Observations of Fival's Pets 001 (access previous Communications)
Date: Unknown (approx. time of Second Human Offense)
Location: Former Underground Human Settlement
They get worse and worse and worse. These creatures. They torture us. All of us who stayed behind. The council weren't any help. Sealing themselves up inside their storerooms until they met their own end. But some of us have managed to live. We breathe anyway. Living is something that I've quite forgotten to be honest. When we're not hiding in holes, we are being burned by these devils. Poking at us with hot flames and singeing our skin so that we are all scarred and infected.
If they happen to be sleeping or feeding, then we're choking on the gas clouds that have poisoned this hellish place. The gas seems to bother them less. Some of us theorize that the children mutated, making them able to breathe the methane levels. It would explain their violent behavior and failing language skills. Their brains have been fried. Inside and out. They call themselves Fival's Pets but I doubt even the rodents would accept these abominations.
There is no escape from here. This is our Hell. Those who have tried have been skinned. We are being kept as humans once kept our enemies. Many of us still hold out hope of a rescue. While I assume one might be attempted, I believe it has little chance of succeeding. They keep getting worse and worse.
(Tune in next Story Time Tuesday for the next installment)