Friday, March 25, 2011

My godchildren are missing.

I cut contact with them and their mother as soon as I realized what was happening to me. Stopped visiting, stopped answering phone calls, I didn’t even send them presents over the holidays. I thought it would be enough to keep this away from them.

Their mother just called me at work. She went to wake them up this morning and they were missing from their beds. There was a note. She told it me all it said was “midnight with some kind of weird hugs and kisses symbol.”

My godchildren are only five and six. And it took them, or one of its toys took them, same difference.

It’s all my fault.


  1. Wait, what woah? Woah, the hunting age is eight and above. At least that's what I was told. I don't understand what's going on...

  2. -hugs tight- Kay, I... I'm so sorry. I truly am.

  3. Im so sorry Kay. It's not your fault. It's his.

  4. There's not a whole lot either you or anyone else can do in this situation. We're all groping in the dark looking for answers, and without those answers we have no way of protecting anyone. Don't blame yourself. Or if you must, let it fuel your fight against him. But don't let it defeat you. There are precious few of us fighting against him. We need all the help we can get.

  5. Damn.

    Kay. It's got to be part of something to get you out of the house and into the woods. That's what it boils down to, they want you where you're weaker and he is stronger. I expect you'll get a ransom letter in THEIR traditional, creepy, disgusting fashion.

    But it ain't over until it's over. I'll E-mail you something that MIGHT do the trick if they try it. Just remember: This isn't your fault. They took this madness to your home, and there's no reason to blame the tortured for the torturer's insanity. This isn't about being a hero, or saving the day, this is about your right to live your life in peace. Just remember: It's always darkest just before dawn.