LOGINSarah pushed her bedroom door shut with a quiet click.
The hallway noise died instantly. She crossed the room in three steps and stopped in front of her closet. From the outside, it looked completely normal. Jeans folded on the shelf. Dresses hung in a neat row. A black coat hanging at the very back, like it always did. She reached behind the coat and pressed her thumb against a small, hidden button in the wood. The whole back panel shifted. A soft hiss, and the closet gave way, sliding inward to reveal a seam in the wall. Behind it was a door. Sarah pulled it open and stepped inside. She flipped the switch on the wall. Cold light flooded the room. The room was small. Bare concrete walls. No windows. The only thing in the room was a single white fridge sitting in the middle of the floor, humming low. Sarah walked to the fridge and opened it. Inside, lined up in perfect rows, were blood bags. She took one and quickly tore the corner with her teeth. Her eyes flashed red. Dark veins spidered out from under her eyes, down her cheeks. Her teeth lengthened, sharp fangs sliding into place. She drank. All of it. Until the bag was empty. Then she was still. Sarah walked out of the secret room and shut the door. The panel slid back into place with a soft click, and the closet looked normal again. Just coats. Just dresses. Her hands were still cold from the blood bag. She wiped them on her jeans without thinking, then moved to her bookshelf. It was crammed — old hardcovers, paperbacks with broken spines, journals. She looked for a while, fingers trailing across titles, eyes scanning. Then she stopped. Her hand hovered, then grabbed it. A thin book. Black leather, no title on the spine. Worn at the edges like it’d been opened too many times. She opened it and it was the exact page she was looking for. Like the book knew. Sarah read a couple lines. Her lips moved silently over the words. She fearfully closed it. The thump was loud in the quiet room. Sarah swallowed hard. Her throat clicked. The red was still in her eyes, reflected in the dark window across from her. *** Jake waited until the hallway went quiet. No TV. No footsteps. Just Aunty Marisol’s soft snoring behind her bedroom door. He slipped inside. The room smelled like lavender and old paper. Her laptop was on the nightstand, lid closed. He took her laptop to his room. Didn’t turn on the lights. Just shut his door, sat on the bed, and flipped it open. The screen glare hit his face hard in the dark. He went straight to the browser and searched for `Vampire`. The results loaded instantly: “Vampires are mythical, undead beings from folklore—primarily Slavic and Greek—that subsist by feeding on human blood, often rising from the grave to terrorize the living. While popularized as seductive, fanged figures by Bram Stoker's Dracula (1897), original legends described them as bloated, ruddy” Vampire Lore & Abilities - Modern Compendium Comprehensive breakdown of traditional and evolved vampire traits. Common weaknesses include sunlight exposure causing burns or rapid aging. Note: Some bloodlines have overcome solar limitations through enchanted objects — rings, bracelets, or necklaces forged with old magic allow daylight movement Jake remembered during PE when Sarah slid the bracelet down, just a little bit past her wrist and his eyes caught a small, raw burn on her skin, red from the sun. And when she shoved the bracelet back up her wrist, the burn cleared. Can Vampires Enter Without Permission? - Thread Law Explained Older texts agree: a vampire cannot cross into a private dwelling uninvited. The barrier is metaphysical, tied to ownership and intent. Once invited, they may enter freely until the invitation is revoked. Public spaces have no such restriction. Compulsion: The Vampire’s Voice Documented ability among most vampire strains. Through sustained eye contact and focused will, a vampire can implant suggestions or erase short-term memories in humans. Jake flashes back to when the Referee was suddenly willing to let Sarah play with her glove and bracelet on after a long eye-to-eye contact with Sarah Vampire Speed Feats - How Fast is “ Superhuman”? Eyewitness accounts and folklore estimate movement speeds from 60-90 mph in short bursts. Appears as teleportation to human eyes. Motion is silent, often preceded by a drop in ambient temperature. Jake remembered how he left Sarah standing at the crime scene, and when he got into the school hallway, turned back to wave goodbye to Rose. Sarah was standing right in front of him when he faced front. Jake scrolled, the blue light painting his face. His jaw tightened. Sunlight. Rings. Compulsion. Speed. Invitations. *** School hours The next day. English class. Jake kept looking at Sarah. Not a normal look—small, knowing, sharp at the edges of a faint smile. Sarah felt Jake watching her every time Mrs. Snow turned to the board. It crawled up her spine. Then someone came and called Mrs. Snow’s attention out of the class. She stepped into the hallway, door half-open. Then the sound of the bell was heard. Desks scraped. Zippers ripped. All students packed their books and hurried out of the class, laughing, shoving, and loud. Jake went out of the classroom too but stood at the entrance. He leaned against the doorframe, waiting. When all the students hurried out, and Sarah made to go out too, Jake stood in front of her. Sarah sighed and made to move. Jake blocked her. “What do you want, weirdo?” Sarah asked, her voice flat. “I know what you are,” Jake replied, weird smile spread across his face. Sarah swallowed and looked around. The hallway was empty. Mrs. Snow’s voice echoed from down the hall. There was no one around. “You are a vampire, Sarah,” he muttered. “I don’t know what you are saying,” Sarah denied. Her face was blank, but her fingers twitched at her sides. “I followed you, Sarah,” Jake shouted. Too loud for the empty room. “I followed you last night. You couldn’t enter Bonnie’s house until you were invited.” He said. “Cause it’s not my house,” Sarah said, looking away. “Cause you are a vampire,” Jake argued, stepping closer. “Sorry, you have the wrong person,” Sarah said and made to go again. Jake brought out a small knife from his pocket and cut his hand with it. Blood dripped. One drop hit the tile. Sarah’s eyes widened. The air changed. She smelled it — life. She tried to control herself but she couldn’t. The thirst roared up her throat like a living thing. She sped at Jake, grabbed him by the neck, sprinted and hit him on the wall at the end of the room. This happened in less than a second. Books fell off a shelf from the impact. Dust rained down. Sarah’s eyes were changed. Black to the edges, ringed with red. Her fangs out, long and gleaming. There were veins under her eyes, dark and branching like cracks in glass. Jake smiled breathing heavily, his back pinned to the wall, her hand on his throat. “Got you,” he whispered. Mrs. Snow walked back into the classroom, staring surprisingly at Jake and Sarah. Her eyes flicked from Jake pinned against the wall, to Sarah’s hand still on his throat, to the books scattered on the floor. “Everything alright there?” She asked, her voice careful. Jake looked over Sarah's shoulder at Mrs. Snow. "Yes, ma," he said calmly, as if nothing had happened. Sarah turned back. Her face was normal again. No fangs. No veins. No red. Just pale, blank, a little annoyed. She picked her bag off the floor and walked out of the classroom. “Sorry,” she muttered as she walked past Mrs. Snow. She didn’t see her eyes. Jake pushed off the wall and followed behind as though nothing unusual had happened. He looked at his supposed cut hand, there was no cut anymore, it healed like nothing ever happened. Mrs. Snow looked at them, making a face. Eyebrows drawn, mouth turned down. She didn’t move until they were out of sight, until their footsteps faded down the hall. Then she looked at the single drop of blood on the tile. Jake was walking casually along the hallway. Hands in his pockets, whistling low. Like he hadn’t just been slammed into a wall. Sarah was walking hurriedly behind him. Her steps clipped, tense. “You won’t say anything about me, will you?” “Your secret’s safe with me,” Jake said, not stopping or looking back. “I’m serious. No one knows what I am,” Sarah said. “Except you now.” Jake stopped. Sarah stopped too and they faced each other. The hallway was empty, lockers on both sides like silent witnesses. “Got it,” Jake assured. “It’s just you and me alone.” Sarah wasn’t sure Jake would keep her secret. Her eyes searched his face for a lie. She looked Jake in the eye. Jake was also looking at her. “You won’t tell anyone what you saw today about me,” Sarah said. The compulsion rolled off her voice, thick and heavy. Jake’s eyes glowed golden-yellow for a second. Then Jake laughed out loudly. The sound bounced off the lockers. Sarah was taken aback. She actually stepped back. “You think you can do that with me too?” Jake asked, grinning. “Sorry, your little trick won’t work on me,” he added, tapping his temple. Sarah felt insulted. A cold spike of anger under her ribs. Who is he?. She thought. Her eyes caught a guy walking at the end of the hall. Same build. Same walk. “No, you are supposed to be dead,” she muttered, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Jake turned to look at the person. "That's Bonnie's boyfriend Kyle," Jake said. "Why would you be wishing him dead?" His expression turned serious for the first time. The classroom was empty now. Afternoon light cut sharp across the desks. Jake was sitting on the table with his leg on the chair, ankle resting on his knee. Casual. Sarah paced around the classroom. Three steps, turn. Three steps, turn. Like she was wearing a track into the tile. "Maybe he survived the drowning," Jake said, watching Sarah carefully. “You are not getting me, Jake,” Sarah said. She stopped pacing, just for a second. “I watched that guy in question die.” She added. Her voice had no shake. Just certainty. “So why is he here, walking in flesh and blood?” Jake asked. He tilted his head. “Dead guys don’t do that.” He said. “You said you followed me yesterday,” Sarah said, resuming her track across the floor. “That was why I went to Bonnie’s house. Kyle drowned in front of us.” “And this morning, his body didn’t float back to the top,” Jake said. He wasn’t smiling now. “That’s unusual, right?” He asked. “Yes,” Sarah answered. She stopped by the window, back to him. “In other incidents, the bodies always flow to the top.” Jake was quiet for a beat. “What if that’s not Kyle?” Sarah spun to face him. “Exactly what I’m thinking,” Sarah said. Her eyes were dark, and scared. “Come with me,” she added, and hurried out. Jake dropped his leg from the chair. No questions. He followed. Sarah stopped behind the trees. The river was just past the bush, sunlight glinting off the water. She and Jake watched closely. Kyle was standing in front of the river, looking at it like he was lost. Shoulders slack. Head tilted. Not moving. Jake stepped on a dry leaf, and his foot slipped.Sarah caught him while he was falling. Her hand clamped on his arm — too fast, too hard. It made a noise. Twigs snapping. Kyle turned in that direction. Sharp. No hesitation. Sarah and Jake quickly hid, ducking back behind the thick trunk. They held their breath. When they felt like he had looked away, they looked to catch a glimpse of him. But there was no one there. Just the river. Just the empty bank where he’d stood. They both looked at each other. When Jake looked again, Sarah was already standing exactly where Kyle stood. She hadn’t made a sound moving there. Jake came behind, watching the ground. “Sarah,” he called, and Sarah looked at him. “No footprints,” he said. Sarah’s eyes widened as she noticed it. The mud was soft, damp. Should’ve held every step. But it was smooth. Untouched. “When I got there, there were bubbles in the water,” she said, staring at the river. “Does it mean he dived in?” Jake asked, unsure. “With no sound, no splash?” Sarah asked. Her voice was low. “Nothing entered that water.” Jake frowned. “Who else was here when he drowned?” “Bonnie,” Sarah said. And immediately her face went pale like she remembered something. Blood drained out of her cheeks. “We have to warn Bonnie,” she said.Jake stared at his hand, realizing what he'd done."No... Douglas... NO!"Pa Caleb let go and stepped back, the knife still in his hand, watching."JAKE!" Aren screamed,Douglas collapsed to his knees, then to the floor.The second man seized the opportunity, removed Aren's hand from his throat, and gave him a blow on the face. Aren doubled over, stumbling back.Douglas' heart slipped from Jake's hand as he hurried and knelt beside Douglas' lifeless body."Douglas? Douglas! Come on man, come on!"Douglas didn't move."You made a wrong decision," Pa Caleb said, voice cold from behind.Jake turned to look at him. Eyes full of tears, teeth bared.With a loud scream, Jake lunged at him again. They both fell on the floor, Jake on top. Jake used his claws to cut Pa Caleb's face — once, twice — blood spraying.This made the other man distracted. He left Aren and quickly ran to help Pa Caleb.Aren sprinted after him. When he caught up with the man, he twisted his neck. The man fell on the flo
"We are not letting them know the Tidewalker's location, and neither are we freeing it," Sarah shouted. "You may want to rethink that decision," Jake fired. "What?" "Are you forgetting the havoc that monster created? Or the worst it could do if we let it go?" Sarah asked. "So we should let my mom die?" Bonnie asked, voice breaking. "We can save your mom and Jake's aunt. Sarah said. "Just not like this." "How can we do that when we don't even know their location?" Bonnie asked. "If we don't give Pa Caleb and his cohorts the location of where we trapped the Tidewalker, they are gonna kill my aunt and Bonnie's mom," Jake said. "I guess it will be even," Sarah said flatly. "What does that mean?" Bonnie asked. "Rose's mom died. Was that the end of the world?" Rose blinked. "What? Can you hear yourself?" Bonnie shouted. "I can't believe you will even say that!" "You are forgetting you didn't trap the Tidewalker alone," Jake said. "It was teamwork." "Yes," Sarah fired. "And we h
The room was tight. Too quiet."So they took your mom," Rose said, looking at Bonnie.Bonnie was pacing the living room. Back and forth. Hands twisting."And your aunt," Rose added, eyes drifting to Jake.Jake was sitting on the sofa, legs bouncing. Nonstop."The question now is who is 'they'," Sarah said, arms folded against the wall."I didn't know the Tidewalker had followers," Aren said."I'm sure it was Douglas that created them," Rose said."Then why are we not questioning Douglas?" Aren asked.Jake looked up at them. "Douglas doesn't remember a thing.""Jake, I don't think you know how to use what you have to its full potential," Aren said."What do you mean?" Jake asked."You can get information from Douglas mind, brain, whatever," Aren said."How?" Jake asked."He is not a vampire, remember," Sarah said."You didn't think it's only vampires that know that trick, do you?" Aren asked.Jake looked at Sarah."Sarah, you haven't taught me that yet," Rose said."There are a lot of
At night, in the abandoned boat house, there is a little crowd gathered inside. Ten. Maybe fifteen. Hoods up. Candlelight flickering against old fishing nets and wet wood.There were indistinct murmurs coming from the crowd. Low voices. Anxious. Angry.Then the old wooden door creaked open.A man walked in.He was tall. Hair slicked back, soaked from the sea mist. He didn't hurry. He looked at the people at his right hand side, and then those at his left hand side as he walked to the front. The wood groaned under his boots.The murmur stopped abruptly as everyone turned to look at him.Silence, except for water lapping the stilts below.The man faced them."Followers of the Tidewalker," the man started. His voice was low, but it carried. "For a month now, the Tidewalker has been trapped in a location unknown to us."He paused and looked at them. One by one."The leader we all know before Douglas," he continued, "has been freed and can not even remember being a vessel of the Tidewalker
Jake sat by the window, his forehead resting lightly against the cool glass.The seat shook under him with every pothole. Around the edges, the windows were fogged from the long ride, making everything outside look smeared and gray.He hadn’t really slept.His backpack was hugged against his chest, one arm wrapped around it like it was a pillow. His head kept nodding forward every few minutes.The engine hummed beneath him. Toward the back, a kid was playing videos on his phone without headphones. Every once in a while, a burst of laughter came through the tiny speakers.Jake closed his eyes.He’d been counting down to this.It wasn’t that he hated Ashford Cove. He’d settled in. The school. The people. Sarah. Bonnie. Rose.Even the endless supernatural mess that kept finding them.But home felt different. Home was home.The bus slowed.Jake opened his eyes as the buildings outside started looking familiar.The old grocery store.The gas station with the busted sign.The line of trees
For the first time in weeks, Ashford Cove was quiet.Not the strange kind of quiet that made people look over their shoulders. Just... quiet.The Ashford River flowed normally again. No black water. No voices coming from the fog.The fishermen were back. The shops were open. People walked the streets without rushing home before sunset.And, most importantly — Jake and his crew focused fully on school.The bell rang. Exactly eight.Students poured through the gates, laughing, shouting, complaining about homework they hadn't done. A soccer ball bounced past. Someone dropped a textbook.For them, it was just another Monday.For Jake, Sarah, Bonnie, and Rose, it felt almost strange.They had gotten so used to preparing for the next attack that having nothing to prepare for felt wrong.Jake stood by the school entrance, hands in his pockets, watching students walk past. The sun hit the pavement. No shadows where they shouldn't be.Sarah came up beside him. "Feels weird, doesn't it?"Ja







