Some days I wake up, and I think I’m drowning. And just before I wake up, looking up at the distant surface while there’s something (someone?) dragging me down I find myself thinking… it’s rather peaceful, down here.
Obviously, I know that drowning isn’t nearly as relaxing, but it’s not like I can help what I dream about. And I think I’d prefer that over the impersonal way [REDACTED] would handle… well, anyway.
It’s been a week without any sightings of the pod. A week since I destroyed most of the logs.… and shamefully hid the rest.
Sometimes I want to burn this whole facility to the ground. But then I remember— that I can’t.
[REDACTED] still hasn’t told [REDACTED] about what I’ve done. I wonder what he’s waiting for.
File Notes:
Personal file, recovered from the sunken remains of the [REDACTED] research facility. Researcher: [REDACTED], status: deceased












