Elliot Graves

Day… two? Three?The water rose again in the western tunnel.
The ribbon’s still there.
The relay won’t turn on anymore.
Just a hard click—then nothing.I started building a splint.
I can’t stay here. But I’m running out of supplies.
There’s nothing else. Nothing but the hum.
That… damned hum.
Even when I’m still.
Especially when I’m not.I’m trying to conserve energy—mine, and what’s left in the equipment.
So I started scratching notes on the doors.
I… I know how that sounds.
But I can’t keep checking and re-checking everything.I only write what I know.
Stuff to remember. Stuff to check off without wasting the energy of looking.- Supply closet — locked
- Vent’s too narrow
- You’re aloneI check the last one whenever I wake up.
I’m not sure how true it is.
I read it again.---Later still.
I ran out of chalk.
But there’s still so much—so much—to remember.
And I’m so tired.I switched to using ash from the fires.
I’ve been burning the boxes to stay warm.
It’s cold.
God, it’s so cold.The writing helps.
It keeps me focused.
Keeps me awake.
Keeps me from listening to the hum outside the walls.---Morning, I think.
Someone knocked.It was slow. Kind of sloppy? But it was definitely a knock.
I tried to yell. Tried to tell them I was here.
Tell them I needed help.I could hear them.
Hear them just outside the door.
And then they just… left.Left me here with that god-awful humming.
Chattering as they walked away.I feel lost.
I read my notes.
My truths.
You’re alone.I read it again.---I think I screwed up.
Too many messages.
I don’t know which ones are mine anymore.There’s new ones.
New truths.
Not ones I wrote:- Don’t sleep
- They hear you
- Don’t lookThey’re red.
Rusted red.
Smeared on the walls.
They look like mine.
They’re not mine.I’m out of chalk.
Out of ash.---For whoever finds this…
Don’t read the walls.
The walls lie.
It’s all lies.You’re alone.
I read it again.
I know it’s a lie.
Because I can hear them outside.