[Information taken from Creepypasta Case File #008593445. The following document was taken from a diary belonging to a man in 1803.]
16 September, 1803
I sit in a wagon driven by a merchant who has offered to take me and my sons west across this new land they are naming America.
I am at a lost of what to do. I doubt that there is something I could do.
My eldest son, Kito, is . . . ill. There is no other way to put it.
My wife and I found Kito as a baby in a basket on the corner of one of England's streets. Due to his black skin color, we figured he was a child of a slave and the owners did not want to keep the baby. My wife and I agreed that it was cruel to leave a newborn on the streets so we adopted him. Not to mention the fact that my wife had always wanted a child.
Kito was three years of age when Carla gave birth to Charles, though she sadly died in the process. Despite only being three, Kito was the best child I could have asked for. He looked after Charles as they grew up, and he never caused problems unlike Charles, though I did not blame him. He was a child after all.
Charles is ten years now. Kito is thirteen. He turned thirteen five months ago. That was also when he claimed that a woman who called herself his Mother was standing outside his window, calling to him.
When I asked what her real name was, Kito told me the next day that it was Madresta. He says that she's about seven feet tall, with a skinny white body, no eyes, no nose, no hair, only a mouth on her head along with white horns protruding from the sides. He said that she wore a plain pitch black dress.
When I mentioned it to my colleagues they told me that Madresta was considered the Mother of Monsters. If she was after my son, telling him to call her Mother . . . That he was a monster. That I should contact the Van Helsings, the local monster hunters.
I did not want to believe them. But Kito is starting to transform. The veins in his eyes are turning black, the rim of his irises have turned red, and knobs are beginning to appear in his black curls. I have decided that if Madresta continues to come after him and he continues to transform . . . I will have no other choice but to tell the villagers that we live with what he is and leave him to their mercy.
[There were no other entries after that one except for this one which is to be believed from Kito. Dried blood had stained the original pages.]
I can not believe Papa was going to let me die.
Mother was right.
Papa is dead now anyways, so I guess it does not matter anymore.
Mother made me kill him. Well, actually, part of me wanted to kill him. Mother would say that is because of the demon in me. Truthfully, he did taste better than anything I had ever tasted before and I have never felt so strong.
Mother told me to write what happened down while she took Charlie to the lake to turn him into one of us. I am glad she did not make me kill him. I love Charlie and now he gets to have a mother as do I. We get to be a family again.
Maybe that is why Mama wants me to write this down. So people will be less afraid of us. Papa was going to kill me because I was a monster, but he had hesitated because he knew that I was not a bad one. We are not bad people like everybody thinks. We have feelings just like everyone else.
Charlie and Mama have returned. I will have to go. I know Charlie is going to want to play a game.