u/KRAM3S

Part I
Part II
Part III

Author note: By this point I am calling those posts a first draft. I love working on this story, and I decided to rewrite it from the top once I finish my idea over in this sub.

I've also had a 2 week vacation which made me realize that some things are working against me, such as the intermissions. I will keep doing them for now until I find a way to integrate the rest of the world into the story organically.

Enjoy!

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 71st day:

I took a step inside, and listened closely for Pama. Then I stepped further in. It felt a lot like the times when I didn’t have my other eye. Made my back feel tingly.

Later that evening I finally ate one of the books. I closed my eyes as I ripped the leather cover. I boiled it down for a long while before biting into it. I can confidently say that I prefer the floor porridge.

It feels like the house is getting bigger by the day. But it’s actually just emptier.

72nd day:

I pack my blanket, a tinderbox, one of my spoons, some tears, and the knife in my basket. In case I find Pama. Today I am taking more steps inside the hole and I am determined to do so until I find something. 

It’s a very long and windy hole, and I keep guessing how much of it was occupied by Pama. After hours of walking, I heard something up ahead.

It was water. Genuine water!

I don’t think I ever had water so I had to try it. It was nice and cool, much better than tears, and a lot less salty. It got me a bit excited. I knew Pama was getting it from somewhere.

The cave where the water is connected to the hole, but it looks carved instead of grown. It’s perfectly round, and the walls are made of square rocks lined with metal.

From this point, the cave was winding in two directions, so I chose to go upstream. I walked a lot and there’s more crossroads in this cave. I spent the rest of my day exploring this place, and I have drawn a map in my journal.

I put down my blanket and went to sleep.
73rd day:

Or at least I think it is the 73rd day. Hard to tell without going back to the surface.

Something woke me up by nibbling on my finger. I let it get confident before snatching it. It was a tiny creature, and its squeals were high pitched. It tried to bite me but I didn’t let go. My mouth wouldn’t stop watering. 

Feeling better now, I decided to continue exploring the place rather than returning home. It felt very odd to me, but there wasn’t much to do anyway. I wonder what Mewell is doing while I’m away. 

I felt a draft of wind, so I followed it for a while. I believed that I was closing in on it, but then it suddenly stopped as I turned the corner. I marked it down and carried on.

But something was still off. When I checked my map, it stopped making sense. There were paths that I somehow missed. And there were others that I marked and weren’t there. I turned my journal around a few times in confusion. 

It must have been hunger messing with my head.

 74th day:

I have checked three times before drawing the map. That was a waste of time. It’s still wrong. And my sense of direction is wrong too. I feel like I am coming from one way, and whenever I turn back the path is just gone. 

I still feel the draft of air every now and then, so at this point I can’t do much but follow it.

It smells like ichor.

 75th day:

I gave up mapping the place. I even gave up looking ahead. Instead I closed all of my eyes and just felt around the wall with my hand following the scent. This has proven to be a lot more practical since the draft was slowly turning into breeze.

I could see light through my eyelids, and heard a lot of voices. Not like mine or Pama’s though. More like the well’s voice.

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“That would be it for the class today, kids. Any questions?”

One of the children raised a hand cautiously.

“Yes?” the teacher pointed.

“Why is the sky below? Mommy said it used to be above, where the ground is.

The teacher raised his eyebrows in a quick motion, then looked away. He knew he couldn’t talk about it. “That’s true.” He replied, trying to avoid answering.

“But why?”

The teacher’s smile stiffened. “Scientists are still researching it, so this question will make it into the curriculum in no time, no doubt. I am eager to find out as well.”

The kid looked disappointed. 

Another kid spoke without raising a hand. “Dad says it’s because we made God angry.”

“That’s enough. Dismissed.”

“Did the big people do it?”

The teacher shot up. “Enough!”

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When I opened my eyes, the cave was ending abruptly, and I could see the sky below. Above me there was a big crater, and far away across it I could see where it used to connect. There are houses hanging around the crater, and when I looked up into it I saw them. 

Much like me, but I can’t describe it. It was shapeless, enormous, yet oddly human.

Part I
Part II

60th day:

I brought back the ichor bucket and placed it in front of the big hole that Pama left. I can’t see the end of it. I grabbed my knife, but there was nothing to carve.

I called for Pama and my voice just echoed in the empty space.

Never realized that the wind makes noise. It’s so quiet now.

61st day:

I brought a fresh bucket of Ichor and placed it where Pama was. 

I still have tears to keep me full.

62nd day:

I gnawed some bones that I had left from Pama.

I am so hungry.

63rd day:

I used my measure tape to draw more lines on the wall, above the ones that were already there. I marked down the height from the floor, and now I know my height.

Pama likes those lines. I yell loudly into the hole that there are new lines and numbers on the wall.

I can’t hear Pama crying.

Maybe I got the other numbers wrong.

64th day:

I read a story very loud to the hole.

65th day:

The well is making fun of me. 

I talked to Mewell and told it I was hungry among other things. 

“Did the well put you up to this?” Mewell asked, mocking me. I guess that was called for. “There’s plenty at the bottom of the well,” it said. “Come see! Just another step.”

Not today, well. Not today.

66th day:

I took one step into the hole today and it made my back feel tingly. It almost felt like going into the ground before I got my other eye. I tried calling Pama from here, but I can’t make it very loud anymore. There are less echos every time I try.

68th day:

I scratched the floor that was soaked with Pama’s grime to make a sort of porridge using the sawdust. It was really bad.

I also ate some of the candles that I made with Pama’s fat, so I had my belly full for now. But I didn’t like it.

70th day:

Since I’m waiting for Pama to return, there’s not much to do. I spend the day sitting by the well, despite them being mean to me. The white eyes that remained are wise to my tricks now, so that fun is over too.

“What do you think the white eyes taste like, Mewell?” I ask. It didn’t answer.

I know they both want me to step closer, they keep repeating that. I know how they must feel, though. They are probably just as hungry.

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How did it go?

I don’t really know. Father has been strange lately. Stranger than usual, which is saying something.

We don’t talk as often. Me being busy at work, and him well… you know what happened to mom.

I hesitated a bit by the door of his apartment. I could feel the smell of smoke and cheap alcohol from there. I’m surprised they keep him in the scouting parties. He’s an ace at work somehow.

What’s gotten into him this time?

That’s what I was about to find out. They recovered some… I don’t know if I should be saying this over the phone, actually. The point is, there are some documents he made copies of, and he’s been reading them over and over for days.

He was sitting on the balcony, drinking as usual and taking in the scenery of the Citadel. The papers were scattered on the coffee table, and the apartment was a mess.

We chatted for a bit, then we had an argument about his life, then we shouted. Then we were calm again. Like always.

“You know,” he said, “I’m glad you were born after the world went to shit.”

I asked him what that was supposed to mean.

He laughed into his drink. 

“Not because I wouldn’t want you to see how it was. It was beautiful, yes. But beauty leaves a mark. Once you’ve seen it, everything after feels like mourning.”

He took another drink despite my protests. “What a horrible day that was,” he muttered.“The day we pissed off Atlas.”

I didn’t ask what he meant. Wanting to change the subject I asked about the documents that he was reading so obsessively.

He looked over the Citadel again, and asked. “You know what gives me hope?”

“No?” I replied curiously.

He looked back at the documents. “No matter how badly the world flips, breaks, rots, starves, floods, burns, or dies…”

He pressed his lips into an almost-smile.

“Humans will always find a way to survive.”

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 71st day:

Today I went into the hole.