Alright, so originally this was meant to be a scene per each day of October, but I couldn't get it together with all the school stuff and everything. So, as October draws to a close, I'll just post as many as I can think of. In any case, here is your warning; This work of fiction is centered around graphic violence, and also contains language. I've been told me style is extremely well detailed, so you've been warned. This fiction is intended for gore hounds, who should love the games.

My sick sense of fun is now conveyed...

DEAD SPACE: ISSAC' DELETED DEATH SCENES

BY THE YOUNG AND FREE DRAGON

"A Sacrifice To Survive

...Or Not"

(Takes place in Dead Space 2)

Issac sighed heavily. His meter was low as he stumbled through the darkened room. In his hands, the Ripper was held tightly, the blade inside spinning, making the slightest noise in the gloom. He stopped hunched over as he breathed heavily. Somewhere off in the distance, he heard a banging sound. He grit his teeth, but then opened his mouth again, his body needing oxygen so bad that it would not allow him any show of emotion. He looked up. An air vent was just across the room. He began stumbling. He wanted to get out of here before the necromorph got here. The less fighting he had to do, the better. But as he stumbled in front of the air lock, three yellow-orange beams appeared in front of him. He turned and saw they were behind him. A picture of a woman appeared across the room, telling him of his trespassing.

"Fuck." He grunted.

Suddenly, a Leaper burst out of the air vent, growling and spitting. He raised his Ripper, his finger tightening around the trigger, preparing to shoot a blade into the creature. But as it thrashed forward it hit one of the beams and was blown to shreds, the air lock exploding and the door going down. Issac fell on his back with a cry, dropping the ripper as he was dragged toward the open space. He wrestled his Plasma Cutter from his belt and fired off two shots without succession at the button to close the gate. He was within feet of the gate as his boots lost their tread on the floor and he was drug on to his side, face down. He felt the door passing beneath his hand and let out a cry as he was sure he was to be sucked into dead space, but suddenly the door began to go up. It lifted him up, closing on his armpit and shoulder. He let out a cry of pain as it squeezed, crushing arteries and tendons and blood exploding out of the back of his bicep, piece of flesh and muscle floating off into space. But suddenly the power cut and the machine stopped, holding his arm in a death grip, but no longer trying to break it. He fell limp, tears rolling down his face as he hung there by his mangled arm.

It hurt. It hurt more than he could describe. Almost as much as the pain of his dementia. He was about to give way to weeping in pain when suddenly he heard a coughing, gargling sound. He turned his head and saw the Leaper crawling toward him from about fifteen feet away. It's tail had been severed from the security beams and one of it's arms had been torn away, leaving frayed, burned flesh, spilling blood in a steady stream behind it. But it's head was very much intact, and it's jaws were snapping as it crawled toward him. Panic seized his stomach and began to shake him. It would be here within a minute, and it would surely tear him apart. He'd seen those jaws at work before. He pulled at his arm and let out a grunt of pain. It was stuck tight and what little suction was coming from space was keeping it in place. He struggled for another minute but his brain made him stop, refusing to let him hurt himself anymore this way, and he knew it was no use. He looked down below himself and there was his Plasma Cutter. He'd dropped it as he had been lifted in the air, but it was right beneath him. It would be no problem to grab it he could only... if he could only get down there.

But there was no chance of that. His arm was stuck tight and there was no way he could kick it or something with his feet. He was about five feet above it. But... if he could detach himself from his arm, he could get down to it. Panic squeezed his stomach tightly as he thought of this, but his brain began rationalizing it. The arm was useless. Most of the muscle and bone had been crushed by the gate. If he tore himself down, he could grab the Plasma Cutter and kill the Leaper, and maybe find something he could make into some sort of tourniquet, or hell, even shove something in the wound. Whatever to stop the bleeding. He wrapped his fingers around his crushed bicep and began to wrench at it, moving his shoulder as much as he could. As he thrashed about, the arm finally came out of the socket, and the abused flesh of the arm tore easily. He let out a violent cry of pain that seemed to cut the his throat as it burst through him. The white bone of his shoulder was exposed, cold air biting it and the flesh around. He kept screaming, and his movements cause the flesh on his shoulder blade-the only thing keeping him attached to his arm- to tear and he began to fall toward the ground. But suddenly, he jerked violently in the air and let out another loud scream, the pain intensified as though someone was jerking on the bloody flesh. He looked up and saw that he was suspended by a strip of flesh from his arm. As he wrapped his fingers around it to tear it, the strip snapped and slid through his fingers, slippery as wet pasta. He fell hard on his back and let out another cry, laying there, fresh blood spilling from his torn arm. He lay on his stomach panting, slowly realizing that his helmet had been knocked off by the fall and he was lying on his face.

He lay there for a second before his objective entered his pain clouded mind and broke the hold it had on his brain. He forgot about the fiery explosion that had consumed the stump where his arm had been and he grabbed his Plasma Cutter, lifting his head from the floor to look around. But the Leaper was no where to be found. He jerked his head back and forth, his eyes wide as he searched for the monster. But even before he heard the scrapping of teeth and a talon hand behind him, he knew it was there, He turned over, firing off one shot from the Plasma Cutter before the necromorph's jaws closed around his forearm. He let out a cry of pain as the long teeth dug into his flesh and it began to wrench it's head back and forth, thrashing it's body around in the excitement of spilling Issac's blood. It reared it's head back and his forearm came off at the elbow, jagged flesh spilling blood on to Issac's screaming face.

The Leaper then dug it's teeth into his head and his skull crushed in it's mouth, stabbing into the soft tissue of his brain. His mouth was still letting out horrified screams of pain, even though he was probably no longer aware of anything. The monster reared it's head again and his head popped off like a grape from the stem, blood splattering in a foot long radius, and then being covered by fresh crimson as his neck spewed it's scarlet fluids.

I hope you've enjoyed the first installment. I shall hopefully have one each day. Please review and I'll see you guys soon.