The back garden was where I found them. Half buried in a hastily dug ditch. Maxxie had left me the last of his cigarettes, so I went out the back to have one and try to think what to do next when he had gone home. I didn't notice it at first. It was right at the end of the garden. But there was this sort of mound that hadn't been there before. I thought maybe it was one of mum's gardening project things - she was always in the garden doing something. But something just didn't seem quite right about it. It was one of those gut feelings. You know what I mean. When you take a different route home one night because going the normal way just feels... wrong. It was like that.
Creeping up the garden, I could smell it. That same smell from the bedroom, smothered by the freshly turned earth. The blood. It was always going to be the blood, wasn't it? The smell that would haunt me all the rest o my fucking life. My stomach tried to crawl up through my throat. Pale fingers clawed at the dirt. The outline of someone's broken torso. I might have been able to tell who it was if I wasn't about to puke.
It didn't take long for the police to turn up. While they dragged the bodies out of the hole and lined them up in the garden for the forensic guys, I was kept in the living room with a couple of police officers that were doing their best to simultaneously comfort and take a statement from me. I heard them arguing later on about whether I was a suspect or not, while I watched countless uniforms crawling through my house, taking down every detail they thought they might need.
I was taken to the police station for a proper questioning. They grilled me about my statement for what felt like days. I suppose whichever cop thought I was worth being a suspect had made a good case for it, because for a while they were treating it like I was the one that had killed them. I probably didn't help that by exploding at them. Until one of them suggested I was the killer, I had been just sitting there in shock, answering their questions over and over like a fucking machine. I couldn't believe he'd suggested it for a moment.
"Your sister was doing well in school. People liked her. Your parents were good to the both of you. Why did you kill them?" he asked coldly, staring at me. I looked up, my eyes stinging and bloodshot from the crying, momentarily frozen in his gaze. My mind just went blank. I threw myself across that little table before anyone could think to stop me. I landed on the cop that had said it and broke his nose before they could restrain me.
After that, I spent a couple hours in the room by myself, handcuffed to my chair. Warily, they came back in, but with a couple more cops to stand by the door - just in case. There were plenty of questions as to why I'd reacted like that.
"How the fuck would you feel, huh?" I shouted at them. "How the /fuck/ would you feel if someone asked you that? You come home, find the bedroom covered in blood, go outside for a fag and there they are at the end of your fucking garden in a ditch. You think you'd be okay with someone asking that?" the cops standing at the door looked at each other as if they were worried they weren't going to be enough if I somehow got out of the handcuffs.
That was a long night in jail. I gave up asking why they were keeping me there. I paced the little cell restlessly, thinking up plenty of colourful ideas of how I'd find and kill whoever took my family away from me. I would make them suffer. Maybe once I found out how they'd died, I'd do that to whoever it was that did it to them. I'd take their family away. I'd kill all their friends, everyone they cared about. If they didn't have anyone they cared about, I'd find some other way to fuck with them. My dreams weren't much better, if I managed to get to sleep at all.
I woke up to someone outside the cell joking with another about how I was crying in my sleep. I heard another gossiping about how I was a psycho and needed to be in a straight jacket and a padded cell, not in an overnight police station cell. There was more, but I gave up listening. None of them seemed to care that I'd just had my family ripped away from me by some sick, twisted fuck.
Next day, the post mortem came back. Turned out they had all been drained of blood. That was when I knew exactly who to blame for this. Lucas had been brought in for questioning not long after I had. Guess who drank blood? Guess which only other member of the family was still alive? I probably would've been in that ditch too, if I hadn't been out of the house.
I could hardly tell the cops that though, could I? "My half brother's a vampire and he must have been the one that drained their blood." That one really would land me in the padded cell.
The next set of questions they had were all about who had last used the shower. Well how the fuck was I supposed to know? I was out of the house, remember? They told me off for being sarcastic when I said that to them, and asked me again. I told them maybe Annie was in the shower. She was always going out with some guy or another on dates. Her hair wasn't wet, they told me. She has a hair drier, I replied as calmly as I could.
Then they asked about who last visited. Again, how was I supposed to know?
Eventually, even after exhausting me, they had to let me go when my story stayed the same. They didn't seem to believe it entirely for some reason, but there was enough evidence in the form of Maxxie to tell them I had been out of the house and that I couldn't have done it. They didn't have anything they could keep me in there for any longer, so, begrudingly, I was told to clear off and find somewhere to stay.
I got myself a cheap room in a hostel on the other side of London. Even with the noise of the main road right outside that permeated the entire building, I could hardly miss the news report on the TV in the common room. I looked up to see my face along side Lucas' as the reporter spun a sob story about how mum and dad and Annie were killed and how there was now an appeal to help find the killer or killers. I grimaced as she went into details that the police had released. Faces turned towards me slowly as they realised I was one of the faces still in the corner of the screen.
"The fuck are you looking at?" I grunted irritably. All eyes averted and went straight back to the screen, watching as the story changed. I couldn't stick around in there, though. All I could fucking think about was Lucas and his shitty vampire friends. Jesse probably had a part in it. Maybe the others did too. How was I supposed to know?
Jesse had mentioned something once about hunters. It crossed my mind more than a handful of times that maybe I should become one. I'd hunt anything and everything I could find until I found Lucas and made him pay.