Interlude

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Read at your own risk

If you want to read something cheerful and eventful and very, very, cliché you're in the wrong place. Put this book down and don't read past this interlude. This isn't one of those interludes that try to scare the hell out of you or try to keep you reading. This is the interlude that truthfully wants you to think about what you are reading.

See the thing is, the more you know, the more likely you'll be targeted. The more you know puts you at risk of your health, your family's health, and your life entirely. Why would you put out a book that could devastate the lives of others? Because someone had too. Someone had to exhale this information to the public eye. It's rested in the bottom of unsolved cases in your local police department for too long or strayed out on the other end of frantic phone calls that ended silently for decades. It has always been there waiting on the tip of everyone's tongues for decades, centuries, millennia's now, but this is it: The unburied secrecy. It might not be what you wanted, but this is it. This is as close as it gets and as truthful as it gets. No sugar coating or based for an audience scriptures, this is true. Believe it or not, it's yours to decide.

This isn't my story. If it was do you really think I'd be here to tell it? I told you this wasn't a cheerful story. All the names in this story have been changed for my own personal safety. I put this story together after finding the detailed diary entries of a pair of journals I recovered in the middle of nowhere. All of these events happened, all these conversations happened, all of the setting was real. I didn't let my creative mind put down false things for an audience. I put down what they wrote. I don't know how long I'll be around. I sense him all around me. He might even be watching me type this. I try to stay moving a lot, because if there is one thing to remember it's never look back.

Whatever you do don't look back. Don't glance behind you.


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