Tuesday, 10 December 2013


The noise died down last night. The tunnels were silent by morning, so I crept out of my hiding place. I'd spent days wandering through this maze before, but getting out was easier than getting in; I just followed the stench of decay. I walked for hours. I found bloodstains and gore, but no bodies or equipment.

I got to the lift in the end. I must have been going in circles before. The area surrounding the lift stank of smoke. The lift doors were on the ground in front of the lift, mangled and blackened. The lift itself had buckled. I leaned in and looked up; the ceiling panels had been ripped out, and the shaft was visible above me. I couldn't see how high it went.

I got into the lift, my heart racing when the floor shifted under my weight. I pulled myself up into the shaft. The cables that moved the lift were severed; I could see the ends dangling limply above me. I shone the light of my spare torch around. A recessed ladder was built into one wall. I shone the light up the ladder. The first bloodstain was only ten feet above me. It looked almost like a hand print.

I lowered myself back down and went to find a hiding place. I'll climb the ladder tomorrow, when there's less risk of one of those things appearing above me or below me. I'm not going to speculate about what I might find up there.

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