14 May 2027
Friday. A survivor asked at the door whether she would have to crawl through an air vent. Everybody asks about the air vents. They have seen the films.
There are no vents to crawl through. There is no crawling at all and nothing to squeeze into. The lab is a room, the chamber is in it, and everybody stays on their feet. If anybody ends up in a vent, it will be me, and only if the biscuits run out.
People who dislike tight spaces generally cope well. The Melbourne lab is the snuggest of the three, and anybody unsure can ask the staff before booking. Melbourne also asks anyone heavily pregnant, or with a pacemaker, to think about the jump scares first, which I consider wise. Gerald is not subtle.
A survivor expecting her first child ran the whole cure today from the middle of the room. She told the staff afterwards that the baby kicked every time Gerald hit the glass. I have logged the baby as a fifth team member. Unofficially. The limit is four.
Gerald has no opinion on vents. Gerald has no opinion on anything except the glass.
— Dr Morrow, Storeroom B
