I'm fine. Just to get that out of the way. Daddy just stood there. Watching. When the police arrived, we ran out of the house and into their cars and they whisked us away. We slept at the station.
I have some stuff to say.
Last night changed a lot for me, because it forced me to come to a conclusion I never thought I would. You see, assuming Daddy was just some serial murderer was easy, but it ignored so much. The strange dimensions. The headaches. The fact that it seems like I had dreams about this whole thing before it happened. And our inability to stop him using methods that, to anyone else, would be beyond beatable. The distortion in videos, despite comparative clarity with photographs.
Whatever Daddy is, I don't think he's something that modern science knows about. I don't think he's human. I don't know what he is, and this far outside of my comfort zone, I refuse to speculate, but that's a conclusion I've been forced to come to. I know it sounds crazy; hell, right now it seems like you'd have reason to assume I AM crazy. But whatever Daddy is, he's not something DCI. Duncan or any other damn detective is equipped to handle. He's something else. God only knows what. Alien? Some kind of monster?
Christ, listen to me. I sound like a fucking conspiracy theorist ranting about men in black. I just...I can't come up with a conventional explaination which fits what's going on here.