This is a sad, lonely, morbid tale -
One, perhaps, of lips so pale.
I trod down the hallway, my gun held high -
I can hear the moaning, am I going to die?
My footpaws tred upon metallic ground -
I follow the station's walkways around.
The klaxon sounds, I run to heed its call -
I don't stop to see what's on the wall.
A scientist there, hanging by his head -
A grisly warning, it had filled me with dread.
Creeping down the dark corridor, gun in paw -
I train my sights upon that of a bloody saw.
I head a hideous howling coming from ahead -
I shake, I shudder, I wish I was in bed.
I proceed onwards, into the dimly lit room -
I hear a ripping, perhaps a signal of my doom.
I let out a small squeak as I spot it there -
A malformed hideous demon, the size of a bear.
It turned its head, it heard my pitiful call -
I turn, I run, I'm almost out, but I fall.
The gun slides across the floor from my paw -
Tears form in my eyes, I hear the raven's caw.
My legs curl up, as I whimper in dread -
Will it eat me, will I perhaps be dead?
I hear it walk closer, my fears confirmed -
I cry out loud, I see my mate - she's burned.
I grit my teeth, and let out a scream of rage -
I grab the gun, three rounds at the necrophage.
Shots land in its head, what luck, I think.
It dropped to the ground, without another blink.
I drop the gun, I pad over to my mate -
I drop to her side, the feelings.. I can't take.
She's dead, I thought, and it's on their time -
I pick up the gun, load a bullet, no, this was mine.
I point it to my head, tears streaming down -
I let loose into my head, that last brass round.
As it enters my brain, I have a last thought -
I do wonder how valiantly she had fought.
Refrences to my past mate, the one who died -
While writing this, I swear to god, I cried.