Chapter One - Family Reunion

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Have you ever been so excited to kill something that you can practically taste its blood?

    That's what I'm feeling right now.

    And it's wonderful.

I've been hunting this nest of vampires for almost five years now. And all it's been before today was a lot of false information, wild goose chases, and a whole lot of damn frustration.

    But now, I've got them.

A hunter I met up with in a bar a few miles back by the name of Kennedy Brown tipped me off that they were here. I had followed several leads to get here, but having that confirmation from another hunter really helped to solidify that I wasn't losing or chasing my own tail. Again.

I check in my rearview mirror to make sure I look professional before grabbing my badge. I open the door of my blue 1954 VW Beetle and the cold March wind hits my face. I walk with confidence as I approach the officer guarding the crime scene tape. I've come to learn that the trick to making sure no one asks any questions is to act like you belong.

    "Agent McLean, FBI. Can you point me to who's in charge here?" I say with a monotone voice as I flash my badge.

    "Yes, ma'am. Sheriff Buck is inside."

I nod in thanks as he lifts the crime scene tape and lets me through.

See? If you look and act like you belong, nobody thinks twice.

    Haha. Suckers.

I walk up the sidewalk towards the open front door as I begin to take in just how pretty the house is. Two stories, white picket fence, red door, lots of flowers. Total cookie-cutter house. Very... normal.

    Normal.

I had normal once, and I'd give anything to go back to that. But I can't. And I'll never have that again. So the least I can do is destroy the sons of bitches who took that away from me. I know it won't change anything, or bring Mom back, but I don't think I'll be able to move on until I do.

    "Sheriff Buck?'' I ask, spotting the round man in the living room wearing a sheriff's hat.

The inside of the house is beautiful too, minus the giant puddle of blood on the living room floor that the Sheriff is staring at.

    "Yes, ma'am,"

This "ma'am" thing is freaking me out. Usually it's, "Aren't you a little young to be FBI?".

    "And who might you be?"

    "Agent McLean, FBI." I say, showing my badge before putting it back in my suit jacket.

    "With all due respect, Agent, why would they send the feds all the way out here for a missing person?"

    "We're following every possible lead on a similar case a few towns over. What can you tell me so far, Sheriff?'' I say looking around the living room.

    "Well, Charles Westley and his wife Rosa lived here and were last seen two days ago as they were getting back from an anniversary date. Witness says they seemed happy and normal,"

There's that word again.

    "Neighbor came over this morning to bring a casserole as an anniversary present, but no one answered the door. When she looked inside the window, this is all she saw." He says, gesturing to the puddle of blood.

    "So, there was no body?"

    "Nope. But forensics confirmed that's Charles' blood."

I nod, trying to hide the excitement bubbling inside me.

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