my being, heedless of the burdens I'll have to shoulder thanks to him.
"Asshole!"
I mumble a curse, almost tempted to charge into the depths of the Singularity Core purely out of spite. Yet, the desire to preserve my own life ultimately prevails, leading me to abandon the dangerous intrusive thought since… Well, survival obviously takes precedence over mere thoughts and feelings. “Look, I get it. In your addled, exhausted and hungry mind, it’s hard to apply critical thinking, but ask yourself this: If I were in cahoots with the Marker, would I have blown my cover to save you?”
I send a pointed glare at Hammond specifically, who responds with a furrow of his brows.
“Or maybe that’s what you want us to think.”
“To do what?!” I exclaim in exasperation.
“The Marker only needs one Maker- just one person in order to spread the knowledge of its creation, which I can do fine. You two are not needed, not alive anyway… If I were working with the Marker, you would be part of a writhing mass of necrotic flesh by now. With Deimos, I am stronger- faster, it won’t even be a fight. So–“
I drawl.
We all know how outclassed they are. I can murder them quicker than their fingers on the triggers can twitch. “Please trust me when I say I mean neither of you harm.” Slowly, I go near Hammond’s discarded firearm and, under their cautious gazes, kick it next to the Officer's foot as a gesture of goodwill. “There you go… Just, don’t shoot me. I’ll probably survive, but it will hurt and in spite of all my faults, I’ve thankfully not developed any masochistic tendencies.”
I mutter the last part, just loud enough for them to catch, but not enough to seem… Purposeful in a hope it will make me appear more humanin their eyes. “Please, we can’t have infighting, not when we’re so close to the end.”
That, apparently, is the wrong thing to say as Hammond twitches. “Maybe you are trying to trick us into bringing you to Earth.”
I immediately counter. “You realize the Ishimura has a Star Map, right? Plus you can rest assured, I don’t plan on coming back to Earth with you three anyway.”
“WHAT? What’re you talking about, Julius?”
I reply with a cocky smile. “I’m going to stay and ram the Ishimura into the Marker, buy us more time. The task of helping Humanity… I will have to leave it to you guys.” My outdated BlackBerry slides in my palm, screen lit up and spilling a cache of Compound V. “Before you ask, inside are vials of Enhancement Serum. It’s the super-secret weapon I told you earlier. Bring it to Earth Gov… May it help Humanity pass this hurdle in its path.”
After a momentary pause, the engineer responds. “What kind of self-sacrificing bullshit are you sprouting? This is no time to play the hero, Julius!”
His nostrils flare as he approaches- fearless, but Officer Hammond stops Isaac in his track. “Enough! The Singularity Core’s ours to take, let’s leave before the monsters come. We can deal with this later.” The urge to say: ‘Don’t jinx us’ is there- present, but I vehemently stomp on it. “Hammond’s right. We gotta go, I sense more Necromorphs are converging towards our location, so unless you two want another round of melee…”
I trail, stare aimed pointedly at the ceiling above.
By the time I’ve finished, over a hundred Necromorphs have come out of the woodwork, rearing their heads in search of a way to reach us- their combined weight causing the hull of the Valor to buckle as steels bend and bolts struggle against the horde. “We need to go. We need to go RIGHT FUCKING NOW!” Without wasting a moment, I charge towards the two men, ascending the stairs with one in each arm as a group of Slashers make their presence known.
Snarling, the Undead’s twisted- unfeeling visages seem to have gained a touch of anger to them, whereas before it’s all business.
The Marker's apparent displeasure with my previous words may have incurred consequences, yet I find myself unbothered by the potential repercussions,
And neither should you.
The Marker's primary objective is the Convergence which requiresthe annihilation of Humanity, and whether it is angered or not, it’ll continue to strive for our demise regardless. The only distinction now is that it appears more determined- resolute. Fortunately, since I am no longer constrained by the need to conceal my… Uniqueness, the playing-field's already leveled.
"Isaac, hold on.” I utter to Isaac as Deimos erupts into a viscous cloud that engulfs both men. In that moment, a flood of information and memories assail my mind, momentarily threatening to overpower my consciousness. Yet, I quickly regain my composure- managing to remain steadfast as we break through the encirclement, tendrils ejecting from every spot on my body to impale them, meanwhile Isaac and Hammond- guns poking through the holes I’ve purposefully left open as to not suffocate them- rain Hells on the monstrosities.
Not stopping at that, the alien then proceeds to rip the Necromorphs to pieces, bathing the facility in foul-scented bloody chunks. As if to taunt us, the flickering lightbulbs suddenly shut off, changed into an anxiety-inducing red that the Necromorphs blend into perfectly, their red and inflamed skin acting like a sort of natural camouflage.
Isaac and Hammond struggle against the swift onslaught of the scurrying Necromorphs, but their troubles do not plague me.
Thanks to the Klyntar augmenting all aspects of my physical abilities, senses included, I can navigate the darkness effortlessly.
With a swift outstretch of my palm, I seize a Necromorph mid-flight with the Kinesis Module and hurl it towards its brethren. The result is a gruesome display of pulverized flesh, shattered bones, and spilled organs. Meanwhile, Deimos conjures a grenade from my device, leaving no trace of the monstrous creatures behind.
As I process the events, a sense of confusion washes over me. "What the–?"
I ponder aloud. It strikes me as particularly odd because, if I recall correctly, Anna explicitly informed me that no one but myself will have access to the Magnus App. Could she have been lying or is my memory playing tricks on me?
‘You have a lot to explain, woman.’
* DING!
‘But not now.’ I add, clinging to the wall as I drop Hammond and Isaac. All the larger threats have perished- the Slashers; their enhanced variants…etc, leaving only a small horde of Swarmers I’m rather confident they can deal with. In comparison, the five Infectors that are crawling up and down the walls pose a bigger risk, hence why I decide to focus on them first. “I can handle these guys! You guys just focus on the Swarmers.”
Isaac has gone through much worse.
It can be assumed that Hammond has had plenty of experience dealing with Necromorphs as well.
Even if I had severely overestimated his combat skills, Swarmers are possibly the weakest type amongst the Necromorphs whose sole strength lies in their number, he shouldn't face any problems, not while Isaac’s backing him up. But–
“Argh!”
I drop from the ceiling as a bullet slams into my shoulder.
“HAMMOND! What are you doing?!”
I hear Isaac scream in horror, unable to muster the strength to care as pain radiates through my back. “It’s it! It's the thing that’s controlling Chen’s body!” The Officer’s voice hitches, filled with a stiff madness as Isaac charges towards him, pushing Hammond, who has clearly been driven insane by the Marker, to the ground. It accomplishes two things: First, it saves them from receiving a free- gory haircut, and two: It gives me respite.
With the stabbing pain vanishing, I hold my breaths, overwhelmed by a surge of irrational anger as I glare at him.
Twenty times- P̸̡̛̻͓̫͉̼̣̲͍ͯͧ͌ͦ̅ͫ̏͘͠O̷͚̩̯̗̗͉̳ͮ́̏ͬͯͫ̿ͤ̉V̘̦͙̖͊ͩ̎̏͂̓̌̽̍̌̀͝͞ ̸̡̮̪̔͌̿͑͊͛̐͐̂̈͘͝Ş̙͉̘̟̯̗͖̲ͦ̌̓̌̔̍̓̂̅͘͠͞҉w̍̉i̸̷̞̪ͪ͗͢҉̶t̳͎̹̥̭̀͂̔͂çͩͪ̈̓̂ͤͣ̕ȟ̢͓̪̫̠ͩ̇ͣ̂̎̂́͢͝͡͞- I was shot, twenty lashes the fool shall be granted for his blunder.
Whether he lives through it is none of my concern. An Infector leaps on my head, its elongated stinger wrapping around my neck. With a hurried and smooth motion, I pry the creature down, shrugging the pain away as the spikes on its tail peel a layer off our skin, its tail ripped out of its body which also happens to remove its spine in the process. And, without the benefits of a vertebrae, the Infector can only flail helplessly in our hold.
A taunting smirk adorns my lips as I chuckle, drinking in the sight of its bloodied, writhing form.
“Julius?” With bloodshot eyes, we whirl to the pathetic humans in front of us.
The engineer- Isaac, has to live.
We still have needs for him, but that Hammond guy? He needs to go, and he needs to go fast.
A growl reverberates our vocal cord as we put the Infector’s carcass to better use- a weapon to rid ourselves of the monstrosities encircling us… Like bloody balloons, they pop whenever struck by our deteriorating weapon. There’s the Pulse Rifle still, but we've always been an ‘up close and personal’ type of guy. Firearms have never interested us, not when we can cleave bullets midair with a damn kitchen knife; strike people faster than their minds can comprehend and leave dents in solid steel walls.
Guns aren’t fun,
Carving into flesh with a knife is.
The limb of a Divider tries and fails to latch onto our neck.
Sidestepping the creature, we stomp it with enough force to splatter its innards before kicking a second one at Hammond. “JULIUS?”
“He’s… Absent, at the moment.”
There’s no reason to hide the amusement in my voice. I'm not that guy, I’m… Better. Isaac Clarke will do as I say, or I promise whatever emotional and mental anguish the sentimental fool's experiencing will very soon be surpassed by physical pain. “If you have a message, I’ll be sure to pass it along.” I joke, savoring the fear and horror etched into his face. “Wh- What are you talking about? What the Hell did you do to him?!”
Gaze lingering on Hammond, who’s desperately fighting off the Necromorph, clawing and pushing even though his hands have gone numb, I laugh- sauntering towards the two through the horde. Grabbing a Slasher by the neck, twisting its arms in their sockets and causing wet squelches until the limbs start to loosen, I put my foot on Divider#2, slowly increasing the pressure whilst Zach Hammond screams for his life. “You think you can shoot at us then just feign ignorance, you fuck?”
“Urgh- Isaac!”
They both shout.
“Stop it!”
Casting a glare at Isaac, specifically his Plasma Cutter, I challenge. “You want me to stop? Make me.”
“Goddammit! Don’t make me do this, Julius!”
Letting loose an exasperated sigh, I scowl.
“Did you not hear a word I said? It’s Julian.”
It’s the name I- We had agreed upon. Yes, it does sound oddly Mexican, but it was merely a result of us changing the last two letters.
Even monsters were kids once, after all.
“Get away from him!”
Ever so slightly, I raise my chin in response, lips stretched wide as tendrils penetrate the remaining Necromorphs. “Like I said, make me. C’mon! You know what you must do!” My eyes bore holes in the high-tech firearm in his hands; in his twitchy, armored palms. “Take the shot!”
“N- No! Don’t make me do this!”
Isaac repeats shakily, desperation the most prevalent through the turbulent of emotions swirling within him. “Take it! Be a man for once in your damn life, Clarke! Shoot me!!!” Volume rising higher, I palm my chest as though to say, ‘Shoot here’, but the lowly human just remains completely motionless.
Boredom grips me as I heave a heavy sigh to display my disappointment. “Fine. Since you’re not going to help him…”I trail, then–
Mercilessly, I press Divider#2 in Hammond’s face, holding back a laugh as redness spreads under my feet. Pointing at his face, I smirk. “His death is on you, Isaac.” Horrified by the sight that greets his eyes- one of Divider#2 feasting on the dark-skinned man’s carcass, Isaac lets loose a wrathful roar, rushing towards us rather than doing the logically thing, which is to shoot at us from a distance or… Better yet, roll over like the good boy that I know he is deep down. “It’s on you.”
I repeat, and to further drive in the point, I pull my leg up- foot connecting with what’s left of the Officer’s skull and the Necromorph. “It is your fault. Just like it was with Nicole… She’d still be alive if you hadn’t convinced her on this suicidal trip, Isaac.” My smile widens until my cheeks hurt. Cheekily, I taunt. “I must admit I’m impressed. You’re like a harbinger of Death- a walking omen! Am I even safe standing this close to you?”
“FUCK YOU!”
The human roars, so wrathful- so… Full of despair.
Most will disagree, but me? I believe there’s beauty in such anguish!
One merely has to observe.
“Sorry, but I don’t swing that way.”
In a moment of frustration, that final act becomes the straw that breaks the camel’s back. With a scream of exasperation Isaac charges and I raise my fist- ready to intercept his blind swing. However, a rare moment of hesitation engulfs me, causing unrest within. ‘Hesitate?! I don’t hesitate!’
I think vehemently. Julius Campbell’s a child obsessed with a dream that’s not even his- not Julian, my knuckles inadvertently connecting with Isaac’s helmet, sending the man sprawling on the floor. Injured, but alive. Straddling the man, I rain hit after hit while he struggles to put up a fight- Well, calling his attempt to defend himself a fight is me being generous. It’s more like he’s… Flailing angrily.
The first hit knocks him to the ground- his head bouncing off the metallic wall.
The second sounds like a thunder strike,
The third drains the fight from him, leaving the once roused human a groaning mess.
He tries to reach for the Med Kit next to him, only for me to kick it a distance away. “You’re lucky I haven’t digested your memories fully, or you'd have had no more use for the likes of you.” I threaten, signaling for him to get on his feet which may seem counterintuitive at first but the whole point of the beatdown was meant to teach him who’s in charge, not to kill the human.
Although, ‘I may not need him after all.’
As the black tendrils snake out from my sleeves, they wrap around the nearly unconscious form of Isaac, ensnaring him in their grip. Helpless, he can only watch as the surreal transformation takes place.
In an instant, memories floods through my mind, overwhelming me with images and knowledge from a civilization far beyond ours technological advancements- emerald depths rolling to the back of my skull as I'm consumed by unfamiliar visions in which I bear witness to a boy’s growth, spying in the background as he absorbs and devours knowledge in his pursuit of a better life.
I witness his struggles and triumphs; how life constantly knocks him down only for him to rise again through sheer determination.
Within these visions, I am connected to the life of Isaac Clarke, experiencing his journey firsthand and thus. Instead of spending years confined within the metal boxes that this version of Humanity call ‘schools’, I absorb the mastery directly from the source, extracting knowledge from his mind while marveling at the incredible abilities of the Klyntar.
This may not be ‘Instant Mastery’, but it is as close as it gets, and I'm for it wholeheartedly.
As I stumble backward, consciousness returns to me, and I find myself confronting the menacing sight of a Plasma Cutter aimed directly at my face.
“Finally got the nerve, huh?” I remark, swiftly dodging the point-blank shot with ease, likely due to the concussive blow my opponent had suffered. An insufferable grin creeps across my cheeks as I leap forward, seizing the Plasma Cutter by its nozzle. “I have both good and bad news to share. Which would you like to hear first?”
Considering the state of his jaws from my previous blows, I don't expect to receive a response. It's all part of the grand theatrics. Suddenly, a Slasher, formerly known as Zach Hammond of the Valor, emerges from the darkness, lunging for my neck. With reflexes honed, I grasp it by the throat. “Persistent bastard... Even in death, you continue to be a pain in my ass.”
Nails digging into its lower jaw, I then proceed to peel the front of the undead's torso like a banana, before stomping its limbs to paste, effectively immobilizing the Necromorph.
Meanwhile, Isaac swiftly regains his composure and retrieves his own Pulse Rifle instead of the ever trusty Plasma Cutter that still remains within my possession. With a twitch of my fingers, a tendril bats the weapon from his hands, slamming the human against the wall. The RIG behind him blinks red as I wander the room, ripping two steel bars directly out of the Valor's hull. I don’t know why I did it either, suppose I just find impalement a cool method to dispose of somebody?
"Hammond was right, Isaac. You should have ended me when you had the chance." As I raise the stainless steel bars, scraping them across his armored form. A malicious grin twists my lips as I revel in my newfound acquisition of his years of education and knowledge. "The good news, Isaac, is that all that you once possessed is now mine."
I chuckle darkly, relishing the power that courses through me. "The bad news, my friend, is that you are no longer of use to me. It will take time for me to assimilate and digest all this information, but rest assured, I will not be here when the Brethren Moons arrive."
With an air of sinister finality, I leave Isaac to contemplate the grim fate that awaits him. “Hu- Humanity– All that talk about saving us!”
“You really believed that horseshit?” I ask, covering my mouth in amusement. “Goddamn, you’re gullible. What the Hell does Humanity have to do with me?” The very ideal disgusts me, to be thrown together with the cesspool of degeneracy that is Mankind. “Fret not. I'm not the biggest fan of you bunch, but I dislike that fucking Marker even more. I won’t help it–”
The relief in his eyes is absolutely comical. Time to throw a wrench in that budding hope. “Does not mean I’ll help you bunch either. I’ll just… Watch as Earth burns.”
At least it will satisfy my hatred for the whole species. “W- Why?!”
“Because…” I drawl happily. “It’s going to be amusing- watching those worthless creatures fight for their fucking lives. Just like we were forced to.”
Isaac’s face contorts with disbelief and desperation. “You’re sick! You’re just as twisted as the Necromorphs!” He shouts, struggling against the inky restraints that hold him against the wall. I tilt my head, amused by his reaction. “Maybe so, but at least I embrace my darkness instead of putting on this… This pretense.”
I take a step closer, savoring the fear and anger in Isaac's eyes. “Have you ever heard of the Transcendent-Self and the Animalistic-Self? One’s taught and learned- unnatural. The other is inherent to us all; they are our truest selves- the repressed pains and anger and traumas, the parts thrown to the side in favor of the more socially acceptable, hidden in plain sight but never truly gone… Humanity seeks to embrace the first, detaches with the second- never realizing it’s not something they can discard. Why is that?”
The human’s voice shakes with fury. “You’re delusional!”
“No… No. Not delusional!” I correct. “Disillusioned is more fitting. The world deserves to burn- Humanity deserves to die off. The only reason I'm not doing it myself is because I can't be bothered to. There's no point hunting down the lowly; what will it even achieve?”
Isaac continues to flail in my grasp which, oddly enough, serves only to anger me.
“Oh, what am I saying? Of course you don’t. You’re just another fool who exists to be used and then discarded by superior lifeforms.” It’s not like I can judge, since I as well was idiotic enough to have thought he would understand. How would he? How would any of them? How would they know what it feels like to live in a state of ‘fight-or-flight’ constantly?
To be called upon when needed and thrown in a corner- forgotten in the next? Perhaps we are doomed to exist like this forever, and I am okay with that, as long as others are suffering too. “I guess this is goodbye.” I tap on his helmet and whisper, “Take that helmet off, Isaac… Look at me… I want you to look at me while you die.”
Aiming for the joints in his limbs, I lunge to impale the human only to discover an invisible force seizing my hands- freezing me in place. “Wha- JULIUS!” It does not take a genius to realize what’s happening, for there exists only one person capable of stealing control over our shared body.
The resulting impact when the steel bars collide causes me to careen backwards, tripping over my own feet as the symbiotic alien roars in agony- the slick goo making up its existence exploding outward in a disgusting display. “JULIUS!” I yell once more, trying to unhand the bars to little success.
“You fucking pussy! It’s my turn now!” His responses come in the form of steel bars hitting each other again and again, driving me nearly insane- not that I was sane to begin with.
I’m a fuse that can be easily lit with slight psychotic tendencies, but I’m nothing if not self-aware. ‘You're going to pay for this, I hope you realize that.’ I threaten, unfortunately the thought does not stay Julius’- our hands. If anything, it just makes him that much more enthusiastic. ‘BASTARD!’
‘You and I are both bastards, idiot.’
He taunts as a ball of acidic slime hits our back, prompting us to release a wretched scream- vocal cord vibrating in our throat as the substance burns through our alien guest. I pat my back- a move I'd never have done if my rationality weren’t being overwhelmed by pain receptors while our back burns and blister, all in an effort to put out a nonexistent fire even though realistically, I already know it's acid burns. Such… Irrationality is unbefitting of me.
The thought that I too am prone to mistakes- that I'm just as flawed as the rest of them filthy humans who crawl and prowl the streets like insects every single day lights a fuse in my chest, one I doubt will be extinguished any time soon. Whirling behind to find a Puker charging up its next attack. The creature reeks to high Heavens, looks just as ugly too.
Characterized by its deformed and bloated appearance. Its body is covered in bulbous sacs filled to the brims with acidic vomit, which it uses as a primary attack method.
These sacs are scattered across its body and pulsate in intervals, due to the volatile contents within. The creature stands on two long and twisted legs, hunching over with its elongated and contorted torso. Its arms are elongated as well, ending in sharp, claw-like appendages that it uses both for attacking prey and for its own locomotion.
As its name suggests, the foul creature’s primary method of offense involves projectile vomiting corrosive stomach acid at its victims- in this case, me. The vomit is highly toxic and can cause severe damage to anything it makes contact with, able to melt through both armor and flesh alike. It honestly surprises me the projectiles haven’t melted me to the skeleton, but whatever little emotions or astonishment I harbor have been completely overwhelmed by burning rage.
“You fucking–!”
Two steel bars still clasped in my hands, I throw them towards the Necromorph which, thankfully, Julius doesn’t fight. It explodes in a rain of blood and gores, the built-up gases reacting to the ‘invaders’, pressing against the walls of Puker’s innards until it's bloated. I duck as bone-fragments fly above, ricocheting off the metallic surfaces. If it were not personal before, it sure is now. I turn around, huffing due to a mix of anger and pain, only to realize I’ve miscalculated.
Suddenly finding myself without the benefits of legs which, as you may have guessed, are pretty important, I hold back an agonizing scream that threatens to spill from my lips. “Julius…” Isaac heaves. “Julian or whatever it is you call yourself… Die.”
No longer hesitating, the human pulls the trigger and flashes of blue instantly envelop my vision;
‘Sorry, Nanna. Guess this is it for papa.’
“No!”
Then, it all goes black.
“Not again!”
