(I like to imagine that transfurs have the potential to take WAY longer in the story of things than in the actual gameplay. Also forgive me if this is cliche.)
Note: The laboratory-provided journals that this was written on was found covered in slime, so that's something.
"I don't have much time. This was a mistake. All of this was a mistake. Signing that forsaken contract was a mistake. The end is nigh for me, and I can only hope this makes it to someone, even if I won't be around to know about it.
Ever since I learned basic cognitive function as a toddler, I always wanted to do stuff like this, or at least, stuff like what they said I would do. I knew about safety hazards when experimenting, of course, but this wasn't like anything else. The failures were alive. And their gazes. I knew they wanted me dead. No, not dead, even worse than that, as I've managed to find out after looking through some things. Now I'm next.
That single pen stroke sealed my fate. At first, the premises weren't anything strange; save for puddles and random objects strewn about. I've come to learn what every last one of those things were later.
Then I saw my first ones. Seeing their faces was the moment where I realized I've made a huge mistake. They were creatures, seemingly having been converted into bizarre monsters, but just how they were turned was what I was then foolish enough to not know.
As you could guess, I started running. But those bastards shut the way out off. Figures. So I had nowhere to run, except for somewhere which would only take me deeper inside the building. But you gotta do what you gotta do, so naturally, I headed there. It can't get worse, right?
...Wrong. Again, I saw more of them. Those bastards were everywhere, weren't they? I ran and swerved past. I couldn't possibly give a flying fuck if I was exhausted by then; it's like I forgot fatigue was a thing. But although that wasn't an issue with how fearful I was, the REAL problem was the quantity. I knew heading deeper at this point would make everything even harder to survive, but I'd much rather do that than stop here, and these halls aren't quite favorable for running in circles until they give up, so again, I just headed there anyways.
I went deeper and deeper. Honestly, I didn't care what any last one of them looked like; all I thought I had to do was run no matter how tempting shit may get from here. Of course, though, after all this running...
It got dark. All of the lights went out. Of-fuckin'-course this place had a laughably faulty power grid too, as if literal monsters being all over the place didn't make this place enough of a hazard. So now I was in the dark. My only source of light was the objects all over the place, which apparently shifted into different things, variants of the objects that were more luminescent; oh, and glowing puddles. It was still dark, though.
That's where the end truly grew near. I couldn't see well, but the furry beasts, whatever they're actually called could; guess they must've adapted to being drenched in darkness every once in a while.
I was ambushed by them, as you'd probably expect. I tried to fight them off, but I wasn't quite the strongest person out there, so that didn't help either.
One of them wrapped their arms around my neck, leaving me in a brace. The grip was too strong. Again, I tried fighting, but I was outclassed. Once I was next to one of many glowing pudles, they suplexed me onto it. Oh, and it was pik. Not like that maters, but yeah.
It probably goes withot saying that when I touched the puddle, it hurt like hel. It wasn't because I was getting suplexed; well, it kinda was, because I GOT SUPEXED OF COURSE, but the puddle itself... It burnt. It was like an acid of sorts.
After a few moments, I got yoinked off. That's when I knew I was officially fucked; my hands were a glowing geen. I manage to run a bit mor and hide somewhere while they weren't holding me captiv, but thedin't givechaese this time. Mabyae they knwooa that Im fukkd inny cas.
I loked myself up in this room with a journal I got provided by the laboratory staff near tgentrance, alongwith other stuf. Didn't lock myself to protect mefrom othes, buto protectotters fome; onteche psoces ))(which is sow and paimidna ful u) is finished, Ibanother creature, likeze ones thatried to gettme.
To whover manages to find this, I urge you... Shit, I don't even know anymore. God, whever thisguck is, ioing amber on myche. Whas Ivenrying to say? I havnea mfask I can;'ta take of. Gocfre minf dait fai ednmfiaosnfmoigajw#TJQT80|@#9i#%("
From there, the remainder of the writing was incoherent scribbling, before abruptly cutting off with one final stroke; it was likely that the transformation was completed before the writer could get whatever they were trying to say through. They couldn't even leave a message in time; how unfortunate... Like they ever had a chance, in any case.
