Saturate✔️

CHAPTER 02: Damage

The shower just felt so fucking good.

In the end, he managed to cut the water off after about five minutes. He got out, dried off and dressed in the new black jumpsuit. This one fit him better and just generally made him feel more put-together, more able to face what lay ahead. It was interesting the effect something as simple as the clothes you wore could have on your psychology. Freshly washed and dressed, Greg clipped the knife and the medical kit to his belt, then stepped back out into the main infirmary. His gaze zeroed in on something he'd seen before but hadn't fully registered: a mini-fridge. Maybe this one would actually have stuff in it.

Crossing the room, he opened it up and peered inside. He immediately grabbed the PB&J that was wrapped up in plastic, tore it open and ate it after making sure it wasn't old. When that was done, he tossed aside the plastic, grabbed a can of Vex and drained it all in one go. All that was left after that was an apple, which he ate down the core and tossed aside as well. There was nothing else. Sighing, he stood back up and took a moment to stretch out. It hurt, though not as much as it had before. He popped several of his joints, trying to prepare himself for whatever was ahead, then he dry-swallowed a trio of painkillers.

"Okay," he muttered, pulling his knife out. "Enough's enough."

It was time to get back to work.

Feeling more focused and alert than he had since he'd first awoken aboard this miserable place, he promptly noticed something he'd missed coming into the infirmary. Something that was actually pretty crucial. A map. He stepped up to it and looked the map over. It was a simple paper map, laminated and framed and attached to the wall. Pretty convenient if the power failed. Or if you didn't have access to a digital copy.

It just seemed to show the local area, which was fine for now. He saw the area he'd been in, confirming he'd seen all it had to offer, and found himself on the map. Okay, the door directly ahead of the one he'd originally come through after getting through the wretched, atmosphere-compromised area led to a control room. Oh, thank God. The next door led to a larger area that held more cells, an office section, and another break room. There was also an exit that led to, presumably, the rest of the...ship? Space station?

Where was he?

Unfortunately, that information wasn't available. Greg left the infirmary and marched quickly to the control room door, still wondering in the back of his head what in the hell that groaning had been. He hit the access button...and promptly received a sharp, angry buzz. Studying the control pad, he saw that it was locked down, and it apparently wasn't going to open without 'proper authorization'. Given the fact that there was a magnetic card reader beside it, it must mean a keycard. Of fucking course, because why not!?

Grumbling, clenching the knife tightly in hand, Greg turned and marched back down the hallway, took a right and stalked to the end of the second hall. He hit the open button for the door there and hesitated as the door slid into its niche. For the first time, he saw some kind of obvious, overt sign that something had gone very wrong in the area. (Besides the atmosphere-free room.) The clues had all been there before, but now it was right there, in his face.

He was granted access to a larger lobby area.

A pair of corpses were strewn out haphazardly across the main floor, each in their own pools of blood that had dried up. A large, ugly smear of blood led off to the left, through one of the three doors in the room. There was a door to either side of him and another dead ahead, at the top of a stairwell. Greg moved slowly closer to the bodies. He peered in through the one open door to the left and could see another hallway where the smear continued, but nobody and nothing actually in the hallway. He took a moment to search and study the bodies.