Journal Entry #345
The harvest is meager, but it is to collect it before the chill of winter nibbles at my nose. Meager or no, winter is coming.
"Better late than never!" My father always said. Oh, Father. Why did you leave me here in the sewer? Have you forgotten me? The rats. They vex me so. And the oil you left behind to fuel my lamp is running low... The darkness invites the rats and other terrors. I am searching for higher ground. I am leaving the compost heap tonight and exploring the tunnels under the zoo.
Perhaps I will have more luck finding fuel for my lantern. I fear the darkness. I fear the terrors.
Journal Entry #401
I lost my boots today. My feet feel naked without the plastic foam between the cold wet damp and the several layers of stockings I found in a cellar. I don't think of it as stealing. It is either to sin or to lose my toes. The rats nibble incessantly and I had managed to catch a few to supplement my corn diet with their rankled flesh. But I had to burn them in a fire in the drained mote around the lion exhibit.
Their blood is black. I do not think the rats are well either. Darkness consumes all. I spend my days crawling between exhibits, searching for anything I can to fuel the lantern, and I have to use the radio I saved for emergencies to block out the voices. They come in the darkness. I must move again tonight.
Tonight the moon will be full enough.
Journal Entry #430
I found it. I found the Vault. But it is locked. I talked to the security robot through a small camera but it never replied. The glass eye of the lens stared right through me and the door won't budge. I wonder if Father is hiding in the Vault. I wonder if he thinks me dead. I don't want to go back to the zoo.
Father. I won't give up.