> Days since last synchronization: 405,655

> Managed to get back to sleep at some point, fairly sure it is way past daybreak. I'm not 100% sure how long I stayed awake or slept. I can confidently say, however, the pain in my leg comes from my knee.

> I saw some marks on the floor, and the spot I fell from has widened quite a bit. Something probably fell in during the night, landed in a far more unlucky position than me, and limped away bleeding down the eastern corridor.

> Which means there's a wild animal loose in here with me. That would actually be quite welcome; extra food never hurts.

> I didn't have going into another corridor planned until I finished with the northern corridor, but whatever creature fell in here, I can't just ignore it.

> If it is dangerous, I must deal with it before it catches me unawares. If it isn't, it will make good food.

> I'm taking my axe, the fireless torch, and a rope. After it's done, I'll take a break.

> I've mapped the first floor and part of the second floor. Yes, second, not bottom—there is at least one more floor. I followed the blood trail for the better part of an hour, then... well, things went a bit sideways.

> It was a deer. That's not the issue.

> The thing is, every time it looked like it was trying to find a spot to lie down—like the corner of a gym, a locker room, showers, a storage room—it stayed there for a while, then got up and kept moving.

> Which is weird, because you'd think it would lie down somewhere and try to sleep it off.

> But it didn't. It kept getting up, moving away, clearly bleeding, brushing against the entryways and exits, where I'd find scraps of greasy hair and dirt.

> It kept going from the first level down the stairs into the second floor. And in the meantime I just kept thinking—why? Why keep moving? I was afraid it might be a predator looking for a quick bite of anything to snack on.

> Something killed it on the second floor.

> I was about an hour and a half into tracking it, also wondering just how gods-damned deep this place goes, when I smelled... carnage, for lack of a better word: the smell of an opened-up body, the sting of guts. I found the poor thing when I turned the corner.

> It was absolutely mangled against a wall in the middle of a hallway section, a few meters away—seemingly thrown around like a ragdoll and sliced open in so many places you could've told me it's made out of ribbons instead of flesh and I'd believe you.

> The otherwise grey walls and floor of the corridor were painted with a mixture of... well, everything the deer could've had inside it.

> I froze where I stood, and I'm not afraid to admit I was terrified. I think every single hair on my body stood up; I tensed so much it was hard to breathe.

> The first thought that passed through my mind was: what did this? I was certain I'd been trailing the deer; the scraps of hair I found matched what bits of its hide weren't covered in gore.

> Then I heard it. Something moved behind me. These places where darkness is absolute and the sun has never shone mess with your senses; what I heard, I think, was a single step.

> I'm not sure where it came from, but in the moment my gut told me: turn off the light.

> So I did.

> Then darkness fell as quickly as light comes—the absolute darkness of a cave. I was suddenly floating in the middle of nowhere, an abyss of sensations.

> But it wasn't an empty abyss; it wasn't silent. I heard it move.

> They weren't steps, I was able to figure out after a few more seconds—or minutes? I'm not sure. When the beating of my heart got quiet enough to allow outside noise, I began to identify what I could.

> It was something falling—a wet, disgusting sound. It didn't so much step; it was more like fleshy things fell out of it while it moved. Once it got close enough I could distinguish the scraping of both flesh against flesh and against metal.

> It was dragging itself; that's the only thing that made sense, but it honestly only makes me more uneasy to try and picture it.

> What I couldn't decide was what to do. It was moving towards me—or at least growing louder—but what could I do?

> If it could catch up to the deer, it could catch up to me, I'm sure. I couldn't think about running with my leg like that; if it gave chase and my knee gave up on me, I was dead.

> And picturing myself in the deer's place only made me sick to my stomach.

> Whatever I could rationally think of, my body was nailed to the floor as if the gods themselves had fixed me there, like the stars in the firmament.

> Had it seen the light? Was it coming for me? Was it simply coming back for the deer?

> My only option was to stay as still as possible and pray.

> I've never been a religious man, but back then I was mentally putting in a word, offering my apologies, and begging to every god and devil I could think of as time passed by.

> I could feel the warmth drain from my fingers and my chest heat up. In a fight or flight, my body had chosen flight. Still I waited, against the shouting in my head as every bit of me told me to RUN, thinking that my time to make a dash and hope the head start was enough had passed.

> At some point, it drew close enough that I could finally tell where it was coming from, and I held my breath.

> It had come from behind me. Then, as it dragged itself, I tried to get its measure, doing my best to concentrate and shut down the urge to bolt out of there as fast as I could.

> I couldn't tell how big it was, as much as I tried. I only know at some point it was ahead of me.

> I almost jumped out of my skin when it grabbed the corpse—or I think that's what happened.

> I heard a heavy crunch, then the more familiar sounds of fur against metal.

> If it was dragging the corpse, it had more than one way to do so; the sound of its movement didn't change as it started to move away.

> I didn't breathe again until my lungs burned and I started feeling dizzy—long after whatever that was was gone.

> Even after I stopped hearing it, I didn't move for... an hour? Half? I'm not sure. For as long as it took my body to settle down, that thing didn't come back.

> I didn't turn on the torch. I went to the nearest wall and retraced my way back in the dark, pausing between every step, on guard for the sound.

> Now that I'm out, I should've checked if the body was really gone, if the creature had left a trail. But what if it was there, waiting in the dark for me, daring me to turn on the light? For some reason it felt like it was.

> Being under the moonlight of the hole I fell from felt like a blessing, and in the room, having the terminal's glow is really something.

> I was planning on warming something up this morning, but I don't want to make a fire.

> I've locked the room. On one hand, I wanted to keep it open so light could come in; on the other hand, I don't think I can sleep with the door open. The room is pitch black save for the light from the terminal, which is a soft glow over most of the room.

> I'll leave the terminal open, eat some more of the bread before it goes bad, and try to sleep. I don't feel very hungry; maybe I'll wash it down with some wine. I know I had a waterskin full of it—I feel like it's needed.

> I think I'll spend a few days in here, away from the halls, to let my knee heal. That might be best.