The Trench - The First Found Page

"I've lost track of the days I've spent down here. I'm slowly starting to hear less and less noise from outside this room. It's been maybe two weeks since I was trapped in this room. I've managed to ration out my food and water for another week or two, but the water's becoming a problem. I have to conserve it, but I'm quickly getting dehydrated faster and faster every day.

The smell of iron filled the room as I scribbled in a leather-bound, precious journal. I tried to keep the smell out of my mind as I wrote, glancing up and squinting into the darkness from where the smell emanated. As I made out the shape of a crumpled mess of objects, I forced my sight back down to the journal and quickly began writing again, my handwriting short scratches on the page, the lines of my writing all over the place, no rhyme or reason to them.

I'm thinking I can hopefully starve that... thing... out there. I haven't heard it in two days, so I'm thinking it moved on. I have to move out soon...

Scratch that; I need to move out now.

I leaned my head back, visions dancing across the room, sparkling lights and faces manifesting themselves in the dark. A shiver shot up my spine as the sounds of metal craking filled the facility. I closed my eyes tight, hearing pipes move, bending and creaking rhythmically. Closing the journal, I tucked my legs tight to my chest, wrapping my arms around them, scooting myself quickly into a corner. The creaking grew louder and louder, unbearably loud. there were three steps, like someone crawling carefully, then dragging, almost sounds like the weight of a body. It continued for an unbearable amount of time, growing louder and louder, the dying off, only to return even louder. Every time the noise returned, I squeezed my eyelids tighter than before, my face growing sore as time passed.

I sat there, knuckles turning white against the journal, for what seemed like an eternity, my heart slamming against my chest as every second passed. When the noise finally decided to halt for a significant amount of time, I relaxed slightly, the beating of my heart slowing to a normal pace. It was a minute or two before I gained the courage to open my eyes. I glanced around the room, squinting into the darkness, making out the familiar storage cabinets, the short stove and icebox, and the mangled mess against a wall far from the barred door.

I sighed slightly, loosening my grip on my journal. I pushed myself up against the wall, shakily standing as I regained my composure. As I took a deep, shaky breath, there was one final creak. My heart sank as my vision quickly shot up to the ceiling. A vent sat above me, a soft airy moan seeped through the shattered grate.