Hi Reddit. Thanks again for your overwhelming support. I didn’t know what to expect when I posted this, but the results are astounding. Thank you. I decided to go with the majority vote and post the rest of this story as one big long post. I couldn’t sleep last night because of the nightmares again, so I stayed up until 5 am writing this, slept for a few hours, and continued writing throughout the day. If it wasn’t Saturday today, I would have continued posting in parts. If anything is wrong in the story, I was up until 5 am writing this for you, so forgive me. It wouldn’t be a Michael Morris post without some clarification before I resume. I’ve received a few PMs regarding details about the last posts. I’ve pushed them off until this post.
I didn’t have a phone with me the night they broke into Reggie’s, so yes, it was ridiculous for Reggie to shout “call Jason” while he was running for the only phone in the house.
My memory on when the power was actually cut is fuzzy. One minute I was ignoring the background noise of computers and the fridge, and the next I became aware that they were dead.
Just so you know, I spent time at Reggie’s writing in my therapy journal. Once again, it’s why this story can be so detailed.
Someone commented that I said I was in a board meeting while Lucy was at soccer practice, which made me late to pick her up, but then I worked as a welder afterwards. I was a welder fresh out of high school, so it wasn’t a random career swap. I couldn’t stand my old job as a project manager after Lucy disappeared. As I mentioned, I went through 5 jobs in 4 and a half years. I was a mess.
In an earlier post, I said I would refer to the psycho group as “psycho-org” but then never used the name. Sorry. I thought I was going to talk about them a lot more than I did, so I never needed the name.
Someone asked me why I didn’t take the phone and the picture of the captured kids to the police once Jason showed it to me. Well, if you reread it, the phone was already out of my control at that point. And I forgot to tell you that Jason took the picture back after I had looked at it. Sorry for forgetting to mention details.
So, back to where we left off. "Trick or treat," the child repeated, louder this time. I knew damn well that it was the same kid or recording or whatever I'd heard on Halloween. We had ducked behind the desk, keeping it between us and the door. The shattered window was wide open several feet behind us. I kept glancing back at it to make sure no one was crawling through. "What's the plan?" I whispered. Someone knocked softly again. The gentleness of the knock was unnerving. "Plan?" Reggie replied. He was desperately tapping keys on his computer, probably trying to wake it up. He didn't seem to notice that his computers were silent. "I don't have a plan." "How could you not plan for this?" I hissed. "Why didn't you??" He spat back. "You're the one they're after!" "I thought you were Jason's friend! You know, all prepared and one step ahead of the psychopaths?" "I'm just a friend of Evan's, dude. I was told you needed a place to lie low, that's it." "Okay, okay," I said. "Do you have any weapons? A gun?" "No, no guns. I'm not allowed to have them. Former criminal charges." "Okay, fine. Knives it is," I said, standing up. I haven't explained the layout of Reggie's home very well, but his home consisted of one main room with two adjoining bedrooms and one adjoining bathroom. I crossed the few feet over to the kitchen counter and searched for the knife rack I'd seen before. It wasn't there. "Where’d you put the knives?" I hissed. "They aren't there?" Reggie's voice broke. "I haven't touched them!" In desperation, I opened the silverware drawer. Empty. Once again, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. They'd already been in the house. They took the knives. God knew what else they'd done. I slipped back by the desk to inform Reggie, but he just pointed at the door. I looked and froze. All three locks, one on the handle, a deadbolt, and a door chain, were all unlocked. My breath left my lungs. "Why aren't they just coming in?" I whispered quietly. "They've already been in the house and took the knives away. Why are they just sitting out there?" "What makes you so sure there's more than one?" Reggie asked. In response, the window in Reggie's room shattered and a rock thudded to the floor. Another knock at the door immediately after. Somehow, they could hear us. Reggie started shaking. "How long until the phone can unlock?" I asked, whispering even quieter. Reggie hit the power button and looked at the display. "Seven minutes, 37 seconds," he said. I rolled my eyes at his specificity. "We need to get out of here," Reggie said. "We'll split up and run out both windows. One's at the door and one is running around the house. If we run in separate directions, they can't catch us both." I looked at the gaping hole into darkness behind us. There were still three unshattered windows, but they were so dirty that I couldn't see outside. "Not a good idea," I whispered. "Reggie, I don't think you understand. The door is unlocked. If they wanted to come in, they'd do it." "What do you think they want?" Reggie asked. That got me thinking. What did they want? There were a couple of possibilities. One, they wanted me dead so I'd stop looking for Lucy. That didn't seem likely, since they could have killed me already tonight. Two, they wanted to know where the psycho-hunters were and planned to torture us for that information. Again, why wouldn't they have already struck? I was stumped. And that scared me. See, when people are predictable, they aren't scary. But when they are unpredictable, that's what makes monsters terrifying. "I don't know what they want," I admitted to Reggie. "I vote that we sit and wait for your phone to work again." Reggie nodded, and we both sat on the floor. I kept my hand on the desk in case I needed to pull myself to action. Those seven minutes were the longest of my entire life. The sounds would alternate. There would be scratching at the door, the same scratching that had woken me. Then glass that had been still hanging on the window sill would fall into the room one at a time. I looked back and never saw so much as a finger. More knocks at the door. Footsteps on the roof. It was worse than any ghost because I knew that people were really out there. I'd seen one through the window. I couldn't pass off the sounds as normal house noises because I knew, I KNEW they weren't. Reggie and I sat there and counted down the last minute on the phone. As soon as the lock reset, he started to type the code, but I snatched it from him. "What's the code?" I hissed. "You're shaking too much." He whispered the code, and I typed it in. The phone unlocked, and I handed it back. He pulled up his contacts and searched for Jason's number. When he made the call, it rang six horrible times. The call went to Jason's voicemail. Reggie started to cry. "Oh God, oh God," he whimpered. He hit redial. It rang three times before Jason picked up. "Hello?" He said, sounding wide awake. "Jason, Jesus fuck someone's here they're going to kill us, oh God," Reggie spewed. All quiet whispering was forgotten. I cringed at his sudden loud voice. Now they definitely knew we'd contacted Jason. I twisted my head around to look at the black window. My stomach lurched when I saw a man with a deep smile and a bald head slip out of view. Then it hit me. "Jason, don't come," I hissed into the phone, yanking it from Reggie. "It's a trap. They're after you. They're after all of you." "Very perceptive," Jason said in his monotone. "That's quite obvious." "What do we do?" Reggie sobbed. "Jesus Christ, Jason, they're going to kill us." Chuckling could be heard beyond the door. Multiple people. "For now, nothing. I suspect they've broken the windows?" "Y-yes," Reggie sobbed again. I gave him a sharp look. I wished he'd shut up. "It's a common scare tactic. They scared you into calling me. You're not their target," he said. "We are. Hold on. We'll act soon." With that, the connection was closed. Reggie stared at the phone in disbelief. When you know the amount of time you have to wait until the next action occurs, it makes the time more bearable. But with an unknown amount of suffering until they arrived, I became desperate. I forgot all about Reggie. If he truly wasn't their target, they wouldn't harm him. If I wasn't their true target, then they wouldn't hurt me either. Pushing through my paralyzing fear, I stood up. I took a deep breath, clenched my fists, and ran towards my room. I knew there was glass on the floor, so instead of suffering through cuts again, I took a running leap, aiming for the broken window. In high school, I played baseball. I've fattened up since then, unfortunately. I was even fatter back then than I am now. But I managed to make it past the majority of the glass and grind through the window sill. I say grind because my hips got caught on my way out, so I had to pull myself the rest of the way through. I got up and started to run. The trees were several yards away, so I dashed across open ground with the new moon barely lighting my way. Behind me, I heard the door to the house fly open and Reggie start shrieking. It was too late to turn back. I skid to a stop when I saw a hooded figure standing in the trees. Oh shit. I veered right, going toward the road that led to the house. I barely made it ten steps before I saw the figure standing by the road too. Panic set in. I did a 180 and ran toward the back of the house, steering clear of the figure in the trees to my right. Two more figures were standing in the trees there. I stopped in my tracks and backed up. The psychos in the house were going to be out here after me any second. I knew there were more than one psycho there, but I hadn’t thought there would be this many just standing around and watching. My mind was made up. I ran toward the trees on the other side of the house, the only side I hadn't tried yet. If I couldn't escape, I was going to die trying. I'd rush past the figure standing there and hope I was faster. My breath was ragged and I hoped I'd have the energy. I got to the trees, and there he was. I calculated the space where I could get past before he could reach me. Gritting my teeth, I sped up, expecting to feel hands grab me. I felt nothing. I turned back. The figure was still standing there, facing the house. What the hell? Against my better judgement, I stopped. I jogged back to the figure. The figure had no legs. Instead, a piece of wood was dug into the ground supporting a mannequin's body sporting a black hoodie. The limp arms were tucked into the front pocket. "Son of a bitch," I muttered. They didn't have enough of them to truly cover the area, so they preyed on our fears in case we did escape. I stole a glance at the house. It was pitch dark inside and I couldn't detect any movement. Reggie was silent. There was nothing I could do for him, so I ran back through the trees and away from the house. The treeline was really just a few trees planted around the property. At the end of the treeline was a short chain link fence. I jumped over that quickly and dashed across someone's backyard. My only plan was to see if I could find a house with the lights on and someone awake. But I wanted to get as far away from the house as I could before I knocked on a door. It was time to involve the police, whether I was suspected of arson or not. I successfully crossed four blocks. At every other house, I would duck next to a fence and listen. No noise. No cars. No shouting. Nothing. My progress was exhausting, and after I had crossed those four blocks, I decided to start knocking. Only one house in sight had its porch light on. I crossed the street quickly and stepped over the front gate. "Michael," a figure said, running down the street. Even with the mask, I recognized Andrew’s voice. Yes, he was wearing a mask just like the Halloween night when they broke in. I’ve asked them about the masks, wondering why they bother. The masks are there to hide their identities from the psychos, not from me. I know some of you will be suspicious and think he was coming from Reggie’s house, but he was running towards the house, not away. "Andrew," I said, my plan to call the police forgotten. I should have called. I should have called, damn it. "I found Michael," Andrew said into his bluetooth. "What happened? Are you hurt?" He said, meeting me at the front gate. I stepped over it and met up with him. "I'm fine. I jumped out the window," I said. Andrew knelt down in front of me and lifted my shirt. I looked down. It was drenched in blood. "Damn glass again," I explained. "Must have been on the window sill." "Where's Reggie?" Andrew asked. "Back at the house. I heard him screaming as I left," I said. "You left him behind?" "He was hysterical," I replied. "Jason just hung up on us and I couldn't wait any longer." "Everyone is spiraling in from all directions, honing in on Reggie's house. Jason's telling me to get you back to the our house. Let's go," he said. With that, we jogged away from Reggie's house. "What's... everyone... else... going... to... do...?" I said between heavy breathing. "Worry about yourself," Andrew replied. After a few minutes, Andrew suddenly stopped. He put his hand to his ear and listened. I took longer to stop and turned back to him. His face went pale. "Tyler's been shot," he said. "Stay put." Then he blitzed down the asphalt toward Reggie's house. If I hadn't been so out of breath and completely terrified, I probably would have chased after Andrew. Instead, I sat down under a street light and tried to catch my breath. I know I was under the streetlight for less than 20 minutes, but it felt like hours. The darkness started to scare me. I've never been scared of the dark before. But, as you can understand, I was shaken up. The street light formed a circle of light around me, but anything beyond that was invisible. A car passed an intersection a little ways down the road. Instead of trying to hail it, I shrunk back. I began to regret not chasing after Andrew. It felt like things were moving all around me. I stood up and ran out of the reach of the streetlight. I stopped by a fence post and looked around. My muscles all jolted when I turned around to find a man standing under the streetlight. "Evening, Michael," the man called out. "Your sixth sense is incredibly sharp. Bravo." "Who the hell are you?" I shouted, trying to hide my terror. "Not so loud, you'll wake the neighbors," the man said, slowly pacing towards me. He didn't seem concerned in the least about the neighbors. "What do you want?" I said, lowering my voice as he drew closer. I took a few involuntary steps backward. The man was bald and at least six feet tall. His face was ageless and I don't think I could have guessed his age within a decade. "I’m John. I’m here to thank you for your help," he said. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his black eyes. "Thank you for delivering Jason and the others to us. We couldn't have done it without you." "I don't see why you would need me," I said. I wondered if he had actually caught the others or if he was just confident they’d be dead soon at Reggie’s. "Let me tell you a story," John said. "Once upon a time, there was a man who was very lonely. No one would start a family with him, and the adoption centers spat in his face. Once day, he makes a plan. He decides that the only way to have a child is to steal one. Now, this is a grievous crime," he frowned, but his eyes smiled. "Nevertheless, this man decides to pursue his dream. After all, doesn't everyone deserve to achieve their dreams? "So, after doing a lot of research on how to carry out this act, he finds a group of others like him. Other people who decided that they wanted to raise their own children. This man is completely ecstatic. Here were people who he could confide in and trust. They took him in and taught him all about their methods and techniques. "This man finds himself right at home among a new family. They induct him by helping him bring in and raise his first child. "Years later, he's raised many children. He's also helped others get started and invited more people like him to join. Can you imagine how happy his life was?" I swallowed. He'd stopped approaching and was now three feet away. I didn't dare move in case he took it as a reason to lunge. "One day, however, during a very well thought out and perfectly executed plan, the man's dear friend is killed. Murdered. Incidentallyt, it was the very man that had introduced him to the group. Who murdered him? His own children. "The man, who is me, by the way, was completely enraged. How dare they fight against their father? How dare they kill him when all he wanted was to make them successful? That's when I decided that their lives were mine to avenge. I wasn't the only one who felt that way. Another one of my family members, who I believe you know, shared my conviction. We spent months studying them. They’ve killed a couple other members that I don’t know, and I used those events to study them. "Well, it took us months to find them. I won't bore you with the details, it would take too long to explain our methodology. Despite all the data we had available, the only narrowing we could do was down to these three adjacent states. "Instead of walking around the streets looking for them, we decided that flies are easier attracted than hunted. So I made a brilliant plan. And, even better, it involved one of my own children." "You?" I said. "You're the one who kidnapped my daughter?" "I don't believe the statute of limitations has run out yet, but yes. I did. And she played her part quite nicely in the plan. So did you, I should add. I studied you almost as extensively as the others. Though with you there was significantly less substance. Your therapy journals were instrumental in helping me understand what makes you tick,” he grinned. I swallowed. He’d been in my house long before Halloween. “Where we are right now couldn't have happened without the two of you. My friends are rounding up those bastard children, and I'm here now to reward you for your efforts." "Reward me?" I said, stepping backward. "You can come out now," he said over his shoulder. Someone came out of the yard behind him. As they came into the light, my heart exploded. Lucy. Fourteen, tall, blank stare, but definitely Lucy. "Here she is," he said, gesturing to her as if he were showing off a new poster. "Not a scratch on her. Well, physically anyway." I moved forward to hug Lucy, but John stepped in front of me, fast as a lizard. "Not yet. First, I need the address where the bastards are living. Torturing them won't get me the address. They'll resist." "Why do you need the address?" I asked. John laughed and I flinched. Up close, he was even more terrifying. "Guess I'm used to people on my level," he half apologized. "The bastards still have Harry somewhere. I would have followed you from your home to theirs, but you left before anyone had a chance to check up on you after Halloween. So, now we get to trade. You get your daughter back in exchange for the address." I hesitated. Something didn't feel right. His comment about my sixth sense came to mind. Maybe I should trust it. But if I didn't give him the address, torture was a likely next step. He'd get the address no matter what. "Quickly now," he said. "I have some revenge to give." "No," I said. John's face slipped for only a second. He stepped forward, grabbing my shirt collar. He pulled my face so close to his that our noses touched. One of his fingernails tapped on my throat. My heart felt like it would give out. "No... what?" "No I won't give it to you," I said. "Why not? Your daughter is right here. Just give me the address, and you can both go home safe and alive. Why wouldn’t you give me the address?" "Because it's unpredictable. And unpredictability is something to fear," I said. Or rather, that's the phrase I came up with long after the ordeal. I actually didn't get to reply at all, because two gunshots went off. John's eyes went wide and he stumbled forward into me. I had to move back to keep from tipping over. I grabbed his wrist, and pried his grip off my shirt. Moving around him, I grabbed Lucy and pulled her down to the sidewalk, huddling against the fence. John fell to his knees, a large splotch of blood quickly growing across his chest. I looked around and saw Andrew standing only a few feet behind John. "I remember you," Andrew said, his voice dark. John half turned his head. "You visited James. You saw us there and you did nothing." John turned his head the other way and looked at me. Andrew pulled the trigger three more times, and John collapsed in the street, his eyes tracking my body as he fell. I couldn’t close my eyes. My gaze was locked on his as I saw the life leave his face. "Let's go," Andrew said, running over to us. "Get up, let's go. Someone's gotta be calling the police." Lucy followed along when I pulled her to her feet. Her face was still blank, but she was alive. She tagged along as we followed Andrew through the dark streets. When we got back to the house, the first thing I saw was a bloody handprint on the front door. "Holy shit," I whispered. "They had guns," Andrew replied, opening the door. "Hurry before someone sees." We rushed inside and down the hall to the main room. Tyler was lying on the couch and Rachel was hovering over him, pressing down on his stomach. "Why the hell isn't he at the hospital?" I yelled. "I already have a contact on the way," Evan said as he passed me. He brought an armful of towels over to Rachel. "Everyone's okay?" I asked in disbelief. "For the time being," Jason said from another couch. He was holding towels over his thigh and a tourniquet was wrapped around his upper thigh. "John, he told me that you were already dead," I rushed. "You saw John?" Jason asked, leaning forward. He turned to Andrew. "What happened?" Then his eyes landed on Lucy. "Oh my God," he said. Rachel looked up in surprise. "Son of a bitch," Tyler groaned through gritted teeth. He was probably complaining about his wound and not reacting to Lucy. "What happened?" Jason asked again. "John's dead," Andrew said. "I'll tell you later, but let's get the bleeding stopped first. Evan, how far away is your contact?" A quiet knock at the back window answered his question. I was given a towel to tie around my waist where the glass had cut me. I was told that the wound was superficial and that I didn’t need stitches. The second I sat on the couch with Lucy at my side, I fell asleep. I was utterly exhausted, as you can imagine. I woke up hours later with a kink in my neck and Lucy gone. "Lucy??" I started, standing up. "Lucy?!" "In here," Jason called. I strode into the kitchen and found Jason limping around, making sandwiches. Lucy was seated at the kitchen table, staring into space. "Jason, for God's sake, sit down," I said. I snatched the peanut butter and jam out of his hands, and he pulled a chair up from the kitchen. As I spread peanut butter on the twenty pieces of bread laid out on the counter, Jason spoke to me. "What happened with John?" He asked. "Andrew arrived and shot him. He said it looked like you two were talking." "He told me I could have Lucy back if I gave him your address," I told him. "He lied and told me you were all captured at Reggie's house and..." I stopped. Reggie. "What did you tell him?" Jason asked. "I told him to go to hell," I said with a slight smile. The smile was short lived. "How's Reggie?" I asked guiltily. "Dead," Jason muttered. My heart sank and I closed my eyes. "He was dead before we got there." "It's all my fault," I said. Stereotypical, I know. "No, it's their fault. They attacked you. You got away, be grateful for that." "What happened to all of you?" I asked. "Tyler barrelled in like a dumbass, guns a-blazing and got shot in the gut. Rachel and I hung back and exchanged fire with them. John only brought two other psychos with him. I expected more. When Andrew arrived, it was already over. He ran back to get you and saved your ass." “You guys do a lot of running,” I commented. “Nothing we haven’t trained for,” he replied. "You had guns?" I asked. "Yeah... did you think we hunted psychos without guns? They're dangerous enough from a distance. I don't need to get any closer." "What's going to happen now? The police will be all over the place." "We already cleaned up the blood leading to the house as best we can. Evan's on security duty and will warn us if anyone shows up. We have a safe-house in the mountains we can retreat to." "And Tyler?" "Tyler's going to be fine, at least that's what the medic says." "How do we know that the medic won't rat you out?" I asked. "Evan has lots of online connections," Jason replied. "I fully trust his judgement. He's capable. I trust all of them." "And what about Harry?" I asked. "He was dead the day we picked you up." My eyes widened. "What?! Did you kill him?!" "No," was all Jason said. I kept asking, but he stonewalled me. I eventually gave up. "What did he do to Lucy?" I asked. Jason glanced at her. She was still staring into space. "I don't know." "What did they do to you when they had you?" I asked boldly. Jason's expression hardened into anger, then reverted back. "Doesn't matter. Every kid gets a different treatment." "What the hell does that mean?" I asked. "John and James, along with others, were interested in seeing how children would develop when placed in different situations and settings. John and James both raised a few 'generations' before us. My 'generation' was raised in an old library. James always reminded us how lucky our generation was..." he trailed off, jaw clenching. "She could have been subjected to anything during her time," Jason said finally. "She will never again be the little girl you raised." I remember looking at her with new eyes. I'd have to approach her in a totally different way now. "I have no idea what I'm doing," I said. "Neither did we," Jason chuckled. "But we're figuring it out. And you will too." Jason and I talked for a while longer after that, but I am not including that conversation at his request. I've spoken with him late last night about these posts and he asked me to not publish the conversation. But it was during these conversations that Jason revealed to me a lot more about what they plan to do, and what happened to them while they were kidnapped. It's also when he confessed to me that he killed James with his bare hands. If he feels like sharing that story online, I'll let him do it. One of you asked if I would share the ages of all 9 who were kidnapped, so I'll do that here. In order of who was kidnapped first:
Jason - Kidnapped at 9, released at 20
Evan - Kidnapped at 11, released at 21
Tyler - Kidnapped at 11, released at 20
Amanda - Kidnapped at 13, released at 21
Mandie - Kidnapped at Unknown, released at 19
Shayma - Kidnapped at 14, released at 21
Emily - Kidnapped at 15, released at 20
Andrew - Kidnapped at 17, released at 22
Rachel - Kidnapped at 16, released at 20
Let me give a type of prologue now and try to close up all the gaps. I stayed with Jason at his home for a few months while everything died down. The news treated the shootout at Reggie’s place as a gang-related incident. Drugs had been found in Reggie’s place along with his body. I’m ashamed that Jason put the drugs there. I know why he did it, but it felt wrong. Despite that, during that time, I became a lot closer with all of them and learned more about everyone. While I stayed with them, I got to see a lot more into how they functioned as a team. They all wake up every day really early and train for hours. They have a list of tasks and tests they have to pass off every day. Jason keeps score for everyone and made it into a game where they compete. Remember the calendar I found in Jason’s room? Evan has a digital version everyone else relies on, but Jason likes to have his in his room. Let me tell you something. I have never seen any people more dedicated than them. They put more effort into running a mile or picking a lock or firing a gun than I see most people put into any aspect of their lives. It’s made me realize how casual I am. I’ve started my own schedule to work on myself as a result. It makes a stark difference. Jason approached me one day and told me his schedule for getting me out on my own with Lucy. He told me he was going to get the arson charges taken care of, and I doubted him a lot. One day he came to me and said the arson charges were all resolved. When I pressed him for details, he stonewalled. I went online to see if I could find any clues, and all references to the arson weren’t online anymore. I don’t know what that meant since deleting a news story was hardly a way to erase a criminal charge. Even today, no one will tell me what they did about the charges. Today, I think very highly of the psycho-hunters. I know how controlling Jason is, but the others tolerate it because it helps them function effectively. Jason is dead set on finding all of the psychos in that organization and killing them. Andrew has confided in me that Jason sometimes acts like James and it scares everyone. After all, he was locked up with James longer than anyone. Jason, if you’re reading this, sorry. Talk to the others about it. Even though I think highly of them, there are still secrets that they won’t share, and it worries me. I’ve asked them thousands of times what happened to the other kids that Lucy must have been with. They refuse to answer or say they don’t know. But their answers are consistent, which means they must know something. They also refuse to tell me how they handled Harry’s body or how his family or work will ever find out what happened. Jason doesn’t seem to give a shit. He still won’t tell me how Harry died. I asked if he ever found out what Harry was looking for in Lucy’s room, and he said they still had no idea. After the confrontation with John, we all suspect that the break in was just a ruse to lure the psycho-hunters out of hiding. I’ve talked with them to try and figure out how the psychos found me at Reggie’s place. We’ve tossed it around, but we have no evidence to back up any theories. Here are some of our theories:
By pure chance, one of the three psychos saw me at the store when I went with Reggie.
They snooped on Evan’s online conversation with Reggie about the arrangement.
They saw me in the car driving past and followed me.
Someone in the store saw me, recognized me for the arson charges and called the police. The psychos then knew about my general location based on police radio chatter.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep and my thoughts are whirling, I wonder if I was the honeypot. I wonder if they tipped the psychos off to exactly where I was and waited for them to act. I have no evidence, and I don’t want to believe it, but it makes sense. Lucy and I moved to a new town in February, but denied needing new identities. I have Jason on speed dial just in case, but Evan is using his talents to build a story in their forums that John never met me, and that Lucy escaped after he died. Just like Jason, I'm very confident in him. I've gotten to know him better than I've been able to express in these stories, and he's been encouraging me while I write all this. Once Lucy and I had settled somewhere, I got her into intensive therapy. She still gets blank moments where she'll just stare into space, but she's starting to interact more with her environment. She moves and can listen to me when I talk, but has yet to say anything. At night, she screams. It's still very frequent, and it terrifies me every time. It'll wake me up and I'll be afraid that another psychopath has broken in and is after her. Nearly every night is a terrifying experience for both of us. If I’m not awake taking care of Lucy, my nights are plagued with dreams about John being shot right in front of me. There are thousands of variations. Andrew misses and hits Lucy. Andrew misses John and he chokes me. John grabs the gun and shoots all three of us. John is shot and falls to the ground, only to get back up and crawl after me. The nightmares are fading, but only slightly. It’s harder because I can’t talk to a therapist about what happened. I know conversations are supposed to be confidential, but I don’t know if they’ll find a reason to go to the police. Posting this series will hopefully help me as some kind of advanced version of a therapy journal. You guys have made me smile so much these past few days, and I really appreciate it. When I can’t sleep, and Lucy panics non-stop, sometimes Andrew comes to our house and stays. I’m closest with him, and he’s become a friend. I don’t see him that often because I’ve moved quite a distance away from Jason’s house, but he drives down occasionally and stays over. His presence helps me sleep because all he does is stay up and watch the house. Jason approves of him coming down just in case any psychos found me and are stalking my house. Right now, we've been living off of welfare, some occasional contract work as a welder, and a few helpful checks from Jason. One of you commented and wondered how Jason and the psycho-hunters were financed. After they all escaped and James went to prison, Jason and Rachel saved up and bought a gym franchise together. They keep expanding it as a way to finance their psycho-hunting. Apparently it's a very motivating reason to build their businesses. They've offered me a job managing one of their gyms, but I don't live anywhere near one. Maybe one day I will if they open one close to me. Once Lucy is able to take care of herself again, I'll go back to work full time. I haven't decided what I'll do, though. Probably not welding unless I have to for the money. Anyway, once again, the reason I've shared this story is as a warning about psychopaths. Many of you have argued the meaning of the term psychopath, or whether the people I've encountered are sociopaths or psychopaths. I'm not here to say who's right or wrong, I'm just here to warn you that they're out there. They support each other, provide alibis for crimes, finance each other's fantasies, and pretend they own the world and everyone in it. Be aware of your surroundings and who you interact with. Psychopathy by itself and their lack of empathy and limited emotional responses are not, by themselves, dangerous. But just like anything with teeth and claws can be dangerous, so can psychopaths. -Michael Morris
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