Random Short-term Stories (Fanfictions)

Isaac Clarke: Tilling My Own Grave

Never in his life would he have thought he'd be undergoing such a traumatizing endeavor. To be fending for his dear life against the insane and the unthinkable. The grotesque, hazardous hurdles, and the unknown that constantly lurks in the shadows - waiting for him to slip up. In all sincerity, one has to wonder what keeps him treading down yet another narrow corridor with cautious steps, on edge, and body spiritually aching with anticipation. His trigger finger was vigilante. Trained under the stress of life & death situations. Fear, hope, and adrenaline were his driving forces. He was jaded. Tired. But, he kept reminding himself that this was all for Nicole.

Much to Isaac's surprise, the rest of the path to his destination was clear. No necromorphs to be heard or seen. Thus, he was to close in on the surveillance room with trouble.

"Okay, it should be just up ahead." He utters to himself while turning a corner and continuing on with his march. Just as the seasoned engineer nears the door, an involuntary disturbance reactivates inside his brain. A sickness that plagues him, manifested within the experience of witnessing sickening horror.

He comes to stand before the door, almost immediately extending his right hand out to the ID scanner beside it. It triggers a holographic display of a serial number and proceeds to read it. An affirming beep sounds off and the mechanical door peels open.

"...Isaac." She gently calls out, standing somewhat off to the side in front of the monitors and security terminal on the opposite side of the room. The tormenting haunting returns, raking over his core like claws of a beast that seek to cut deep and bleed him dry.

He knows she's not real. This was a fake... The irrational pessimism of the uncertainty that lies deep in his heart. From behind his protective helmet, he inhales through his nostrils and exhales heavily through the same method. Then, and only then, does he head inside. Approaching the display of screens and quickly getting to work, clacking away at keys with his free hand. His fingertips are precise and confident.

"Isaac..." She speaks his name yet again.

"Look, I don't want to hear it." He firmly informs, aloof in tone.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything."

"No, maybe not... Your stubbornness is keeping you from accepting the truth, Isaac. So I suppose you might as well be the blindest and bravest man on this ship." She retorts, cutting at the vulnerable spots of his facade. She gets a reaction from him. Stirring the engineer enough to break his focus and make him face what he tries to brush off as an illusion.

"What do you WANT from me?" He practically hisses from behind his obscuring mask as he takes a couple of steps toward her, towering over the source of his frustration.

"I want you to watch the video again, Isaac." She answers simply and directly, unfazed by the other's defensive body language.

Isaac gradually raises his nose – slowly tilting his head back as her response sinks into his psyche. He's distrusting, but longing to be rid of the metaphorical self-beating she ensues within his own thoughts. A silence graces the atmosphere for seconds, a dozen in fact, before he finally speaks up. Lowering his head to properly look her in those ghostly sick eyes of hers.

"If I watch it again, will you finally stop...?" His softer tone gives an impression of bargaining and sadness. Instead of answering however, the imposter of his fiancé moves closer. Her hands raising to rest at his shoulder and bicep as she guides back toward the active monitor he was just using a moment ago. He, of course, obliges with no resistance. Adjusting his placement to her liking until he had a diagonal view of the screen. She proceeds to guide the hand of that respective arm up to his protective helmet. Eventually, Isaac takes the initiative to synch his helmet with the system before him. Then, with creeping dread cradling his heart, he presses a button to start the very last form of contact he ever received from his fiance.

The video begins. It opens with Nicole sitting in front of a computer camera. Alone in a monochrome room of some sort.

"Isaac, it's me... I wish I could talk to you." Nicole begins, pausing briefly to release a disheartening sigh.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I wish I could just talk to someone. It's all falling apart here, I can't believe what's happening." The blonde takes a moment to breathe again, recollecting herself as she confronts the realization of her predicament. She looks at the syringe within her hand and holds it up just enough for it to be clearly visible to the recording camera. Honesty without spoken admission.

"It's strange... All it takes is to be confronted with one little strange thing. I never wanted it to end like this. I really wanted to see you again. Just one more time at the very least..." She expresses her regret. Not in trembling horror or hysterical behavior, but calm acceptance. A soft smile curves the corners of her lips as she stares warmly at the camera – at Isaac back when they were planets apart from one another.

"I loved you. I have always... Loved you." Much like the first time he heard that last bit, her choice of past tense tugged uncomfortably at his being. Just like before, he also pauses the video there.

"Are you happy now?" He asks, already pushing at the nagging thoughts and emotions that begin trying to claw their way out. All but one.

"Finish the video, Isaac."

"I did."

"Isaac."

"What else is there to see? I got her message."

"Isaac."

"Me being here is proof that I did. I know she's still here somewhere."

"Why, Isaac? Why won't you just finish the video? What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything..."

"Then you'll hit play again and keep watching for me, won't you?" The haunting presence asks in test of his claim. Again, silence sweeps through the room like the caress of a chilling winter breeze. The two stare at one another for what feels like an eternity. In truth, she was just a hallucination. Isaac was by his lonesome. Alone in a room with his greatest demon.

"Please... Finish the video. Just this once, Isaac." She insists. The engineer turns his head back to the monitor displaying Nicole's last message to him. Staring sileny, as if his mind was blank. All emotion hidden behind the protective helmet of his rig suit. He says nothing as the moment expands. Then, he suddenly reaches for his temple again to push a button, and the video continues.

He's subjected to the sight of her brushing back the sleeve of her left arm, then the sound of her quivering breath makes itself heard as she readies the needle of the syringe over the exposed skin. She hesitates, visibly trembling as her expression bears confliction. Nonetheless, Nicole makes her decision before his very eyes and carries out a self-euthanization. The needle punctures the flesh, prying into her bloodstream, and her thumb presses down onto the blunt end. Emptying the substance entirely. Then, it becomes a slow burn... a nightmare of watching as death claims her. Freeing her from the inevitability of her situation, and stealing away Isaac's world before his very eyes. Then, within her drowsy state, she speaks her final words to him.

"Goodbye, Isaac..." She softly speaks. Just as it looks she would go limp entirely, the video length reaches its conclusion. Nicole had died weeks before he came here.

And right now, Isaac was robbed of his naivety. He hunches over while setting his railgun aside, hanging his head as his palms rest upon the smooth portion of the surface in front of him.

"...I knew she was dead. I knew, but I still came." He admits to no one but himself. He was angry, frustrated, sad, distraught, and lost. Yet still, the question needed to be asked.

"Then why did you come here, Isaac?"

"I came here..." He attempts to begin, but a swelling pain in his chest and the warm wet streaks that brushes the surface of his face causes a moment of internal stumbling.

"I still came here because I was afraid, okay? I was so afraid..." He admits, shutting his eyes just as his vision was becoming blurry with tears of agony. A soft scowl claims his features under his helmet as shame eats him from the inside out. He had to face the truth of the situation. Or at least, begin to do so... His first step was grief. Isaac felt as though he had failed her completely.

"And what were you afraid of? Confirmation of the truth?"

"I was afraid of living a life that didn't have you in it anymore."