I got this from the series of video games Dead Space, along with the movie Dead Space: Downfall....
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“All of my friends, gone. All of my family, gone. My whole world, gone. If you’re watching this, then you probably know more than I do.”
“I have to stop. I hear something.”
I finish recording and turn off the microphone. I reach behind me and slowly draw my Plasma Rifle from its holster that’s leaning against a wall. I check the ammo and place the gun on my shoulder. Its pitch black in the store, save for a few lights hanging from the ceiling. I flick on the laser sights on my gun, the three dots appearing in front of my gun.
Ahead of me, I hear something fall to the ground. I gasp and tighten my finger on the trigger a bit. I began to realize that it isn’t a Necromorph, as it would already have attacked me, unless the monsters have evolved and gotten smarter.
Still, looters can be just as bad as Necromorphs.
I hear scuffling in the darkness ahead of me, followed by whispers.
Yep, definitely humans.
They hear me by now, as when I get closer, I hear a female voice hush her companion. I silently move to the end of the aisle, anticipating a firefight. I spin out of cover and aim down the aisle. Nothing.
A blast from a plasma pistol sizzles past my ear, which I dodge. The shots continue, agonizingly loud in the small corridors of the store. I run back the way I came and flank my attacker. I run up to them, their bodies mere shadows in this darkness. “Please stop,” I growl at them. I see the shooter place his gun on the ground.
“I’m not your enemy,” I say as I point to a Necromorph patrolling the street outside, “They are.” “How do we know that you’re not the enemy as well?” the boy asks. “Because otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, would we?” I hiss. I pull my gun away and flick on my flashlight, exposing the newcomers.
A boy and girl, about my age, stand there. The girl is shaking in fear, while the boy tries to look brave but is obviously shaken. “Well, now that you’ve made a fantastic mess out of my hiding spot, we should clear out,” I growl. “What? Wait, what do you mean?” the girl asks.
“Your boyfriend here created a hell of a lot of noise when he started shooting. I give it twenty seconds until this place is completely overrun with Necromorphs,” I sigh. I look out the window and see dozens of the things gathering. ‘Make that ten,” I say wearily.
The glass from the skylight above us explodes. Shards of glass fall down onto our heads as a Necromorph descends upon us, causing absolute chaos. It doesn’t help that the girl is screaming her head off.