Monday, 2 December 2013


There are things down here. I can hear them walking, their feet skittering over the rocky floor. I can't tell how many there are, or what they look like; it's too dark, and I can't let them see my torch. It sounds like there are only a few of them, or maybe the cave is just so big that they're spread out. I don't know. They seem to be somewhere else during the day - though that term means nothing down here, except to my watch - and they move around the tunnels at night.

There are lots of small spaces for me to hide while those things are out there. That's not a problem. The problem is that I have no idea where I'm going, or where those things go during the day. I walk through the tunnel in constant fear that my weak beam of light will shine onto something horrible and wake it.

I don't know how long I'll be able to last down here. I feel like the tunnel is pressing down on me, and the terrible sounds of things moving around me as I hide at night are destroying my nerves. I'd go back, but there's nowhere for me to go back to; I don't want to think about what must have happened to those guards outside the lift. I'll keep going.

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