According to Dead Space 2’s in-game calculator, I’ve wasted spent 30 hours of my life, since late January, dismembering necromorphs (see: wetting myself out of fear) and galavanting across The Sprawl, looking like a bad ass space cowboy with my arsenal of limb-slicing weapons. I simply cannot get enough Dead Space. I loved the first game and I’m humping the leg of the second installment (on my fourth play-through). It’s a shooter, it’s a haunted house, it’s a space adventure and …