First Officer's Log 01
Recorded 9:28PM

My escape-pod has crashed. I have no idea where, but it's clear it was a problematic landing, to say the least. Most of the pod's systems are damaged beyond repair, and I had to put out a few fires. A couple of things are still sparking, and there are some worrying beeps and whirrs, but I think everything's okay for now. The computer mainframe is still running, so things like food and water shouldn't be a problem – the computer will automatically serve those – but I'm not sure how much this pod has in stock – and I dare not open the pod door. Outside on this planet it is dark, but the moon casts a ghostly light over the world. I can see creatures. One that looked like a human walked obliviously past my pod earlier. I was tempted to try and get its attention but when it turned towards me I saw that its flesh was rotting away – half of its jaw was missing, exposing blood and bone, and as it groaned hungrily the blood bubbled and dripped out of its mouth, staining the ground. Luckily it didn't notice me and walked away after a moment or so. Some of the night stalkers seem to have rotted away completely, leaving only a skeleton, which somehow walks about, and even wields a primitive bow and arrow, without collapsing to the floor. Monsters of all shapes and sizes wander around aimlessly outside, but they are too far away for me to see anything other than their ragged silhouettes. Although I cannot stand the dark – it is my greatest fear, among many, I admit – I have reluctantly turned the pod's lighting down to minimum, not only to save energy but to keep those things away from me – I assume they are probably attracted by light and noise. I try to sleep but there's no bed and outside, I can feel vibrations in the ground as the spawn of hell stalk around in the darkness.

First Officer's Log 02
Recorded 7:56AM

Morning has broken after what seems like forever. After suffering through a night of barely any sleep, I was awoken by the most hellish sounds. One of the shambling corpses I mentioned before was a few metres away from my pod; the morning sun illuminated its disgusting features even more clearly for me than previously. As I watched it shuffle around aimlessly, it suddenly burst into flames, scaring me out of my skin. It took a few seconds before the tongues of flame had completely licked up the last of the walking remains, and dotted around in the distance I could see other monsters meeting the same fate. What is this planet – some hell world where the dead are punished? How can such a beautiful world – and it is truly spectacular, lush green grass, meadows stretching out as far as the eye can see, clumps of short and tall trees forming oddly shaped forests, the sky bright blue and the sun yellow and radiant – be the home of such hellish creatures?

I suppose, on the plus side, the burning beings reminded me about the atmosphere outside. A quick analysis of the air composition reveals it is fairly similar to my own planet, with plenty of oxygen and nitrogen to allow me to breathe without too much trouble.

If I ever muster up the courage to step outside.

Recorded 8:02AM
I tried fixing some of the broken machinery, but I'm a useless engineer, so I was just pressing the most important-looking buttons and putting random wires together in the hopes that everything would switch back on.

I had to put out some more fires.

Recorded 8:10AM

Had dried fruit for breakfast. A pig came over and walked into the pod, mistaking the glass for empty space. I thought the pig might turn into a demon if I laughed at it, so I threw some fruit through the viewhole of the pod instead. We ate together.

Recorded 8:16AM

I tried fixing the machinery again. The fire extinguisher has run out of foam. I don't think I'll try again. In fact I seem to have single-handedly done more damage to the pod than the crash.

The pig wandered off into the forest after eating my fruit. Greedy bastard.

First Officer's Log 03
Recorded 9:24AM

I decided to try and take advantage of the day in order to see what kind of planet this was, and if they had any supplies I could possibly use to fix the pod. If they didn't, well, I'd be getting use to what would become my new home.

Home. It wasn't great, but it was something. I grew up there, spent my whole life on that planet, and now it was just another dot in the vast starry sky. I realised I was missing it a lot – it dawned on me how long it had been since I had spoken, and how there was this cold ache twisting inside of me which I recognised as loneliness. I didn't have any family to miss me, or even that many friends. I didn't remember much – in fact, I probably had amnesia, I found I was struggling to remember many details about life before the crash – but I remembered that I'd never really had any friends. In fact, I was teased and ridiculed for most of my life – not sure why…but I ought to be used to the loneliness by now. No one was thinking about me – hell, probably no one at home even knew I was gone, or cared. All the communication systems were busted – I couldn't contact anyone. The only person I'd spoken to was a computer, and that was just to say 'serve breakfast', not to have any scrap of intelligent conversation. In fact, the closest thing to a friend I'd had on this whole planet – no, in my life in general – was a bloody pig. I realised that I had kicked the main computer console in my anger and a throbbing pain was beginning to resonate in my right foot. Then I realised I was talking to myself.

I curled up in the pilot's chair and cried for a little while. Not just about my foot, either.

First Officer's Log 04
Recorded 9:54AM

I finally mustered up the courage (and the dignity) to walk the earth about me, after establishing the air was breathable. I initially feared that I too would burn up in the sun the moment I touched the ground, but a couple of laps around the pod quickly disproved that theory. I finally managed to get a decent look at my surroundings. A forest is close by – in fact I am just on the edge of it, but it looked too dark and threatening (as well as provoking memories of the night before) so I have yet to venture in. Other than that, the place is relatively flat, other than a few hills peaking up in the distance, which – thankfully – a river flows down. I've no idea whether it is a river of water, poison, piss, liquid gold or some other weird thing, but the purification systems on board the pod should make it safe enough to drink if it ever comes to that. I sometimes see figures walking around in the distance, but they don't seem to notice me, and if they do they don't come any closer, which I'm thankful for. The forest also has apple trees in it – or perhaps some strange equivalent – so food is no longer much of a concern. However the pod is fast running out of energy and I'm not sure how much longer the systems will last. I've seen no buildings, roads, houses, or indeed any indication of civilisation, so I'm either really unlucky and landed in a region where people don't live, or I'm really unlucky and the whole planet turns out to be as primitive as this. Either way, it seems I will have to find some way to survive in the wild.

This will not end well.

Recorded 10:56AM
I demonstrated a most incredible feat of strength today. I had decided to risk using up some of the pod's precious power supply by having the computer research some basic survival strategies. Based on the basic description of my surroundings I had given it, it told me that wood was essential, and is used as the basis for pretty much everything needed for survival – construction of a shelter, tools, building, fuel for fire – so really it was pretty fortunate I'd landed next to a decent sized forest. The trees were small, but plentiful.

Anyway, I had deliberated for a while as to how to acquire wood. I had no axe to hand, and the computer research had drained a good chunk of the remaining battery, so I was now strictly rationing my energy use, and didn't have the balls to use up more using a power tool and damn the consequences. Energy for my ship I considered just as valuable a resource as this bloody wood I was supposed to be getting. In frustration at my predicament, I swung a furious fist at the tree trunk, fully expecting my hand to break, but to my astonishment, the chunk of wood I aimed at was broken clean off from the tree trunk (which somehow, I'm assuming due to strange inconsistent gravity, remained standing tall) and shrunk down into a tiny dice sized version of itself, which began hovering just slightly above the ground, bobbing up and down and slowly spinning. I let out a gasp of amazement, and just to be sure it wasn't fake wood, I tapped the trunk of the tree. The taps echoed solidly throughout the tree, rusting the leaves. It was real. How had I done that? Gingerly I tried my newfound strength on a couple of other trees, and they too reacted in the exact same way – and they too seem to be the real thing rather than some lightweight imitation. I managed to get enough to build a crude shack, but inside it is extremely cramped and dark, so I installed a skylight, which also lets a little air in, since I have no idea how to make something as complex as a door. Does this planet even have doors?

First Officer's Log 05
Recorded 10:32PM

Over the course of what feels like an incredibly long day I have been collecting more wood with this incredible new super-punch I seem to have acquired. I spent several laborious hours whittling down these huge chunks of wood down into sticks. This wouldn't have been so bad if I had any decent cutting tools, but unfortunately I was limited to the dinky plastic knives, which come with the self-heating meals served on the pod, which slowed the whole process down, as I'm sure you can imagine. I constructed a decent sized fire outside of my little house (having it inside would have been preferable if the shack wasn't made completely out of wood) but I think I shall put it out soon, so nothing is attracted by the light, sound or smoke. I don't want to risk a wake-up call from an undead monster, or whatever else is roaming around out there.

That is, if I even get any sleep at all. Ground baked hard by the sun is not the most comfortable bedding.

Recorded 2:22AM

Blast. I spent such a long time tossing and turning in the tickly grass, almost freezing to death in the cold breeze, listening to the groaning and scuttling noises outside, separated by only a wall – but now I'm awake again. Thank God for the skylight – it allows the moon's soft silvery light to trickle in, which is a blessing. I hadn't realised how frightening the dark is before – maybe it's a combination of chills, loneliness and homesickness, but the shadows seem to be alive, embroiling and entangling me in ebony webs of darkness. Perhaps I am more nyctophobic than I thought, or maybe it's just the ping of string and soft hissing of God-knows-what outside that's messing with my mind. Either way, I'm curled up in the corner of the shack, hugging my knees to fight the fear as well as the bitter cold. I think I shall try and get back to sleep now. Speaking into a recorder is just reminding me of how lonely I am. But then again, not doing anything just lets my mind wander and come back to the sense of impending doom.

Please don't leave me. I'm scared.

First Officer's Log 06

Recorded 6:56AM

Something is up there.

Something is blocking the skylight.

A creature of some sort – it looks like a spider, only bigger and blockier – it looks like all its components have been hurriedly spliced together with little care, in a Petri dish of hell; eight great chunky legs, a fat black block of a body, and clumps of glaring and glowing red eyes dotted on its face. It rests on the skylight, four legs resting on either side of the skylight, while its body sits and sags in the middle, just above my head. It doesn't seem to have noticed me, but it doesn't look like it'll be moving on any time soon either. The sun comes up, but for some reason it doesn't burn up like I can hear other things doing outside, moaning and squealing in pain. This thing is immune to the flames, and sits on my roof, making a disgusting spitting-like sound that makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. I don't dare move from my corner until I come to the conclusion that I am the only being that can get rid of it. Clasping a stick in my hand, I reach up and try to gently poke it, not forcibly enough as to annoy it, but firmly enough to get it move on.

I only seem to accomplish pissing it off.

As soon as the tip of the stick even brushes against the monster, it whips round, its mouth open wide, exposing its huge fangs dripping with venom. I jumped back as it struggles to squeeze itself through the skylight, but thankfully it can't seem to get through, so it just watches me press myself against the wall, as it snaps and snarls at me ferociously. What have I done?

In panic at a particularly terrifying and off putting snarl from the monster, I thrust the stick into its belly, driving the point deep into the creature's body, trying not to let the awful squelching sound of stick piercing hide deter me. Blood and guts poured down from the ceiling, staining my uniform, but the creature, though it let out what sounded like a half-strangled cry of pain, didn't seem to be that put off. It scrabbled against the edges of the hole in desperation, so I stabbed it again and again, not paying any attention to the fact that a mixture of blood, bits and venom dripping down on me as I hacked and slashed at the monster above me. Finally it cried out for the last time and collapsed down through the hole, becoming limp. I backed up against the wall and collapsed in exhaustion and fright.

The bloodied corpse slowly evaporated into thin air, leaving behind a small piece of string in the place of the monstrous spider.

This world seems to disregard logic at every opportunity.