Kenya Moss-Dyme

I never asked for a younger brother. The house smelled different after he arrived—like rot tucked into the seam of the sofa. That backpack made my skin crawl: dead rabbits, a squirrel I’d watched get flattened, a kid who could make animals move and men step backward into traffic. 

They called Leo weird. I called him dangerous.

Dad called it adoption and healing. Mom called it grace. I called it trouble. 

But when my mother found the journal hidden in his bag, everything changed—her discovery didn’t just hurt our family; it killed her. After that, the rules of the house shifted. Monsters started wearing familiar faces, and the man who’d taught me to trust therapists began to show his true face—hollowed, horned, and hungry. 

If you think monsters live outside town, you haven’t seen what a child can raise in his basement.

Told up close and uneasy, this is the story of a brother who won’t let you sleep. When secrets, grief, and ancient devotion collide, a suburban home becomes the breeding ground for horror.

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