Chapter 1: I Don't Know You

"What have you done?" The words left her mouth before she could stop them, and regret inevitably set in as a pair of dark eyes shifted in her direction. They weren't the eyes that she remembered, but something else entirely as the man before her regarded her frightened countenance. She tried to control the trembling, but her hands wouldn't hold still as the gun in her grasp wavered, the barrel pointed toward the floor in one of her poorer decisions. She should be pointing the weapon at her former lover, and she knew it. Yet part of her hoped to see something within his eyes akin to the warmth that they'd once shared. Where had it gone? Where had he gone?

"You came," the man breathed. He stood before two stasis chambers, grotesque figures with seemingly charred and blackened skin within, their eyes glowing in dead stares as their hunched and contorted bodies floated. They looked like those damn necromorph creatures, yet the woman had never seen their kind before, and for good reason. Doctor Challus Mercer had made them into what they were: unwilling human subjects strapped down and subjected to viral implantations that mutated them into killing machines. The very idea made her sick, and she'd thrown up when she found the recording of the experiments.

"Samantha, come closer," the man beckoned. "Come see my work—God's work."

"No," she staunchly refused, swallowing hard as he regarded her with the same condescending lift of his brows that had once been turned on greener doctors. He'd never used that expression against her before, but this wasn't the same man that she'd once loved, even if he looked the same with his short, black hair and neatly trimmed beard. His stance also remained unchanged, for he stood straight with hands clasped behind his back, a thoughtful cast to his face, and for that moment, she almost believed that he was the same man.

"You're just like the rest," he roughly concluded. "Unworthy of the gift that has been bestowed on us."

"This isn't a gift," she argued with a nervous shake of her head. "It's a goddamned curse."

"No!"

"Challus..." The soft sound of his name from her lips made him sigh in exasperation and grip the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

"Just like the rest. So insignificant." He released his nose and scoffed at the horrified expression on the woman's face as he lovingly placed a hand on the glass before him, his eyes admiring as he stared at his creations. "This is the future, Samantha. Look at them! They're brilliant, and so much more adaptable and stronger than us. They were meant to replace us." This was too disturbing by far, and Samantha had been convinced that nothing would ever startle her again—not after seeing her roommate bashing a bruised and bloody forehead against the wall while screaming about unification. Maybe the matter was worsened because she'd loved this man before the world went to hell, and for both of them to be reunited in this manner was cruel and troubling beyond the grime and gore that coated her boots and pants.

"You aren't trying to fight them?" she asked, confused.

"All will be made clear," Mercer promised. "Come!" He spun and extended a hand toward her, and despite her reservations, she reached for him. His hands still felt the same against her skin as he pulled her closer, right up against his side, where his arm locked around her hips. The gun quivered in her hand, and he told her that she didn't need it, but she refused to release it. This was not right. Being in the arms of a mad murderer wasn't right, but it felt so similar to how he'd once treated her. Maybe he was still in there somewhere...

"Put your hand here," he instructed, placing her palm against the glass, his on top of hers. "Can't you sense the power that they possess? You must embrace your own destruction, for your death will not be meaningless, Samantha. That I promise. Our deaths will have great significance." His hand felt so warm against hers, and she instinctively leaned into his touch, feeling his beard brush against the side of her face. It might as well have been eternity since she'd felt anything so human, and it was absolute heaven in this hell of a space ship.

"I'm scared," she confessed, not even bothering to tell him how crazy he sounded. What was the point? She was no saner than him, and she couldn't claim to be when she'd seen her dead mother only a few minutes ago. She didn't know if it was the influence of the marker, the infection, or maybe her brain's addled attempts to cope with her dire surroundings, but either way, Mercer's touch was real. No one could blame her for ignoring his ravings for the sake of comfort.

"There's no need to be scared," he whispered in her ear, deep voice resonating within her. "Only the weak fear the inevitable. It is our purpose to die and pave the way for a greater life form." His voice shook with fervor as Samantha wished to bury her face in the crook of his neck and never lift it again. She too sensed that life was coming to an end, but unlike him, she didn't want to see it coming. Let it stab her in the back when she wasn't looking rather than being forced to watch as one of those damned creatures tore her apart.

"We could find an escape pod," she weakly suggested, praying that he'd agreed with her.

"There are none left."

"What do you mean?" Frantic now, she stepped away from him, and he merely stood there staring at her, his eyes devoid of humanity, and making her wonder if perhaps he hadn't gone completely insane. "Did other people use them?" she continued, unsettled by the confident tone that he'd used to answer her.

"No," he dismissed. "I launched them."

What the hell?

She wanted to believe that Mercer was still the man she loved somewhere beneath this fanatical talk, but his latest response cracked her illusion, and the urge to scream was working its way up her throat. Why did her only hope need to be destroyed? At least she could have shared a last few human moments with a kind soul before death, but even that was taken from her, and she cursed the marker like she never had before. Somehow the artifact was responsible for this. She just knew it.

"It's destroyed you too," she softly stated, retreating a few more steps to put some distance between her and this stranger. She would have cried, except that there were no tears left—not after seeing her friends ripped to pieces while trying to hide in a locker room. There had been only one entrance, and once it was blocked by the enemy, they'd been slaughtered, leaving Samantha to scream at the computer monitor until her throat failed her.

"I saw you from the security bay," she droned on, unsure of why she was telling Mercer this. "I saw you, and I was so happy. I needed to find you, even though they told me that you'd lost your mind. I couldn't leave you! I couldn't lose you too, but I see that I already have, so I ignored your message for nothing." Her lower lip quivered as she checked her gun's energy level, trying to distract herself from the completely emotionless response that Mercer was giving her. He stood there, face dark in contemplation, and hands again behind his back. He was displeased about something, but she didn't know what could upset this foreign version of the man.

"You speak of things that you don't understand," he mused. "I haven't lost my mind; I've been enlightened, and as far as this message goes...I left you no message. I haven't seen you in days."

"I found the recording in your desk." For the first time, she noticed that his white research uniform was remarkably clean considering the chaos around them, and she absently wondered how he'd kept blood off of himself. "I know that you hate people in your office, but I couldn't find you anywhere, and security was trying to move everyone into another part of the ship. You weren't there, but you'd left me a recording telling me to leave the Ishimura because we'd never win. You also said that...that I should take the spare gun in your locker." Her eyes moved to the cutter in her hand before she allowed herself to look upward. Mercer stood with his back to her, his body facing the stasis tank with the largest of his two specimens.

"I made no such recording," he reiterated. "I would never tell you to leave. In fact, I want you to stay and witness my accomplishment. I've singlehandedly helped evolution take a major leap forward. The only question is whether or not your worthy to share in my triumph."

"Challus..."

"I knew that you were alive. Rodney told me before he...well, before he contributed to my study." Samantha's eyes grew wide, her mouth working to find saliva as she stared at the suspended creature before her.

"You don't mean...that isn't...? How could you do such a thing?!" Mercer shook his head and sighed, clearing his throat in a way that signaled an upcoming lecture.

"His fate is beside the point," he dismissed. "And don't interrupt, Samantha. You know how I hate that." She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut and never open them again, willing his words to cease even as she focused on them with a sick fascination. "As I was saying, he told me that you were still alive and looking for me, and I'd hoped that you would find me. I knew that if I left the research recording somewhere, you might come to me. You were always brilliant, Samantha. You could still play a role in this, and there isn't anyone else with whom I'm willing to share my work."

"I came here to save you," Samantha protested. "Not to make monsters." The sharp wail of scratching metal suddenly sounded overhead, and she instinctively pointed her gun at the nearest air vent, waiting with dread for an attack. Muscles tense and eyes wide, the seconds ticked by with unbearable slowness, and her concentration was only interrupted by Mercer, who was gently laughing as he turned and looked at her.

"This room is secure," he assured her. "I can't have my work being interrupted before its completion." He began walking toward her, and Samantha raised the gun, pointing it at his chest.

"Please don't come any closer," she begged. "I don't want to hurt you."

"Ah, Samantha, you hold that gun like a child," he teased. "How many times have I told you that you weren't made for combat, but desk work?"

"A million," she answered, bittersweet memories bubbling to the surface. "You also used to shoo me out of the lab when a dangerous experiment was starting. You didn't want to see me hurt back then, but now you would gladly have me die." She shook her head in denial as Mercer's eyes became more imploring, their softness transforming him into the man that she'd loved—no, correction, whom she did love. She'd seen the madness wax and wane in others before they were killed, and perhaps the same was true of Mercer. She hoped not, for she'd rather have him completely gone than shattered into pieces.

"Samantha," he began, lifting a hand toward her, but she swatted it away.

"No," she refused. "I won't help you. You...you're not who you once were, and I will shoot you if you try to harm me." She didn't actually think that she could, but he seemed to believe her bluff, for he stopped advancing.

"Very well," he snorted, eyes again cold. "Go rush to your death. You had your chance to achieve greatness, but you've thrown it away like a coward. Run, Samantha. I have company coming, and he's going to meet my child." What the hell did that mean? Samantha decided that she'd be wiser to kill Mercer now and spare herself further heartbreak, but she froze with her finger resting against the trigger.

Do it, she commanded herself, half expecting to see Mercer fall, but he remained upright and seemingly oblivious to the danger threatening him. He was right: she was weak, and the thought left a chilling trail across her mind, the fact that she couldn't kill him resounding like a mantra behind her eyes. Mad or not, Mercer was human, and if she killed him, she might be utterly alone on this ship.

Make us whole again.

"Stop!" she ordered, desperate to remove the voice from her head.

"Soon," Mercer soothingly reassured his 'child', causing a tear to slide down Samantha's cheek. An insistent whisper was reaching for consciousness from the back of her mind, and yet he just stood there lovingly looking at a damn thing like he'd once looked at her.

No. No. No. No. No.

Why had she taken a job on this doomed ship? She could have stayed home and worked in a nice, comfortable lab with trees outside the windows, but she'd met Mercer, and with a gentle suggestion, he'd singlehandedly convinced her to take a post on his research team. At the time, she'd been flattered by his offer, and after he'd invited her to dinner, that had sealed the deal.

"I would have followed you to the ends of the universe," she whispered for her own ears alone, and then she ran as fast as she could, leaving behind what could very well be the last living person that she'd ever see. She wanted to look back, but she wouldn't allow herself to do so lest the pain rip what was left of her mind in two.

Challus.

She willed herself not to cry as she heard the metal doors slide shut behind her. Again, she was plunged into a world where survival was fleeting, and every creak was a harbinger of death. Flighty feet tread softly as lights flickered overhead, the corridor walls smeared with blood, and the floor covered with scrawled messages. The setting had been terrifying before, but it was more so now, for of all the cruelties that Samantha had endured, being spurned by the person whose possible survival had driven her was nearly unbearable. She would find a secure room and rest, and that was the furthest that she planned. There was no point in thinking about the future when the world was a graveyard.

**************

"I would have followed you to the ends of the universe."

Mercer barely heard Samantha as he stared at the advent of a new order, but he did see her leave. He watched her reflection in the glass before him, and so he saw her dejected posture and how she fled the room as if pursued by a demon. She had failed his expectations, and he would not forgive her for that, but somewhere, something was telling him that he'd failed her.

Preposterous!

What were these strange, doubting thoughts that occasionally cropped up to haunt him? He couldn't identify their source, and he didn't understand why the presence of another human—just another body to be transformed by the wondrous life form that they'd uncovered—had sparked to life such odd thoughts. There was nothing to doubt, and he'd never even considered the possibility until now. If the female wouldn't help him, he would do this on his own. He didn't need her or anyone for that matter, and once his work was complete, he'd be free to join the unification.

Make us whole again.

"I'll join you soon," he promised the unseen force. He had felt it since the Marker had been brought aboard, and while it had first frightened him, he now understood that the calling was a blessing. Others resisted it and went mad, but he accepted the divine messages, and in doing so, he'd been given a mission, or rather, the mission had revealed itself once his vision broadened. The opportunity had been there since the start, when he'd begun fiddling with the organic growths found throughout the ship, and it had been a wonder even then. Samantha had helped him, and she'd too been amazed, but she was backing out at the most critical stage.

They all did!

Mercer had watched his comrades abandon the work one by one, each either dying or fleeing in horror, some even calling him crazy. Crazy? He would show them who was crazy! They were fools, and Samantha along with them if she wanted to die cowering in some dark corner, afraid of even her own shadow. Mercer spun and shook his head as he strolled toward the door through which Samantha had recently fled. He would wait and release his creation for the newest human intruders to handle, and that would be the ultimate test of his success.

What was that?

Mercer leaned down and lifted a small, sparkling object from the floor. It was a silver earring shaped like a triangle, and he recognized it instantly, for Samantha had always worn a similar set of jewelry. Hadn't he bought it for her? Despite the logical insistence that he dispose of the trinket, he held it and ran a finger over its surface, transfixed by its history, and disgusted with its emotional suggestions. Human attachment had no place in the new order, for everyone would be joined together in a family that needed no emotional bonds to function.

Get rid of it.

But Mercer hesitated before flinging the earring aside, and a strange urge stirred within his chest. For a moment, he looked at the creature in the next room and almost cringed, a feeling of revolted realization sweeping over his mind in a brief moment of clarity. What the hell was going on? Aghast, he jerked backwards, confused by the conflicting thoughts and emotions assaulting him, and he responded in the only way that he could: focus. Where was the familiar voice and fervor that had driven his cause? He searched and found it lurking behind his insanely idiotic urge to find Samantha, and once he had it within his grasp, he begged it to overtake him.

The mission...the unity...

"Yes," Mercer breathed, calm resettling over him. He would fight the madness that sometimes surfaced, for no human could manipulate him into believing the lies of humanity that he'd been fed for so long. Scientific ethics? What a laugh.

He heard another door open, and he readied himself for releasing his child. It was time, and he had to fight to keep from pressing the release button as a human male stepped into the room containing the stasis chambers. He would speak with this engineer before awakening death, for maybe this one would understand the larger picture, or maybe he would be like the rest and run in denial. Mercer's fingers moved toward a control panel as he swelled with pride and anticipation. Somewhere, in the corner of the room, a small, silver earring was forgotten.