An inescapable prison

Of course, I didn't understand two thirds of what was written there. Science stuff, this is what the books were full of. But I got a gist of it, at least. These were research journals, with the last, sixth, one being filled to about a half. From what I could say, the writer of them spend his time in this place adding parts of animals to other animals.

I immediately recalled the doe with wings.

The intervals between the dates in the journal entries varied. Sometimes, there would be an entry every day, or even several. Sometimes, there would be no entries for a couple of months. The earliest entry dated four years ago, and the latest—a week before I got here.

That meant that I had approximately two months tops until the arrival of the person who created this place. I didn't wish to meet them, but for now, I didn't see how I could escape them.