The hardest part of dispatching the odious beast was our terrible awareness of a still-human face fighting desperately to emerge from the macabre parody it had become.

It seemed to weep inconsolably - remaining conscious all the while, as the grim reality of his transmutation took its toll. I think each of us questioned our very humanity then, as we rained down upon him that final flurry of sickening blows.

The infection blossomed even now as we struggled to wipe free the grisly strands that stained our apparel. Each of us was changing in our own appalling fashion, as muscles bulged wildly and skin flayed in ribbons - parting to accommodate the invasion of the living machine.

A mounting hysteria threatened to claim us, as the halls of this accursed place seemed to reverberate anew in exultation of our plight, discharging fresh hell as if to test our resolve, our innocence.