Bloodlust

Officer

PC Dylan Jones sank down into the comfortable chair that was placed behind the grubby, dark brown desk in his office. In his hand was a profile of someone called "Victim 8". She was apparently an average 15 year old girl, with dark brown hair and blue eyes, who liked loud dance music and parties. She attended Redwood Comprehensive, the same as Sarah, Dylan's daughter. He had a slightly strained relationship with her, he had ever since her mother had died. Sarah had become quieter, no longer wanting to tell him anything. Dylan sighed, shaking his head to try and get himself to concentrate. His boss, PI Jenkins, had given him the profiles an hour ago, and had barked at him to "stop bloody daydreaming an' get to work". He still had no idea of what was going on. Dylan went through  the profiles, searching for any kind of connection. Victim 1, Kirsty Patel, a young girl whose family owned and ran the local newsagents. Victim 2, a boy called James Edmonds, the headmaster's son. Dylan remembered that a while ago, James had been found egging Pine Tree Crescent, the local old people's home. However, due to his father stepping in, he hadn't been punished. He sighed, rearranging the profiles on his desk. It was getting dark, and he was tired. A sudden blast of "Hit the Road, Jack" erupted from his pocket. Dylan quickly picked up his phone, checked the caller ID and recognised Sarah's number. Despite his hurry to jam his fingers on the right buttons -why did they have to be so ruddy small?- the call went straight to answerphone. He sighed again, but stopped sulking when he heard Sarah's voice through the phone's tinny speaker.

"Dad? Just wanted to say that I'm going somewhere with a few friends. Don't panic, I'll be fine. Me and the girls are going to see 'Sunrise: Return of the Sparkly Bloodsuckers'. You won't have heard of it, but it's meant to be really good. Well...Um...Bye." And with that, the message ended abruptly. The annoying pre-recorded voice told him that he could save the message by pressing 1, delete it by pressing 2, or call back by pressing 3. But at that point Dylan wasn't listening. He was still struggling with the fact that his little Sarah had gone to see a movie with "friends" without his permission. The digital clock lit up, displaying the act that it was 11 pm.  Dylan's eyes flicked to the profiles, his heartbeat echoing in his head. He clumsily spread the papers out. He checked the times of each death. each one was in the bracket of 10pm to 3am. Dylan's face went chalk white. He got up too fast, nearly knocking his mug of cold coffee off his desk. He had an awful feeling that something terrible was going to happen. And that it would happen to Sarah.