Bloodline

One

'You're one insult away from starting a war. You're one decision away from an entirely different situation. The foundation of everything is based on impulses and underdeveloped thoughts. For the most part anyway.'

My eyes flutter shut as my ears slowly tune out the TED talk playing through my headphones. The train moves steadily and quickly towards my temporary new home in Cornwall. I've been researching and planning my stay with this family for around six months now, their odd story fascinates me and I need a new story to publish in time for my publishers deadline. Superstition runs deep in the town's roots, I'm a skeptic myself mainly,but it makes the stay all the more interesting I suppose. The house has some rumors attached to it, some say it houses vampires, others believe it breeds suicidal thoughts and tendencies, whereas most believe the house is simply just that- a house. It's in a secluded area, neighboring the forest and it's a long walk away from town. A perfect setting for a murder- though death tends to skip me, or spare me as my therapist says, so some could say I'm lucky.

The train stutters as it slows down. I sling my bag across my shoulder, walking towards the doors to get off at the next stop. My pre-booked cab should be just outside the station ready to take me to the house, since it's on a cliff side and buses don't go that route for safety concerns. The doors slide open and I step onto the platform, wind immediately slamming into my face, welcoming me to the foreign place. I press my lips together tightly and speed-walk to the front side of the train station to find my cab- odds in my favor the station is essentially empty making it easy and quick to find my way out. Bouncing up the stairs of the bridge-way to get to the other side of the platform which should be connected to the entrance, I cling to the banister for support as I almost fall down the steep steps.

"Sorry." I blurt, profusely apologising to the person that just walked into me.

They stop dead in their tracks. I stiffen. They turn to face me, approaching me slowly. I take a step back and nervously chuckle as they stop right in front of me and bend down to my eye level.

"You can see me?"

It's late so the only light source available are the unreliable flickering station lights on the ceiling, but it's enough light to make out that this person looks sickly. There aren't any harsh lines on his face, I assume he's fairly young, my age maybe. His hair is well groomed but a tatty, brown color. I give him a weird look, apologize once more and turn on my heel away from him. He appears before me again, making me stumble into him this time.

"Hey! -' I begin, but I'm cut off.

"Who are you?" He asks firmly.

Feeling creeped out, I swerve around him and continue on my way with him close by in my peripheral. I try speeding up but his long legs catch up to mine with ease. There's no one around to ask for help, so my best bet is to find my cab and get the hell away from this man as quickly as possible. Finally I manage to escape, my shoulder pushing the door open as I jog towards a cab nearby. The driver waves at me politely. I flash a quick smile before rushing into the backseat to shelter myself from the abrupt shower of rain. The driver strikes up a conversation.

"Hello, or good evening- whichever you prefer. How was your train journey?" The man asks, his eyes kind in the rear view mirror.

"Fine, thank you." I reply, not eager to have a conversation.

"Well then, where am I taking you?" He smiles.

"617 Oak Lane please."

The driver's face drains of blood and his smile dissolves. His mouth falters before trying to replace the once genuine smile.

"I see. The driver you had originally booked fell ill so I stood in for him not knowing... Any particular reason you're venturing out to that place?" He stutters reversing out of the parking space. I shrug.