Whatever it was, it was coming and it wasn’t stopping. He had seen the results of its murderous rampage, the blood soaked ground, pieces of flesh scattered about, creating a smell one might find in a slaughter house. The cold air was only interrupted by two things – his breath as he dialed in to the emergency channel and the blood dripping from the ceiling grates, the result if a recent slaughter.

With a few swift clicks he shortly held a grin as the channel opened, but, as the noise of bone scraping on metal grew louder it quickly fled from his face. The computer terminal played a short tone, and he pounded away at the keyboard his last message as something now bashed at the metal airlock door.

"THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! PLEASE, SOMEONE RESPOND! THIS IS UNSC RESEARCH OUTPOST IO-237! PLEASE RESPOND"

He quickly typed the last few letters and hit the send button, airing the message for the nearby bases to read. It was the last thing he ever did.