The next room Isaac enters is a disheveled looking work room of sorts. Papers and the like are strewn about haphazardly, but the surviving computers on some of the desks are still showing-

"WHOA! They have Law and Order on here!" Isaac exclaims as he nears the closest monitor to him. "And hey! I haven't seen this one! Oh shit yes!" Conveniently forgetting his pains for a moment, he stands transfixed as on-screen a loop of Stross's last interrogation plays out.

"-Eye seems to be looking much better today, yes? Don't you think?" One (as we know) Doctor Foster asks of the nervous, twitching patient seated before him.

"I don't remember this episode..." Isaac murmurs, squinting at the screen.

"I-It hurts, still hurts..." Stross's stressful voice tappers out as Foster talks blandly over his complaints.

"Yes, I have you scheduled for another session here tomorrow-"

"Er, no, no I don't think I'm ready, I don't think I can take another session, I don't-

"There, first thing tomorrow. Now let's talk about what you saw today. C'mon, Stross, help me out-"

"Ah screw this," Isaac says boredly, making his way past the first monitor and winding through the mess toward the door out. Before leaving he comes to one last monitor, showing the end of the scene playing out between those two. Stopping only for a second to watch the last moments before the loop resets, Isaac is left shaking his head in distaste.

"No wonder this clip never left the editing office..."

The next door he comes to leads him down an eerily red-lit hallway, the side 'windows' revealing panels and internal circuitry that the engineer finds less than interesting. What he needs right now is a way out...preferably minus the straightjacket, sooner or later. Overhead a loop recording of Tiedmann ordering a clean-up of the facility is heard again.

"No shit this isn't a drill," Isaac mutters to himself as he passes through the next door, to which he's met with the sight of a lone figure leaned against the glass of the side wall, staring down at the wreckage of what was once an observation room he himself had been in many times passed (though of course, he knows nothing of this).

"Er..." Isaac now pauses, unsure as to what his next move should be. From what he's seen so far, the necromorphs are on the rise, and every room he's yet passed through has been a scene of heightened discord. From his time spent within the confines of the great USG Ishimura, the signs tell him this man is most likely highly unstable. And judging said man's stance and creepy humorless chuckling to himself, the signs are correct.

He's also holding a wicked-looking shard of glass.

...Yup, he's fried. Isaac takes mental note as he tries to think up an escape plan. Ok, I'm in a straightjacket. There's a crazy, armed Marker-junkie guarding the door. This hall isn't very wide, sooooo...

A full minute of fruitless planning later and Isaac's wishing Pi were here. Pi might have had a good play somewhere in him.

Damned Pi and his shenaniganry...maybe I should just tackle this fuck-

"That's a horrible plan, love." a snide chuckle is heard -NOT from said nutter before him.

Isaac's expression turns grim(-er) and his eyes narrow darkly. "Never miss a trick, do you?"

"Of course not Isaac." Nicole's voice chides brightly. "Why didn't you tell me you were up?"

"Lassie, I haven't even been conscious a full twenty minutes and you're on me already? Get some hobbies in your afterlife! Geez!"

Angered by the fact that Nicole is -as usual- haunting the back of his brain, Isaac forgets all about his 'stealth' plans and just straight-on stalks toward the door, ignoring both the angry fog presumably yelling at him somewhere in his subconscious and-

"AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEE!" he shrieks as the hall spins in a whirl and he realizes he's just been grabbed by guess-who.

"Oh, that's you all right. Hehe, could tell by that pre-pubescent girly screaming, hehehehe..." The man's glassy eyes glitter wildly as he stares hard at Isaac, and the engineer is made uncomfortably aware that the glass shard he'd seen in the man's hand earlier is now pressed firmly against his throat. And now that he's about nose to nose with this guy...

"Er, um...don't I know you?" he asks tentatively.

"Ermhm, Patient Four, how, 'fondly', I remember you..." his voice trails off again to more of that eerie laughter.

"Y-Yeah, from Law and Order, right?"

"Wha-?" At first the Doctor stares, but quickly -too quickly- regains himself. "Patient Four, heheh, Tiedmann said...all the key subjects...need to be eliminated-"

"Hey whoa-!" Isaac yelps, but Foster overrides his protest.

"-terminated-"

"Listen to me, man," Isaac starts again, trying not to panic, but Foster's laughing gets louder and he cuts in again with, "What's one more?"

"What's one more!" he presses hotly, his face just inches from Isaac's.

"-The end of your acting career?" Isaac...just, throws out there. He doesn't know. This guys' nuts. Anything's worth a try at this point.

"Huh? Ugh, Lord, even after all those months in stasis..." Foster sighs irritably, hanging his head, before the chortle at the back of his throat rises up once more. "It's all right, hmhm, it doesn't matter, none of it actually matters..."

"Listen to me-" Isaac starts.

"-Will it matter?" Foster's focus suddenly snaps back, and the glass blade gets that much tighter against his throat.

"-Just listen-"

"-Will it matter?" Foster snarls.

"-Listen to me!" Isaac screams back, trying to get his assailant's attention.

Surprisingly, it works.

Isaac can't deny his fear now; try as he may to suppress it he can still hear the waver in his own voice. Still, he's got to try: it's currently his only option. "Listen, we can both get out of here, alright? Just, just cut me out of this straightjacket-"

"No one's getting out of here alive." Foster says firmly. "No one."

"Oh God, no-!" a voice cries out somewhere in the void of the engineer's brain, and under these circumstances he's not entirely sure if it was the sound of his thoughts or...hers. Then again, does it matter?

"Don't do this," reduced to pleading, Isaac shakes his head repeatedly and tries to brace himself as the deranged maniac lowers the blade toward his abdomen. "Please...?"

"'My acting career'," Foster scoffs under his breath, before thrusting the blade hard, straight...!

-Through the straps of the straightjacket.

"Jesus Christ man!" Isaac yelps shrilly upon being freed, retreating into the small recess where there is to be seen a lone yellow locker, standing out in stark contrast to the overall 'dark' of the room in general. "You...you..."

"I have waited, so long..." Foster sniggers grimly, eyes fixed on the fear still in Isaac's. "It felt, heheh, so good...the look on your face..."

"Wait...what?" Now Isaac's confused. The hell...?

"They won't let me kill you, but that...that'll do." Foster murmurs, before raising his voice and saying calmly, "There's no escaping what I've done."

"-The fuck-?

"Your rig is red."

"Wha-?"

"It's red."

"Yeah, I know, but what did you say-?"

"IT'S RED!" Foster barks randomly.

"SWEAR TO ME!" Isaac counters even louder and -more- randomly.

Foster looks a little taken aback by this. A moment's ever-more-awkward silence later...

"...It's red."

"Jeezes..."

"There's a health pack and a flashlight in that wall locker over there." Foster points out. "Take 'em. I'm not going to be needing them any more..."

The engineer sighs heavily and quickly loots the locker, treating his previous injuries and grabbing up the flashlight. Just as he turns to 'thank' his attacker-turned-assist, however, the man takes the glass shard to his own throat.

"Isaac." he states in a too-calm tone of finality. "We're all gonna burn for what we did to you."

Before Isaac can even think to react, the man drives the weapon in deep and slits his own throat. Blood sprays from the fresh incision, and as the man drops to the floor, coughing and choking up the last remains of his life...Isaac cocks an eyebrow nonchalantly.

...and before the doctor finally succumbs to his own demise, Patient Four drops down to one knee in front of him, and neatly boxes him, hard, in the eye. A strange expression, akin to deja vu, comes to the other's face as Isaac brandishes a finger and says flatly, "That. Was for Pi."

With that he simply takes his leave.

A little ways ahead and his RIG's comm flashes a screen to him. "Clarke?" the woman depicted asks in a rush. "Isaac Clarke? Is that you?"

"Ugh, YES Nic-ew God what did you do with your hair?" Isaac screws up his face as he takes in the new look.

"Wha-Who?"

"-Not now scary broad, I'm sure it's lovely on my Credits Card-" Isaac clicks off the screen, only for it to instantly re-appear, much to his dismay.

"-You're suffering from a unique form of dementia Isaac, something you contracted on Aegis 7! It's killing you!"

"Yes I know. And it will go away, as soon as you do. " he says sarcastically, dispelling the screen again.

It comes back just as fast. "Just who the living hell do you think I am?" the woman on-screen chastises hotly.

"Nicole-" Isaac grits his teeth, but-

"Try Daina, smart ass."

"-Wait, who?"

"Exactly."

"Wait, so you're...NOT...Nicole?" Now giving the woman on screen his full attention, he's surprised -and somewhat embarrassed- to see that no, that's not Nicole.

"No!"

He's still leery, though. Nicole can be a tricky one, after all. For all he knows she might have learned the art of 'possession' in Marker Hell. "Then how do you know all this about me?"

"It's obvious." Daina responds curtly, trying hard not to lose patience with her new 'friend'.

"Do tell."

"Look, Isaac, your dementia WILL kill you. But if you can reach me here, I can treat you and get you to safety."

"What color are my underwear?" Isaac suddenly blurts out accusingly.

"Wha-? How should I know? White?" Daina raises an eyebrow.

"Hmm...good answer, 'Daina'." Clarke's eyes narrow suspiciously. "Why should I trust you?"

"Because I'm not the one shooting at you!" She snaps, flaring up again. Idiocy can do that to a person.

"Neither was the LAST bitch that was supposedly 'helping' me! -Er, well, not 'till the end anyway...but still!"

"Ugh, just follow the route I'm sending you." With that the screen finally goes off, this time not because of Isaac.

"Fuck..." Isaac gripes upon entering the elevator as, sure enough, he's got a waypoint.

Meanwhile, called to arms and thus hot on their Master's tail...a small collective of necromorphs burst into the room the engineer just left, only to find the deceased Foster in their wake. One is just about to yowl out something when-

"-Oof!"

"Quiet!" the other slasher hisses mentally, turning it's twitching neck from side to side the way a dog would when listening intently for something. "The Master...is just beyond this door..."

"So why aren't we joining him?" the silenced slasher inquires of it's paranoid kin. "If he's literally right there?"

"You idiot! This sort of thing must be handled with great care! And sensitivity!"

"-That and look what he did to this poor slob." The infector tagging along points out, gesturing toward the dead guy. "Seriously, that wench underestimates our Master me thinks..."

"...'think I vaguely recall this one..." The first slasher peers intently at him. "Isn't this-?"

"-Ask him in a minute, hold on." The infector hastily bustles over, straddles the man, and sets to work before either of the other two can do/say anything further. Not long afterward...

"What the- oh motherFUCK me!" re-animated Foster-morph roars as the infector bounces back and skitters behind the original slasher pair.

"Whadda ya think?" it asks in passing. The other two stare, scrutinizing.

"Erm..."

"I dunno..."

"Ask him the Important Question!"

So the leader of this tiny unit does just that, by pointing one long blade in the newest necro's face and barking (mentally): "You of the newly bred! Do you accept the Master as the One Being to bring us to True and glorious Convergence?"

"What?" Our former doctor is still having a hard time coming to grips with being newly 'alive', albeit now a slasher, let alone joining a new 'religion'.

"Answer now, heathen! We don't much recognize 'patience' as a 'virtue'."

"S-Sure, sure fine! But...what the hell...I'm, I thought I was-?"

"'Dead'?" the other three chime in.

"Yes?"

"Join the crowd."

"So...this is my punishment. I guess this is one way...so, explain to me this 'Master' of yours?"

So they tell him. And as they do, memories from a life not-so-long passed come creeping back...

"You have to be kidding me." Foster-morph's jaw drops (more) in horror.

"No?"

"...Screw this."

The other three necromorphs watch as the fresh slasher neatly rips it's own head off. It takes all of a grueling thirty seconds but nonetheless the job is done.

"Er...never seen that before..." One slasher scratches a blade on it's head, making a vulgar 'metal on bone' scraping sound in the process.

"So...who was he again?" it's cohort remarks.

"Beats me. Let's go back and see how everyone else is coming along. Dave says he's got a new plan to get the Master to come around to accepting us!"

"Damn! Dave's on a roll here!" The trio eagerly troop back out the way they came, conveniently unaware that, from the floor (once again) a now-headless slasher waves an arm feebly in the air, in an attempt to flag them back.

~IT LIVES!

So very, VERY sorry I took so long to update! I kinda rushed this chapter a bit, hope you like it though!

-Also, thank you guys for reading, reviewing and the like. You guys are the best! ^^~