End.

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.

Bang.

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.

Damn

Thought I couldn't cry anymore.

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?