Here ye go.

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Lucy's journal, 13th day of Storing:

Disaster has struck. I write this from within one of our very own cells, having been locked here by the inmates. I only pray that someone will release me before it is too late.

On the afternoon of the eleventh, Dr. Valus saw the flower that Dr. Alexander had given me. He asked where I had gotten it, and I told him. This seemed to infuriate him, and he would not speak to me except in short, clipped tones the rest of the day. He was very agitated every time I saw him.

The next morning, I was awoken by Miles, the janitor, who told me to come quick. It seemed that one of the inmates had escaped from his cell. Dr. Valus had, apparently, gone to feed the inmates alone, and said that this particular inmate had broken from his restraints, attacked him, and fled into the asylum. Despite myself, I suspect that Dr. Valus may have still been upset about the flower Dr. Alexander gave me, and made an error in judgment when setting the inmate's restraints.

Dr. Valus insists, of course, that he made no mistake, and that the inmate simply broke free. I doubted this, for the inmates had all been calm and passive ever since Dr. Alexander began feeding them his elixir; but Dr. Valus said that he had not seen Dr. Alexander since the previous morning, and so the inmates had not received the elixir in almost a full day.

Dr. Alexander was still nowhere to be found, and I feared something terrible had happened to him, especially if the escaped inmate came upon him alone in the asylum. Dr. Valus, Miles, and myself searched the asylum as a single party, trying to find the escaped inmate. However, our doom was already sealed. Upon our third circuit of the cellblock, we discovered the several more cells had been opened, and the inmates escaped. Dr. Valus decided that it was time to flee the asylum, but it was too late.

A dozen or more inmates descended upon us in a fury. They dragged us away from one another, describing the horrible things they would do to us. I feel lucky, at least, that they only threw me in a cell and locked the door. For a while I feared they would return to torment me, but after a while, the asylum grew silent, and it seemed they had escaped into the Haunted Woods.

I sit here, now, lucky that I carried a pen and a last sheet of paper with me, so that I can document what has happened. The flower that Dr. Alexander gave me shows no sign of wilting, and so I suppose it is as magical as he claimed. It is my only companion, now, and the only memory I have of any brief happiness I felt in these last two weeks.

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