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The Journals of Raymond Brooks 13
a deep breath, trying to maintain concentration despite the
throbbing migraine and she wondered; would she get to finish

the tale, or would she die here, tonight, being interviewed by
the media. It was something she’d longed to do for decades
now; tell the truth. In the end, she knew, this interviewer would
be left with a terrible choice; a burden few could handle.

Not long ago my stepfather died, and on that day Benny
approached our house carefully, avoiding dry leaves and twigs
carefully with his feet, as he’d been trained. Covering his army
gear, wore black camouflage trousers, a shirt and a long coat.
It was the middle of the night, and everyone had retired to the

safety of their homes. They did not realize that we, my stepfather
and I, had made our home amongst them, pretending to be
human. The settlement which my father chose to call home
was nested in a secluded location, far from any major city.
Small houses and caravans coexisted amongst a natural forest
which predated the settlement. Raymond, my stepfather had
loved the countryside settings while I … I loved Raymond, and
so chose to share his home before my own demise.
As far as the killer of my father was concerned, this was the

ideal place for monsters to make their home. As he made his
way to our home, his heart raced, pounding in his ears. He felt
alive now for the first time since his brother died. The freezing
November wind, and even the heavy fog, hindering sight, and