Drip. Drip. Drip.
The blood dripped down from the body of a man, hung by a metal cord that was wrapped around his neck, severing the head slightly. It was an eerie sight but what was more disheartening was the way the dead man's eyes followed me wherever I moved.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Upon leaving the man, Golurk and I traveled on through the ship's decks and corridors, wading through flooded sections and stepping past more of the deceased. At first, I thought I was alone, save the rare call from P-Body and the regular stomps of Gurlock the Big Daddy, but soon, I noticed that something else was here, something following me. Hunting me.
I'm a little scared.
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