Holed Up

The first thing I’ll tell you is that you’re doing everything wrong. Leaving your mother and I snowbound in this freezing mansion is not going to protect us from our many enemies- it only gives them a convenient barrel to shoot us in. Sure, none of them know where we are now but it’s only a matter of time. Your mother stares out the frosted window every morning across the dunes of snow- she’s waiting for them!

Why didn’t you pick a warmer climate for us? We’ll both be frozen solid even if they don’t find us. You could have picked an area with a lot of people- they don’t strike when there are a lot of people around! Or someplace consecrated. This creaky mansion is not holy- I can feel the bad things that have happened here. I have nightmares! Your mother does too. We both wake up screaming and open our eyes and we’re still in this old house.

I really don’t think there’s enough food in the cellar for the whole winter either. We’ve gone through a good portion of the game and it’s still only November. If you want us both to lose weight you’re doing a good job. If they don’t get us we’ll die of hunger first.

And a terrible selection of DVDs. Nothing heartwarming in the whole lot. Your mother plays the piano all day- thank God for that- although it’s not your doing, the piano came with the house.

If you had put us in Florida I would have been fine. Anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon line. They wouldn’t find us. And if they did there would be people around. If your plan was to drive both of us stir crazy you’re doing a good job.

What are we going to do if they get wind of our whereabouts? Where can we go? Nowhere. We’ll have to battle it out and you know how weak your mother is these days. She couldn’t pound a stake into anyone. And I have one box of silver bullets- how is that going to be enough? What if all of them come at once?

Every waking minute they’re plotting a way to find us and get their revenge. That’s all they’re thinking about. While you’re off with that girl in the South Seas. Who cares about a sea dragon? Armies of the undead have a death warrant out for your mother and I and you’re chasing dragons with that tart.

Your mother’s asleep beside me as I’m emailing this and I just heard something downstairs. You’d better pray it’s just the house settling. I’m going down there with some crosses and a stake and leaving the gun with your mother. If you don’t hear back from me again tonight that’s bad news for you– they’ll be after you next…

-Dad

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