Samantha, if you’re reading this…well, we know how that line goes. I hope I died of natural causes at a ripe old age and you are happy, safe, and surrounded by a large family that loves you as much as I do. But…if this is ever delivered to you, then however happy and full your life may be, you are not safe. Because you receiving this letter can mean only one thing.

The Stranger is still hunting us.

I never got along with your Aunt Becky, even before your mother died, but I don’t think she is a bad person. If I was in her shoes, and my fourteen-year old niece was being raised to defend themselves against some unknown boogeyman, I might try to get custody too. And at the time, I didn’t fight it very hard. Not because I didn’t want you—no, never that. But after watching for the Stranger for years, I was tired, and I convinced myself you’d be safer far away from me. It would give you a break from my constant paranoia and give me a chance to try to finally end this thing without worrying about you getting hurt in the process.

The problem is, I failed. If you’re reading this letter, I never figured out how to stop the Stranger from coming back and either it or the world wound up eventually killing me. And if that’s true, then it means that I’ve failed you too. All I can leave you are some final words of advice in a dead man’s letter, and for that I’m very sorry.

I do hope this letter will be of some use though. It will give you something tangible to look back on when I’m nothing but a memory. Because you cannot afford to ever forget or trick yourself into thinking this was all just something your crazy father made up when he was alive. I don’t think you’d ever do that though, so the last reason is this.

You can’t ever let yourself think it’s over. Because it is never, ever over. It always comes back.

I know I tried to act hopeful when you were younger, but that was a father leavening the truth with a bit of mercy and optimism. Rounding off the rough-edges. But a rough edge can kill you, and the time for treating you like a child is past. So from here on out, you only get what I know, not what I hope or wish were true.