ID: 5064 | |||
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An old journal recorded by a miner. | |||
Show/hide full text ...the food's getting worse. No matter how much spice I put in it, it still has no flavor. It's just bland. I don't care what the foreman says, this mine isn't somewhere we should be digging. ...told them the rest didn't just run away. Where would they go? Chebika? Like they'd never be caught there. Something's happening around here. Why won't anyone listen? ...I woke up alone. The mine's as silent as a tomb. I know something awful's happened. Wait a moment, I hear footsteps—or shuffling feet at any rate. Perhaps I'm not alon... (The journal ends abruptly. The last letter trails off.) |
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