I begin this record, still in the hope that the great work we have undertaken here might one day be of scientific value, despite the chaos which has ensued in the six hours previous. My aim is to remain secure, until what help there may be arrives, and to that end I have barricaded myself into a small workshop area in the abandoned part of the mine. I hope that the meagre food rations here will keep me alive, and that those I hide from will not jeopardise that. Perhaps this mine really is cursed: it's almost precisely thirty years since the incident that brought us here, and now, thirty years on, fate has struck again.
I forecasted that today the rescue crews would arrive, but I can only hypothesise that they would be unaware of my location, and hence busy themselves evacuating the other survivors. If they have not arrived by tomorrow, I will go out in search of them.
My first mistake was to make assumptions on the matter of rescue. My second mistake was to make assumptions on the safety of this mine. My third mistake was to act on both those assumptions in going outside of my safe haven.
My best estimate is that I left the workshop where I was secured about two days ago in search of aid, and I have found only danger. I approached the old living quarters, but curiously, could find no sign of life whatsoever. I returned in what I thought was the direction from which I had come, but soon found myself in an unfamiliar locale. Confused, but focused, I attempted to make my way home, but found myself threatened by some species of feral creature, which seems to have made this old mine its home.
Although the specimen bore significant interest to me, I chose to retreat, only to find myself outmanoeuvred and outnumbered by the beasts. I turned and ran, injuring my ankle in the process, which I believe now is most likely a sprain, rather than a fracture. For some time I cowered and fled into the dark, but a few hours ago I discovered a door leading to a smaller, disused part of the mine, the key for which I still have in my pocket. Within that area I discovered this store room, and I think it should keep me safe for some time. This place is a maze.
My lesson learnt: I will not venture out again until I am certain the area is safe.
Rescue seems increasingly unrealistic. Supplies diminishing. Lots of spiders in this place. I do not like spiders.
I caught one of the accursed, eight legged beasts nestling in my open mouth when I woke up this morning. In my surprise I swallowed it. It's not so much the act of swallowing which concerns me, but the genus of arachnid. It would be unlikely that a cave dwelling spider would be venomous to any significant degree, but the possibility troubles me all the same.
Any known venom would have affected me by now, and so today is the first minor cause for celebration I have had since the incident. By lucky coincidence, this revelation also means I have discovered a virtually inexhaustible supply of nutrition. I intend to venture into the basement beneath this storeroom, in the name of science, to discover more about these creature's natural habitat.
For four days now, I have been surviving solely off the quite considerable sustenance provided by the spiders. For some time I was struggling to gather enough of the crunchy little morsels, however, lady luck smiled on me once more when the batteries in my torch died and I made a second life saving finding: the creatures' natural habitat is the dark. With my light now diminished, I need only lie still for a few minutes, and I will have attracted enough of the beasts for a rather hearty meal.