Four hundred and forty seven days we’ve been on this ship. Four hundred and forty seven days of staring out the bloody window and seeing nothing! Nothing but darkness that stretches on for all Eternity, pot marked by insignificant specs of light that serve only to mock me, to remind me of the light of the Sun I used to know and will never see again. I’m delusional. Footsteps. I hear footsteps. I hear them breathing. I hear their hearts beating. They’re coming, coming, coming to kill me. Blood. Blood shall be spilt. I smell it. I need to taste it. Blood. Blood. It’s time for Blood. - - - ---