Goonstation Spooktober Mini-Contest 1: May these scant few words written here

[TheGreatPotoo]

Exiting cryo, he looked around puzzled, welcoming him was not the buzzing of comms, or the squeakiness of clown shoes sprinting down the hall, nor the detective unloading lethals into a crewman. It was distant mechanical whirling which met him; it was sounds of harsh beeps and scratches... it was inhuman scuffling along the tight corridors of maintenance. The eyes of the dead watched carefully, if only they were the only ones.