Entry 6: Blood is Everywhere

I've managed to settle down in a small pit within the volcano's caves. It smells like shit, here, but that's hopefully enough to cover my scent.

It's even more cramped than my original little pit, and I can barely get out with my remaining strength. My blood is pooling up in the pit, too, making it look like a little purple puddle. This is torture, I'm sick.

I regret everything. All of it, everything. I regret being born, I regret continuing to live. It wasn't long, but it was pathetic. I can't do this.

I've not been able to think. Yesterday my thoughts were clouded with fear, but today I also had paranoia to keep me company. That beast could find me at any moment. I'm terrified.

It is a severe problem, but I haven't even been able to smell the blood yet- and I'm bathing in it. It smells like shit all the time. Am I bathing in a cesspit?

The beast scares me. Everything about it is built to kill, from its enormous size to its features. It's maw is wide and not that long, built like a triangle or semi circle. There are many eyes at the front, and two enormous horns at it's head. It's built like a tank and charges on all fours, ripping anything in its away apart.

It horrifying to think that that thing tracking my smell, and it's even scarier because I'm lying in a pool of my own blood.. but I can't run anymore. I'm too weak.

I'm considering the impossible. Would there be forgiveness even if I sought it?

Above all else, the diary's pages are getting wet with blood and tears. It's getting harder to write, and these pages are being written with my blood since I'm out of ink. I wouldn't be surprised if I lose this final comfort of mine.