Adventures of Moon River: Day 038: mr. Jordan
Collaborative journal entry for mr. Jordan
I can barely bring myself to write this entry, for the circumstances I now find myself in are dire to say the least. There is a good chance that I am in shock, that my eyes play tricks on me, and that tomorrow none if this has really happened. Yet I must continue.
We've landed at Jaques Station around 18:00. I remember doing a long string of consecutive jumps for what seemed to be an eternity. After our landing it dawned on me that I was on my own, yet I've never felt I truly was. The commander had been absent from the bridge for quite some time and the door was locked from the inside. I can't remember to have locked that door. It may be entirely due to my current state of anxiety, but I find great difficulty recalling the last few days.
All six of us, except for mr. Price, disembarked shortly after landing and headed straight to the pub. It felt like mr. and mrs Bisset, ms. O'Connor and myself were in a hurry, chased by an urge to get as far away from that ship as possible. The commander was the only one who seemed to be in a good mood. At the pub, we contemplated staying in Colonia for good, not eager to return to Cubeo. Again, only ms. Pallox seemed to be interested to get back on her journey.
A little after midnight I had taken enough liquid courage to go back to the ship in order to fetch my belongings, determined never to return to Moon River again. As I entered the ship and walked over to my cabin, I came across mr. Price's quarters. He had not joined us for drinks so I decided to check up on him. To my amazement, his door was slightly left ajar, its edges showing clear signs of broken welds. This door had been welded shut. But why? Was mr. Price locked in his own room? Does anybody know about this?
Then I made the greatest of mistakes I have ever made in my entire life. One that will surely haunt me till my death, and possibly beyond. I opened the door and stepped inside. The image of mr. Price, though etched in my memory for good, does not allow for recollection without a sudden outburst of nausea.
In the middle of the room, lay the mutilated corpse of mr. Price. My gaze was locked on to the horrific spectacle as I stood there, frozen, utterly incapable of moving a single muscle. I could not help but take in the entire image, like some horrifying cosmic joke where something evil was forcefully feeding me images of gore and violence. mr. Price was on his back, his legs contorted as if frozen in some sort of kicking motion, his arms stretched out on the floor and his fingernails torn and split. But most disturbing of all, was his head that had been severed, leaving the jaw and upper spine connected to the body. Something blunt and heavy must have struck him repeatedly with great force between the jaws. My imagination is running wild, recreating the moments of his death in my mind.
As soon as I unfroze from my near hypnotic state of terror, I managed to avert my gaze in an attempt to regain only a single moment of sanity. Somehow that only made things worse. The walls of the entire room were covered in smears of blood that almost seemed to resemble writing. I turned around to face the door and found this datapad right next to it. I picked it up and ran to my cabin. There I quickly grabbed the photograph of my beloved and packed my belongings whilst telling myself that none of it was real.
I left Moon River and did not return to the pub where the others were staying. I will hand over this logbook to the port authorities, which is where I am now. One of the clerks has allowed me to take his office for the night so I can recover a bit and write this final entry. He was very friendly and reassuring, advising me to stay here for a while. He told me he would be in contact with the police soon.
I don't know the man, but he does look familiar... but I don't mind. I'd rather be distracted by a somehow recognisable face than to be thinking of what I have seen tonight..