Dear Urist McInfectee,
First of all, good job on survivin' that werelizard attack. Not much of a feat, considering most of what he did was bite you once (in the head), smash your hand (bringing you dangerously close to bleedin' out, but good job not doing that), and then spent about... I don't know, could'a been a whole day, maybe longer, whalin' on your head with a sock he'd taken from his only other victim.
Second of all, I would have appreciated it if you'd told me you had the apparent ability to completely disintegrate a zinc door to make your escape from quarantine. I'm both impressed and annoyed, especially since this means I'll have to actually wall you in while I try and decide whether I should have the military butcher you in cold blood or just keep you walled in, forever, perhaps making bone crafts or something? Maybe I'll give you your own forge and put you to work getting rid of all this useless lead we have kicking around. How's that sound? Metalcrafting forever in solitude? I'm just not sure if having you killed (while transformed, naturally) will cause problems or not. Probably not, but y'know what?
I'd feel kinda bad about it.
You heard me. I would feel remorse. For killing you. On account of this not really being your fault. So, here's the deal. For however long it takes for us to get you sealed up proper - if you can keep yourself from infecting anyone else during that time (especially anyone important), you can be our recluse craftsmaker. We'll drop in food and stuff... when we remember to. Sure, your family will miss you. But I'm fairly sure you probably aren't pregnant, considering our pop cap's been reached, so on the bright side, if you do have a baby you probably won't give in to bloodlust and tear it limb from limb.
...GET BACK IN THE FUCKING SPIDER SILK DROP ZONE LIKE I TOLD YOU TO, YOU ABOMINATION! BEFORE THE BAD MOON RISES AGAIN!
With love,
your overseer.