Alex Inoue

Dead End, Zo's Journey, and more stories


Posted by on May 18, 2018

Time Logs (24 hour):

(Copied from source)


My bathroom time is currently sealed in its own trash bag. I’m not terrible happy about it. I’ll get another 23 bathroom breaks unless I find another box of bags.

The worst part about it might be that the bags are thin and translucent. Who knows how long it will be before I can smell them. I don’t even want to know what it will look like by then.


I’m hungry.


These “rations” I have taste like my recycling box.

My recycling box is what I use to take my waste to be recycled. It was from a Chinese delivery service. It’s also about six months old. I’ve never tried to eat it before, but I can’t think of anything else that the “flavor” filling my mouth reminds me more of. It tastes like that one time I sniffed my box. And it tastes sort of like how I remember cardboard tasted when I tried to chew on some as a teenager.

Teenagers are freaking stupid.

Maybe I’m exceptionally stupid. I’m not sure I saw anyone else munching on cardboard back then…


The backup generator should last far longer than my food supplies. And considering I only see two boxes of bottles full of water, I think my water will run out, first.

I’m just going to fill my time with these logs and messing around with the random boxes of supplies down here.

I’m still hungry, by the way. The food might last longer than my ability to stomach them if I had infinite water. Which I don’t.


Right. Then. Right, then.

I said I’d write to keep myself sane.

What am I supposed to put in. This is worse than small-talk with my office-mates. Or, worse, random people on the street.

I’m going to sort everything down here to burn time. It’ll be far more interesting than talking to myself.


Just saying hi. Hi!


Ok, break over.


Breakfast time! Yummy! It’s my favorite! Brown sludge! Time to wash it down with delicious water!

I hate water.

Water tastes like fucking champagne when trying to down this muck. It’s like eating mud. Dry, grainy mud. Not that I know what mud actually tastes like. Cardboard: Yes, sadly. Mud: Thankfully not. Until now, I guess.

These food rations are terrible. Who was supposed to eat these things? Earthworms?


Another bathroom break.

I’m going to have to reuse some of my empty ration bags at some point…I’m not looking forward to it at all.

Thank the gods there’s some form of air conditioning. But if it’s not connected to the poison outside, what is it connected to? Do I have a limit to my air supply? Did they plan on people staying in the storage vault when they made this place?

If I start getting dizzy, I’m pushing the emergency lever.

Maybe I should make a bed area right under it…


I’ve finished sorting the parts associated with our current project. It was a lot, but not even a quarter of what’s stored down here.

I enjoyed folding the cables up neatly and wrapping the cords into nice circles.

Since I’m usually stuck at my desk, it was nice getting to see the parts and and


It looks like I fell asleep earlier. I must have submitted the last entry right before I passed out.

I was going to say “…it was nice getting to see the parts up close. That’s typically what Alice works on. And the others with electrical and material engineering degrees.”

Or something like that.

Ok, sleep time again.


My head…I need to sleep but my head is killing me.


Finally got some sleep.

I had a lot of dreams toward the end. And I kept waking up. I think I woke up three or four times. I’m not sure.

But my dreams were mostly pleasant. I had a normal day with Alice. We were just eating lunch somewhere. Then my parents came by for some reason. And then there was a cat? Or was it a dog? I can’t remember that dream so well.

After I woke up for a moment, I went back to New Seattle. But instead of eating lunch in a fuzzy restaurant, Alice and I were walking outside. It was probably hot, but it didn’t feel hot. It was pretty bright, though. I know I had to feel hot. Alice exercises all the time. I’m not a big fan of it, especially when outdoors and in the summer.

The last dream I just woke up from was odd. I was on a base on the moon or something. I know there’s a few of them, though I’ve never seen them before. But I was on a base and there was no one there. I had to run for some reason, though. I don’t know why I was running. It was cold. I heard something following me. It was dark. I woke up before it got worse.

My body probably needed me to wake up. I don’t blame its reasoning.


More mud. Water plus grit equals a nutritious diet.

I’m going to have nightmares of this “food,” aren’t I?


I’m not a fan of the bathroom situation. I’m going to hold it in until I can make some sort of toilet out of the things down here.


Nevermind, it was urgent.


I’m going to make a bathroom. Just had to go, first. I still need some cleanliness and organization.

I also don’t feel like throwing up from the stench.


Well, it’s a start.

If they come in and find me here, I’m going to torch this room. I could care less about them finding our fun robotics research. I just don’t want someone else to know what I had to do down here.

I think I’ll spend some more time organizing the rest of the junk in here.

Future Notes:

Attackers likely withdrew to a central location; gas was likely at non-lethal levels by this time

The food supply, or “rations,” were sealed components for the food printer; I did not realize this until several days later. The label was not terribly helpful

Food printers used recycled waste products broken down into base compounds

The supply packs that fueled food printers aren’t good for food ; though technically edible, they often cannot be digested well by the human body, leaving a lot of unusable waste if eaten directly without processing via a printer


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