Tuesday, May 1, 2012


It seems like everything about this fucked up situation is a joke. Since the beginning everything just went wrong. I mean how does a life like this even happen? Hell, how was I not killed in the beginning? Do I got the best luck or the worst luck?

Now that’s a good question.

Thought I couldn’t feel anymore. My head got so fucked up by everything, all the forgetting and the time skips, waking up and not remembering how I traveled states overnight, torturing people but feeling like I was torturing myself. Thought I couldn’t feel. I guess, I mean Ray died and Ava died too right? I didn’t have friends, but I guess I did and didn’t even realize it until they were gone. Funny how that works.

Guess I forgot I had a wife too. Only realized how much I loved her when she…

I wonder if I still got a daughter. She might hate me now.

You messed up Cathy—it’s a boy, Cathy. He’s beautiful, Cathy. Looks like his mommy and, heh, I think that’s better personally speaking.

This is my final entry.

What do I remember at this point? I’m Anthony Delmont, or Tony for short. For the longest time the police and my family thought I was dead. I ran for eleven…twelve years now…from a monster that ruined my life, my parents lives, my friends lives, my wife’s life and my children’s lives. I have two kids. A boy and a girl. I have one friend who’s still living. My wife is

I drove to the meeting place with Simon. It was in the middle of the woods. I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe another firey showdown, another chance for Cynthia to be free from everything, another lost limb. Heh, losing a limb would have been a lot better.

Thought Cynthia was staying at the house, mad in her room. Turns out she stowed away in the trunk of the car. It’s a lousy trunk—never locked properly. I was furious that she came with us because there was no time to take her back. I heard screaming coming from the distance and we had to follow. We came on this little abandoned two story house. Had vines growing in and around it, graffiti spray painted everywhere, and a bad vibe. But we had to go in. I told Cynthia to go wait in the car but when we turned around I swear I couldn’t tell where we came from. It’s like the car never existed, there were just trees everywhere and it was dizzying.

Outside wasn’t safe. We had to go inside. Had to take Cynthia with us, couldn’t leave her alone. Simon had a gun and lent another one to me, and he gave Cynthia this taser that he had on him and told her to use the shot wisely. Use it wisely…still not sure what he was doing. I think he was just trying to hold it together, probably assumed we were all dead. I don’t think he ever thought anyone would actually die though. I don’t think I did either.

It was all empty downstairs. But the screaming, that came from upstairs. And I knew who was screaming. I knew god help me I knew but I didn’t know why she was screaming. Didn’t want Cynthia to follow me so I told Simon to get his back to a corner and protect her with his life. Ran upstairs. And she was there.

I found her again and I could’ve protected her and gotten her away from all of this. I swear I could have. She was just in so much pain and bleeding too much. There was just too much of it and it had gone on for too long. It was covering her legs and her waist and when she saw me she begged me to come help her, crying and whimpering. I practically collapsed onto my knees next to her and dropped my gun—I didn’t care if she wanted me dead or not because that was my wife no matter what happened, my goddamned wife

I loved her I swear I loved her

There was something wrong with the baby. She kept saying it was trying to claw its way out, that it was special and that I had to save it. Save her. She wanted me to save her. She was in so much pain and she was so scared. The monster was coming for her, she said, it was coming for her baby and it was going to take it away. But you wouldn’t let that happen, would you Anthony? You love me, don’t you, Anthony? Please Anthony, please make it stop, make the pain stop.

I’m dying Anthony.

You can’t fix me, Anthony.

Save me, Anthony. Save me, save me, save me…please.

She told me that it was too late for her. She was in too deep and there was no getting out of it except for one way. One way. Tell Cynthia I love her so, so much, and Mommy wishes she could have been a better mother, one that protected her no matter what. Tell Simon that he’s a great man no matter who says different and he’s the best policeman she’s ever met. Tell me—tell Anthony—I love you. No matter who we met and what we did and what happened, I love you and you’ve done such a good job, Anthony. You’re going to be an amazing father. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s alright, please just do it. I love you.


One shot to the head. She was smiling as I did it. Always smiling. I wish I could have smiled back, given her some reassuring look, told her that it wasn’t gonna hurt, that all the bad stuff just…disappeared. It’s all better now, you’re happier where you are, that thing can’t hurt you anymore because it’ll never be able to reach Heaven.

I got the baby out Cathy. I had a knife and…I didn’t even know what I was doing I just killed my wife. Cynthia and Simon, I could hear them running up the stairs, so I took my knife and I cut him out, I saved your baby—our baby. Got the biggest, bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. Don’t think I made the best first impression though. Daddies aren’t supposed to cry as bad as their child, right?

I don’t remember much of what happened after. Cynthia took the boy from me and held him while Simon…buried Cathy. We didn’t see the monster. We didn’t see the Caretaker. We didn’t see anything and that made it worse. There was only one monster, wasn’t there? The entire time? One monster who could smile like a person and joke with other people and put on the perfect disguise.

Cathy—Catherine, if you can somehow see this way up there, I’ll take care of them. I’m so sorry. I should have been there, I should have saved you.

A lot of could have, should have and would haves.

I’m leaving. We’re leaving. This is my final entry. For those of you who are still fighting this thing, god help you because we can’t.

Just promise me...heh, for the sake of everyone who’s fought this far, you’ll keep your asses out of trouble.

Good luck.

Monday, April 30, 2012

Friday, March 2, 2012

This Caretaker guy that Cathy keeps talking about seems like just another average tool in the shed. I don't know how we haven't caught him yet but I know if he decides to keep the creepy scrapbooking up we'll find him and kick his ass. Maybe he'll even tell us where Cathy is so we can finally get her away from that thing.

I've been keeping Cynthia from getting on the blog. There's no need for her to get involved in a shit storm again seeing as it almost broke her last time. I think that therapist that she sees actually helps though. She's calmer than she's been in weeks. Maybe that psychotherapy mumbo-jumbo isn't such bullshit after all. Simon says that she just needed someone to unload on, even if it's not the full truth. Says I'm not the best option for that and I guess he's right. Who wants to talk to their sociopathic father who looks like a pirate? Not many kids, I think.

Speaking of Simon he's been getting more uneasy. I think the pictures got to him more than us cause' we're used to crazy things like that. He's always triple checking the locks and making sure the alarm is on. Not that I'm complaining since some security is better than none, I just think in the long run a few dinky bolts aren't gonna hold what's really after us away.

As for me I've been spending my days by myself mostly. Valentine's Day came and went and, fuck, I don't remember much of it since I got drunk pretty bad. Simon says he kept Cynthia away from me so at least he's not totally useless. I'm not paranoid but I'm not carefree. I'm somewhere in between where I've become so jaded with all this supernatural bullshit that I'm not really surprised by anything anymore. I don't think it's a good thing for me to not care as much, but it comes with the time spent having to deal with all of this.

How are all you kiddies doing? Keepin' your asses outta trouble?

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

I was having a nice breakfast since Simon apparently knows how to cook when I see Cathy's latest post. Now Simon's computer is covered in water because I choked and spit it out when I read. That's my baby? Shit I don't even remember what happened during those two months so how does she know for sure?!

I mean how long has she had the thing?!

How the fuck am I supposed to handle this when I don't even know where she is and whether or not she's crazy and out for my blood? Goddammit things keep getting more and more complicated...

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Fucking hell

Things are getting RETARDEDLY CHAOTIC again. Just when I thought they were gonna calm down and maybe we'd live a little normally...

Cathy is pregnant and I don't even fucking know who did it.

Ava is back.

Goddamn Robert is back too.

And Cynthia...well, today at school she saw our old pal hanging outside her classroom window and watching her. She got fucking spooked so bad she had to ask the teacher if she could leave early. Apparently she was more scared of it hurting that Leah kid then caring about herself, heh. She's got some balls, that's for sure.

With everything happening around the same time I can only assume that shit is about to get pretty messed up pretty fast. I warned Simon and Cynthia to keep their heads low and try not to update her blog as much or at all. We don't need to draw the attention of the stupid minions. Last thing we need is some idiot psycho charging into the house with a cleaver screaming that it wants us dead or back or something. I'll be updating this stupid thing though seeing as there's not really a choice at this point with my wife not only missing but with child and a familiar face popping back up.

I dunno, guess it's time to get ready to fight again.

....Keep your asses outta trouble.

Wednesday, November 2, 2011

You know, it's the funniest fucking thing when your daughter who isn't really your daughter has more balls to try and do something than you. And her pet copper decides to take her side of the argument one night so you have to drag the stupid shit outta the room by his ear and argue with him like you're a married couple.

Hell, maybe this is why those moms around the neighborhood have been giving us odd looks, hehe.

But whatever, that's beside the point. The point is that I still can't fucking remember what happened during that time Cathy and I were missing. I have no idea why she's a minion for it now. I don't know how we got out of the goddamn forest. And I sure as hell don't know why I was lying in a warehouse with it suddenly looming in the corner acting like it was gonna kill me this time for sure.

Fuck I don't even know how the hell I got away. It could have killed me and I'm not stupid enough to think it was my own amazing agility that got me away. It fucking let me go like it's been letting me go for eleven years. Eleven. Goddamn. Years.

So what, I'm just some fucking hilarious toy that just never stops being fun to mess with? I guess that's it cause' there's no other way to explain how I survived this thing haunting me during my teenage years and then stalking me and using me during my thirties. I mean, fuck, I turn forty this week. I haven't even thought about my birthday for years and out of the blue Cynthia mentions that Simon's is in December and I remember that my birthday is November 5th. I didn't have time to think about birthdays when I was on the run. Honestly I fucking thought every year would be the year that my "luck" finally ran out and I'd kick the bucket.

Now look at me: one of the oldest goddamn runners that I know, alone and miserable, living with some traffic-cop-fbi-wannabe and my unrelated daughter who doesn't even seem to really like me at all, and wondering when that thing will just come and put me out of my misery.

I've been through hell and fuck sometimes I wish it would end. I'm old. Got gray hairs coming in fast and joints creaking. I have too many scars- thanks to that Elijah fucker and other minions like him- to let me walk through town without people looking at me suspiciously. I lost a fucking eye and got some nice marks all over my face that make me look like I'm sneering all the time. I've broken so many bones that one of my hands is twisted in some crippled position. On bad days I can only limp around cause my right leg fucking kills me. Back pains, bone pain, fucking my whole body hurts pain.

I guess this is just a game to that thing. See how long Tony can withstand this torture, how long his body can take the hurt. I can't keep going like this. One day I'm not gonna be strong enough to survive the next minion attack or I'll just fucking let that thing rip me to shreds.

It'd be so fuckin' easy, y'know? But then I got my little daughter-who-looks-like-a-son telling me she's gonna play hero and run off to find her mommy and she's fucking eleven years old and I just have to keep going. I gotta find a way to make sure she's safe from everything that could hurt her before I call it quits. Goddamn I just wanna delete this stupid blog. Everything got worse cause' I made it. If I just hadn't stolen that one teenagers itouch-pod-thing then maybe all of this wouldn't happen. Or maybe Cathy and Cynthia would be dead- I don't even fucking know anymore.

Time has gotten real jumbled for me. My memories are fading or mixing cause' of all the mind fucking I've experienced over the last...entirety of my life. Sometimes I wake up thinking it's a different year, that I'm somewhere else and I gotta kill someone. I mean hell, I'm even forgetting basic functions sometimes. There's only so much a mind can be messed with before it breaks too. The other day I forgot how to work the toaster. Laugh it up because yeah, it's a goddamn toaster. But for the life of me my brain stopped working and I just stood there holding a piece of bread in one hand and staring in frustration at the stupid thing cause' my body wouldn't move and my mind wouldn't work it out and tell it how to move. Simon did it for me.

I'm falling apart. I don't have much time left. I need to find out how to get Cynthia safe soon cause' I don't know how much more I can take. Shit, it sounds depressing and yeah I just ranted to some idiot kids on the fucking internet but I don't even care at this point. I just wanna make everything better for my daughter. That's all I want.

Thursday, October 13, 2011


How the fuck have you kiddies been?

My entire body has been in pain for the last...I dunno, week or two that I can remember. I have no idea what happened after the stand off in the field, I just know I woke up in some warehouse somewhere. I had no idea where the fuck I was and Cathy was laying next to me unconscious.

The problem is...Cathy wasn't herself. When she woke up she was acting strange and I got pretty paranoid pretty fast. You can't trust her cause', well, it showed up and she went with it willingly. Started smiling and laughing like it was the best thing in the world. I got the hell out of there before it turned its attention towards me, tried to drag Cathy along with me but she socked me in the face with the one arm she has left. Yeah, her other arm is definitely cut off at the elbow but it looks like it was burnt to prevent it from bleeding out. Not sure who did that, but it looked almost like, well, these really long fingers like it had grabbed her.

Anyway she has a mean right hook and started shouting at me. She didn't make any sense and it was coming closer. I...had to leave her. As soon as I figured out where the hell I was- fucking California of all places- I had to hitch hike my way across the country with basically no money and all my shit missing except for the clothes on me.

Eventually I got to Georgia. Just hoofed it once I was close enough and of course it started fucking raining while I was walking for hours. Got some strange looks in the process, but I like to think it's cause' of my amazingly good looks. I honestly just wandered around until I remembered where Simon's house was.

Hehe, tell you what though, the look on his face when he opened the door to me standing drenched in the rain looking like shit, hungry, smelly and pissed, was priceless. I think he about peed himself which would have been perfect. But before he could really say anything Cynthia came out of fucking no where and kicked me in the shin. Yeah, nice daughter. Started yelling at me and saying that she wasn't gonna go back and shit like that. I guess she thought I had been taken by it and was a minion again. I mean, jeez, gimme a little bit of credit, I survived over ten years and got away from that thing before, I'm stronger than I look.

Anyway, when she came close I just pulled her into a hug. I mean, shit, she's my daughter, related or not. I was supposed to give her the ideal life- y'know, take her wherever she wants, talk to any potential boyfriends and scare them off, and tuck her in at night. But I couldn't and she suffered because of me. I know she did. The second it clicked in her head that I wasn't trying to hurt her she started crying and snotting all over the place. Hugged me back and said a bunch of stuff that got muffled by my jacket.

But I got the gist of it. I missed her too and I was glad that she was alright too.

She got me inside and Simon still looked like he wanted to shoot me or report me or something- which I don't blame him for, I'd be pretty fucking suspicious too- but Cynthia, heh, started ordering him around like he was the child and she was the adult. Got me a shower, some clean clothes and food before the two of them started drowning me in all their questions. Where had I been? What happened? How did I survive? Where was Cathy?

...I had to break that to her. It hurt her, I can tell. Hurt me too. She's thinking this is all her fault when it's really not. Fuck, I dunno, I tried making her feel better but I'm no mommy and I haven't actually taken care of kids before. Even Simon seems to be better at this than me, which makes sense cause' he's a little bitch, but still...it's my kid, y'know? We're gonna try figuring out how to get Cathy back but hell, Cathy and I couldn't even do it before when Cynthia got taken...it's hard to get your hopes up after so long of them being shot down.

Fuck anyway, I've been resting up. Apparently wherever I was this past...almost two months I didn't exactly eat or sleep well and took a beating. I got new bruises and scars and some nice burns to add to my collection of fucked up body parts. I bet I look like Prince fucking Charming, hehe.

What the hell has happened while I've been gone?