It was the dead of night, and Ridge Manor was as silent as a forgotten tomb.
Well, that was the case...
A sharp, crisp knocking woke 15 year old Blake Ridges up from his, to be quite frank restless sleep. Blake was quite glad for the distraction and slowly padded down the silk steps to reach his location.
Now that he thought of it, it seemed rather strange for someone to show up unannounced at exactly 3pm.
But Blake didn't think much of it.
A second knock, this time much louder, broke him out of his reverie and he rushed to answer the door.
He opened the door to see a strange boy, about the same age as him with deep, blue sunken eyes and a slouched figure, sporting a shirt that advertised some drink Blake probably never had heard of.
The mysterious boy looked like he hadn't eaten at all for the past week and looked as if he would drop-dead from exhaustion any second.
Coupled with his dirty blonde hair and his unusually tall height, he looked like a recipe for disaster.
Despite this, Blake felt a peculiar force guiding his actions and causing him to invite the boy in even though, deep down in his mind he knew it was wrong.
The boy walked over to meet with Blake, stooping underneath the doorway to avoid banging his head in a rather nasty way.
But all of a sudden the young boy shifted in and out like a ghost, and in his place was a thing, straight out from a storybook.
Fangs dripping from its terrible mouth, covered in a strange, reddish liquid that Blake didn't want to even imagine where it came from.
A demonic build, sharp nails which looked deadly enough to cut steel easily, protruded from its long hands.
And then at once, Blake was hit with the realization.
This was no human, it was a vampire.
It bared its fangs and charged towards the dumb-struck Blake, all while emitting an incessant screeching noise.
The beast was about to collide with him when all of a sudden, Blake woke up.
***
BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP
It was just a dream, Blake tried to reassure himself, but it looked so vivid, so genuine, so real...
And the screeching noise was from his alarm clock, he found out. But despite all his efforts to reconcile his mind, it didn't work.
Thankfully, he had the day off from school today so he could spend the whole day mulling over with what he just experienced.
Blake decided to sleep for a couple more hours in hopes to get rid of the traumatic dream, so he closed his eyes and entered the realm of dreams yet again.
***
The police car, its sleek body adorned with bold blue and white markings, glided smoothly into the driveway of the grand manor.
The vehicle's lights cast a rotating wash of red and blue across the manicured lawns and stately façade.
As it rolled to a stop, the quiet hum of the engine faded, leaving an air of tense anticipation hanging in the cool evening air.
The car door opened with a deliberate creak, and a man stepped out, his polished shoes making a firm connection with the gravel driveway.
He stood tall, adjusting his uniform with barely contained excitement, the silver badge on his chest gleaming under the fading light.
His eyes, sharp and observant, scanned the manor's imposing exterior before settling on the front door.
With refined steps, he calmly approached the front door and knocked on its interior: one, two three times.
The door swung open, almost abruptly and the once enthusiastic officer came face to face with a grieving couple, ready to deliver the unbearable report.
They stood, their faces etched with a raw, unbearable grief. The mother clutched a crumpled tissue, her eyes red and swollen from relentless tears, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
The father, his expression a mask of anguish, held her close, his hand trembling on her back as he struggled to remain composed.
They faced the police officer, whose somber demeanor mirrored the gravity of the moment.
The detective spoke in hushed, respectful tones, his voice carrying the weight of the terrible news he had delivered, the kind of news no parent ever wants to hear...
The parents listened, their world shattered, each word deepening the chasm of their loss.
The evening air was heavy with sorrow, the quiet punctuated by the mother's muffled cries and the father's strained attempts at stoicism.
The detective's name was Noah Banks, a cadet just a few weeks out of Police academy, specialising in murder mystery.
This was his first real case inside his local station, and as to be expected was eager to prove himself.
The couple's names were Susan and John Ridges and until recently were parent to 15 year old Blake Ridges, the unfortunate victim.
From what Noah could find, Blake was described by most, if not all, of his teachers as "Intellectually proficient in most subjects".
The kid had a bright future but, sadly, that was immediately cut short when he was found with a knife sticking out from his back at the dead of night.
His parents who had heard some sort of scuffle went out to investigate but they would soon wish they hadn't.
From signs of the body, courtesy of the forensic department, there seemed to be a struggle where the victim was chocked unconscious (the marks on his throat) then stabbed ruthlessly in the back with full power after a certain period of time.
Noah could tell this was no amateur killer as he knew what he was doing as well as being a smidge sadistic, that or this was personal and Noah was betting on the latter, after all although he lacked experience Noah Banks was a superb detective in his own right.
But he lacked severe proof into finding and catching the killer and so he decided to leave this case to the professionals, and more experienced men, and only came here because he genuinely was sorry for what had happened to the boy.
The hysterical sobbing of Mr Ridges broke the aspiring detective out from his rather time consuming muse.
Seeing nothing that Noah could do for the couple, he did his best to console them and went straight on back to his car and headed to his flat that really seemed like paradise after the tense day he had just experienced.
As he pulled into the driveway, Noah felt tired although that would be like saying the ocean was wet.
His whole body ached with the stress of the job he had chosen as his lifelong career, but also something else: happiness.
With a relieved sigh, Noah trudged up the flight of stairs, put the key in his lock and with what little reserves of strength he had turned it and collapsed into the soft covers of the warm, welcoming interior of his flat greeting him.
---
( This is a new book I have just started so please don't criticise me too much about any spelling mistakes, and as always it would be much appreciated if you vote and comment on my book.
Bye and i'll see you in the next one)
YOU ARE READING
Twilight Dreams
ActionA detective in training, An unexplainable murder, A killer on the loose... *** Noah Banks has always been the sort to accept challenges, nobody was even mildly surprised when he turned out to choose detective as a profession. But this job is hard...
