I'm not really in the mood for writing but Dicky reckons it'll stop me from going stir-crazy if I keep this journal updated.
It's been over two weeks since we were attacked by the Nightmare People and we still haven't heard from Emily or Harrison. I keep checking this site, every hour or so, but Dicky seems to think it's a waste of time. If the Nightmare People did get to them, there's a good chance that Emily is being experimented on and that Harrison is dead. They need Emily, that much is obvious, but the rest of us are of no use to them.
We're being hounded because of what we know, it's as simple as that. Killing us is the simplest way of ensuring that we don't talk. That's why they killed our parents. I understand that now.
Dicky and I are hiding out in my father's old beach house. After Dicky's message on Monday, I scanned through my father's will and found that he had left the house to a T.S Holden. At first, I had no idea what that meant until I checked Dicky's parent's marriage certificate. Holden was Dicky's mother's maiden name and T.S Holden was the name of one of their witnesses. It didn't take me longer to figure out that the "T" in "T.S" probably stood for "Teddy", as in Dicky's Grandfather. Dicky's grandfather passed away a year back and, as it turns out, he left the house to Dicky.
There's no way that the Nightmare People can track us down, not without a copy of my father's will, but that doesn't mean that we're safe. ArthurMan, whoever he is, must know about this place and I'm not entirely sure that we can trust him, regardless of his touching sentiments in the previous message. As such, Dicky and I have decided to take it in turns keeping watch for anyone approaching the house. There's only one road leading down from the nearest town, an overgrown dirt track, and the whole stretch is visible from the guest bedroom window. Dicky is up there now, ready to alert me to the slightest hint of danger. We've also set up booby traps along the beach – well, Dicky has (not sure if they'll actually work, mind you).
But there's another reason why we're here, in this lonely, boring place - aside from the safety aspect, that is. This house was our parents secret hideout, as it turns out. So secret, in fact, that they never told any of us about it. We've already found so many clues here that might help us figure out what's going on. The dining room is full of maps, most of which seem to be German, and the living room is stocked full of old, dusty books, all of them on the subject of the supernatural.
More interesting than any of that is Harrison's father's diary. I found it in the master bedroom, hidden behind a box of old silverware. I've been reading it over the past few days, to relieve my boredom more than anything, and whilst it started off being incredibly dull, it's starting to get fascinating. Here's an excerpt from the last page that I read.
July 12th 1985
It's great to be back here, back by the ocean and back together. I look forward to the summer more and more as the years roll by, not only because of the time off work but also because, these days, it seems that the only time I ever get to see Richard (Dicky's father) and John (my father) is during our annual excursion to the old fishing house. We're always so busy these days, the three of us. We're getting old and responsibly is always knocking on our doors. Richard has brought Annie (I don't know who that is) with him and she's a pleasure as always. She cooked us a fine meal last night, the kind of meal described with fancy words. This morning, the three of us went out to pretend to fish and John told us all about his new business venture. He claims that it'll make him a fortune (but then, he also claims that Annie has the hot's for him, so what does he know?). Tonight, we sang old songs around the fire and John drank far too much. He passed out on the beach and we left him there to get over it. Just like the good old days. God, I love this place.
July 13th 1985
John's missing. At first we assumed that he had gone up to town to get some breakfast to cure his hangover but after a few hours, we thought it best that we go looking for him. I searched the beach for hours while Annie and Richard checked the road up to town. I suspect that the stupid son-of-a-bitch went up to the tavern for a few more drinks and passed out again on his way home. Annie got awfully worried but I assured her that John quite often wandered off when the mood to do so took him. I'm sure he'll be back by morning. He'll wake up in a hedge somewhere with a terrible hangover and stumble back here for a shower, when he's good and ready.
Finding this old diary is the only good thing that has come from having to be here. It's fun to read about what our parents were like when they were our age.
Right, I'd best be off. I'm on watch from midnight until six, which gives me just enough time to upload this, have a shower and grab something to eat before Dicky and I switch places. We've set up a bed near the backdoor, in case we have to make a quick exit, and agreed that it's best for whoever's not on watch to stay in the living room, so that they can hear the alarm call and gather up all our supplies in a hurry.
I hope Emily and Harrison are just two busy staying on the move to get to a computer. Wherever they are, I can't imagine they're having much fun. There's a full moon out there tonight and if Emily is what Dicky thinks she is, she's likely to get herself into all kinds of trouble. Not to mention having the Nightmare People on her trail.
I have no idea what Dicky's long term plan is, he's running the shots – not me, but we can't just hide in this beach house forever.
I'll try to upload a journal entry every day, if I can, and I'll carry on reading this diary, uploading anything interesting that I find in it.
Emily, Harrison, if you're reading this, we're safe. And you know where to find us.
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