They came last night and would not leave. It was early in the evening, if the crowd had not been so sullen and quiet I might not have heard them. I asked Momoe to watch the bar and said I had to go open a crate of stock for the bar, and went down to them.
There were more than I have ever seen together. I told Thomas I was angry that they had come while there were still people in the building, but they didn’t care. They are more afraid of something else. They say something is awake in the lower chambers of the caverns below the city, and they won’t go back down.
I’ll have to find blankets for them if they stay in the upper levels. It’s not as warm and they are nearly naked.
Is it superstition, or is something really down there? Dr. Foehammer? Is he still alive? What has them spooked?
You want my antique hierloom quilt for what now?
The Unthinkable has demanded notice. All that we have known and all that we have cherished is lost. A great despair grips my soul. The young ones are scared and that fear can only manifest in a brutal aggression against those above. I will not be able to maintain control for long.
The boy knows not the danger. He thinks blankets can bandage this wound. He thinks the occassional befouled corpse he offers can appease. We are not scavengers and above all we are not beggars! Yet here we scavenge and beg like the sewer rats next to whom we sleep! Oh what a vile turn of events.
Where is Father? Was it his wrath that has awakened this sleeping darkness? Has he unleashed this nightmare upon us?
For now we wait, hiding among the cellars of this city hoping for a turn in fortune. But patience is not our strength and hope is a fool’s wish.