"Run!" Steber yelled, already dashing towards the door opposite from where they had entered the room. Mitchell, Porter and Cray wasted no time and were right behind him. Seeing its prey fleeing, the Beast chose not immediately give chase but instead paused and snarled at the running humans before charging after them. The creature's hesitation gave the team just enough time to get the door to slide shut before the Beast ran into it, severely denting inch-thick metal and knocking the door slightly off its track. Mitchell cried out, his arms going up to cover his head, but the door held even after a second dent appeared in it. The Beast growled once more and then the corridor was silent for a moment. Afterwards, Steber could hear heavy claws clicking on the floor as the monster paced back and forth. Eventually, the sound faded and the team could tell that they were alone again. For a long time, no one spoke.

"What... the hell... was that?" Porter finally stammered, breaking the silence.
"I believe that may be what killed the scientists here," Cray said. Steber spun to face the doctor. "Oh really, you think?" he spat. Cray turned away and Steber shook his head in disgust. Mitchell raised his eyes and faced his superior. "There must be more of them," he said.
"What?"
"Just one of those things couldn't have overwhelmed the entire station so quickly," Mitchell said.
"He's right," Cray said, daring to speak again. "This establishment consists of kilometers of corridors, tunnels, sub-basements and air ducts. If there was only one of those things, the scientists who weren't killed right away would have been able to send a more lengthy and descriptive distress call."
"So, what do we do?" Porter asked.
"We return to the dropship," Cray said. "There, we can make it back into orbit and escape."
"How like you to weasel your way out," Steber bitterly said to Cray.
"Come on, Sarge, I hate to agree with this guy, but that's our only hope!" Porter said.
"Yeah, if just one of those things could kill Crowley and Edwards, imagine what would happen if we ran into a pack of them!" Mitchell said.

Steber thought for a moment. Seeing that the Sergeant was considering giving in, Cray decided to pry a little further. "We are clearly unprepared for what has happened here. The most logical course of action is to return to The Godspeed and radio for help. Let UAC Command send an army down here if they have to! Not to sell us short, but three marines and myself aren't going to cut it."
"How do you propose we get back to the ship?" Steber asked. "This door isn't going to be functioning again any time soon and even if it was, I'm not going back into there with that goddamn thing loose.
"There are other ways back to the main entrance which will bypass that chamber," Cray said.
"You know how to get there?" Steber asked.
"Yes," Cray said confidently.
"One more thing," Steber said, deep in thought. "What were the scientists here working on?" Cray hesitated for a second and then answered, "I'm not sure. UAC was keeping this project very secret and even I was kept out of the loop as to what was going on." Steber was about to question Cray's last comment, but decided against it. He'd already had enough fights with the scientist for today.
"Ok, we'll do it," Steber said. "Let's get the hell out of here." Porter and Mitchell breathed a sigh of relief.
"This way," Cray said and pointed forward.

The four soldiers walked on for about ten minutes before Steber caught sight of something moving in the corridor ahead. Using a hand motion for silence he quickly backed up around the corner from which they had come. Porter and Mitchell did the same, but with no military training, Cray didn't understand the gesture.

"What are we stopping for?" the doctor asked, clearly irritated, and walked on ahead.
"Goddamn it, get back here!" Steber hissed. Finally, Cray got the picture and took a few steps back as well. Once everyone was out of sight, Steber peeked around the corner at the figure he had seen. About seven meters away, a human being was milling around, muttering quietly to itself. Mitchell stole a look around the corner and frowned. "I don't like this," he said.
"Me neither," Steber growled. "Something's wrong. He should have heard us by now."

A bank of lights flickered on and off behind the man and eventually one beam danced across the right side of his face. Cray was able to briefly make out the man's features and immediately smiled.

"Hey, that's Arthur Jamison! He's one of the mathematicians here!"
"Are you sure?" Porter asked.
"Yeah, he's an old friend of mine," Cray said and then called out, "Hey Art, its me, Walter!"

The man turned slowly to face Cray and said nothing. His back was to the lights now and all the team could see of the man was a black silhouette. Slowly, with all the grace of a drunk, he staggered towards the team and moaned loudly. A shiver went up Steber's spine and he took a step back.
"Doc, get back here," Steber said, grabbing Cray's arm.
"Let go of me, Sergeant!" Cray said, walking forward. "Art, are you ok?"

The silent man moved another foot forward and finally stepped into a pool of light cast by an overhead fixture. His entire face now illuminated, the team gasped. The right side of Arthur Jamison's face was fine, but the other half was decayed and hanging off his skull. The man's shirt was crimson red with dried blood and torn open, revealing dozens of long scars and scabs that had never healed. Jamison took one more step towards them, his motions jerking like a puppet on strings. Now Steber was hit full in the face by the stench rolling off the man. It smelled like a combination of rotting fruit and dead animal.

"Art!" Cray cried, still not grasping the whole picture. "What's wrong with you?"

Steber grimaced. This wasn't going to be easy.