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I glared across the room, greeted by the eyes of my fellow outpost crew. Out of the four of us in that room, one or more
It started a week ago. During the night hours, some giant rock or whatever crashed into our radar room, destroying whatever possible contact we
What complexed us the most was what that man said:
The first sign something was off, from my point of view, was when I was hanging out with a couple of my friends, Bennings and Fuchs, in the lounge room.
We both gave Bennings a confused look. He eagerly stared at both of us, almost as if he was expecting us to laugh.
Bennings rolled his eyes and leapt on top of the nearby night stand, crouching and entering a chicken stance.
What was left of Bennings was a writhing mass of flesh, spitting out occasional references to things we
The following week was a nightmare. Left and right, my fellow outpost members were turning into these
Blair was our only hope in finding a way to stop the spread, but it was already too late. Instead of mutating, he began a violent rampage in an attempt to stop us
After Windows, our only chef, offered us
Ten of us succumbed to the cancer within the next three days. With only four of us left, we had to do something drastic.
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And here we are. Three of my outpost mates sat at different seats in the small room, glaring at each other as I held the flamethrower in front of the four petri dishes filled with our blood, a metal spork in my other hand.
Clark snickered.
We all turned our attention to Clark. Without hesitation, I blasted him with a long burst from the flamethrower. His inhuman screams were louder than the crackling of the flames, and he leapt through a nearby window, collapsing in the snow and exploding into that familiar orange goop. We
I almost blasted him but, unlike all of the other references, this was one that I got. I trusted Childs.
A couple beats pass, and Childs and I turn our attention to Garry. We both came to the horrible realization that this test
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