[ WP ] You 're an astronaut on the first mission to the moon since the 1970 's . You begin to dig for samples in the soft sentiment when your shovel hits something soft , yet tough . You brush the dirt away , revealing a dead man in a bloody spacesuit .

`` When the moon hits your eyes, like a big-a-pizza pie...'' I hummed as a few small pebbles bounced off my helmet while I dug for the requested samples. 
 The song in my head was cut short as my shovel suddenly hit something different. 
 
 `` There should n't be anything but regolith here,'' I mumbled and began digging in earnest. A moment later I'd finally uncovered enough to recognize the material. A spacesuit? 
 `` John, you'd better get over here quick,'' I announced on the radio. 
 
 I'm not sure how long it had taken but I finally was able to start pulling the spacesuit free. And judging by the weight it was n't empty. 
 `` John, there's a body in a spacesuit here!'' 
 Turning the suit around I noted that my internal jukebox had already switched to horror theme. And not without reason. 
 
 Half of the spacesuit helmet was gone. Inside the suit was clearly the remains of a man, albeit without most of his head. The insides of the suit were practically painted with blood. I dropped the suit from shock and as the suit slowly fell my eyes turned towards the front of the suit. The old NASA logo. And a name tag with the name: ARMSTRONG. 
 
 Neil Armstrong? How? 
 `` If Neil Armstrong died here, then who - or what - returned to Earth instead?'' 
 ``... usss....'' came a barely audible hiss over the radio. 
 `` John?'' 
 A chill went down my spine as I bounced towards my rover with maximum speed. After reaching it I hopped on and revved the engines, desperate to reach our landing craft as fast as possible. 
 
 As I crested another hill my eyes fell on another white figure, laying on the ground. 
 `` John!'' 
 The rover slid to a halt right beside the familiar spacesuit and my heart fell as I noted the gaping hole where the helmet's face plate had been. 
 
 I fell to my knees, and only then noticed another familiar sight. Our landing craft, a lone white blob climbing rapidly away from the Moon's surface. 
 A moment later it was no longer alone. Behind it there were hundreds of others, eerily similar in form, racing along the original's path. 
 `` We should have never come here,'' I whispered but nothing but the silence of the moon replied.
