Disclaimer: I do not own anything. Seriously.
The television blared in the background, the theme song on the children's program sung accompanied by loud drums and guitar.
Tasha bobbed her head with the beat, her eyes on the chopping board as she methodically chopped up peeled potato and sweet potato, depositing them into the pot filled with boiling water and cauliflower on the stove when they were perfectly diced.
A messy-haired boy slinked into the kitchen from the lounge room, absently dusting some stray rosemary off the bench and onto the floor.
'What happened to your show, Chris?' Tasha asked, putting the lid on the saucepan holding the vegetables.
Chris peered into the oven through the glass, his eyes on the lamb roast.
'I want to help you cook,' he said, turning to look at her pleadingly.
A small smile lifted her cheeks. It was the best she could give, these days.
'Alright then, you can cut up the garlic.'
Chris caught her eye, and they laughed. Tasha put the garlic clove on the chopping board in front of Chris, and he took the knife in his hands.
'Be careful with that knife,' Tasha warned him, and he rolled his eyes.
Tasha wished that she were as care-free as he was. He did not know what she did…
Chris sliced the garlic up into perfect little pieces, placing them in the pot with the vegetables.
'Why do we put the vegetables and garlic in a pot, Aunt Tasha?' he asked, frowning, as the water in the saucepan boiled. 'Can't we just put them in with the roast?'
Tasha winked at Chris. 'Ah, chef's secret.'
He looked at her, pouting, his ice-blue eyes pleading again. 'Tell me, please?'
Tasha pretended to consider it, and then leaned down to Chris' height.
'Because,' she whispered in his ear, 'it's magic.'
Chris looked perplexed. 'Magic?'
'Watch,' she said, straightening up and pointing to the pot.
Chris drew closer, looking over into the pot.
It was suddenly engulfed in a single burst of flame.
He jumped back, and Tasha laughed, ruffling his already-messy hair.
A slow smile spread across his face as he leant over the saucepan. 'Cool!'
The vegetables and garlic were roasted to perfection, the water completely gone.
Chris looked to her, his eyes bright. 'Will I be able to do that?'
Tasha half-smiled again. 'Maybe. One day.'
Chris was apparently satisfied with this answer, because he turned and opened a cupboard, pulling out two plain plates and setting them on the bench.
Tasha served up the vegetables, scooping them onto the plates, while Chris very carefully used the oven mitts to transfer the roast from the oven to the pot-stand.
When she had finished carving up the small roast onto their plates, she and Chris sat down in the dining room.
The table was meant to sit four, but only two occupied the seats now.
Chris looked sadly at the other two empty seats, a slight wistful look on his face. 'When are mum and dad going to be home?' he asked.
Tasha froze, her fork suspended in the air halfway to her plate. She closed her eyes, looking away to take one deep breath. When she looked back at Chris, he was playing with the edge of the tablecloth, still looking at Lucas and Moira's seats.
'Soon,' she lied, her voice almost breaking. 'Soon.'
There was the sound of keys jangling in the lock on the front door, and Tasha's head jerked towards the noise. Who else had keys to this house?
Chris made to get up, but Tasha motioned for him to stay put. He sat back down, if a little sullenly, and Tasha stalked out to the hallway inside the front door.
It was surreal.
Lucas walked inside, calm as ever, dropping the keys in the little bowl on the small table just like he always did. He shrugged off his coat, hanging it on the coat rack before turning around to help Moira out of her cloak after she'd shut the door behind her.
He gave Moira a kiss on the cheek, and she smiled mischievously, turning her face away as he went in for her lips so that he kissed her other cheek.
Tasha stood frozen at the end of the hallway, a hand over her mouth in shock.
So the rumours were wrong, then. Lucas and Moira were completely fine.
'Enjoying the show, Tasha?'
His voice sent chills down her spine, and it was like being doused in cold water; she could see the things she could not before.
The pasty-white skin, the red ring around the irises.
The small drops of dried blood on their shirt collars.
Tasha backed away as Lucas and Moira approached her, her hand reached out blindly behind her to shut the door.
'I can hear your heart beating,' Moira breathed, her eyes alight with a feverish gleam. 'It beats so fast. Are you scared?' She cocked her head to the side.
Tasha could not speak. Her eyes were wide and frightened.
Lucas looked around the hallway, his eyes lingering on the crystal-handled letter-opener that Tasha was slowly edging her way towards.
With a contemptuous flick he sent it spinning through the air, the blade sinking into the wall beside Tasha's head with a thud.
She screamed as he appeared right in her face.
'You don't have to be scared, sister dearest,' Lucas said, his breath cool against her neck. She was breathing hard.
'It's amazing, the strength, the speed, the power!' Moira whispered into her ear. 'Join us! Drink and be awakened!'
Tasha felt faint; where were Jacob and Adam?
Her eyes flashed to the front door.
Lucas noticed this, and drew back, smirking. 'Don't hold your breath waiting for the guardians,' he said sadistically. 'They're gone.' Tasha could not breathe. 'Dead.' The word drove into her heart like a stake.
The guardians were not coming to save her.
She was alone and defenceless.
And Chris –
'Mummy? Daddy?'
Tasha shrieked, flying around to face the door.
Chris was standing there, one hand on the doorknob, looking incredulously into the faces of his parents.
'Chris!' Moira exclaimed joyously, holding her arms out.
His face brightened, smile lighting up his expression. He had not seen his parents for weeks, and here they were, open-armed.
'CHRIS! STOP! Don't go any further!'
Tasha's scream stopped Chris in his tracks, and he looked to her, confused.
'Aunt Tasha, what…?'
Tasha scrambled to him, pushing him back through the doorway, trying to close the door over him.
He would not budge. 'Why can't I hug mum and dad?' he asked, trying to push the door open again.
'Aunt Tasha just has to talk with them about adult things,' Tasha said desperately.
'Now, now, Tasha, Chris is right,' Moira's voice sounded from behind her, poisonously smooth. 'Why can't he give mummy and daddy a hug? We haven't seen him in so long.'
'RUN, CHRIS! RUN!' Tasha screamed, shoving him backwards just as Moira leapt for her. Tasha scrambled sideways, and Moira's claws scraped across her shoulder, drawing blood.
Lucas lifted his head, sniffing the air. 'We only came for Chris, but…you smell so good, Tasha.'
Moira grabbed her arm, throwing Tasha across the hallway, where she slammed into the wall. Tasha dropped to the floor, groaning, but dragged herself to her feet again, launching herself at Lucas' back as he went for the door to the dining room. He spun around, almost invisibly, his hand going to her throat. Lucas pushed her up against the wall, tightening his grip on her throat.
Tasha could not breathe, and she struggled to pull his hand off her throat. He gritted his teeth, slamming her head back into the wall and removing is hand.
She slid down to the ground again.
But she was up again, dizzy and weak, yanking on Moira's hair to turn her away from Christian.
Moira screamed in pain and fury, spinning around and back-handing Tasha across the face.
Tasha flew across the hallway, landing in a contorted position on the rug. She moaned, her head feeling light.
Lucas and Moira stood over her in a flash, Lucas hauling her up by the throat to slam her head against the wall again.
Tasha felt trickles of blood running down her face, and Lucas licked them off with his tongue.
'Tasha, sister dearest, do you really think you have a chance against us? We're offering one last time – will you join us?'
Summoning up the last bit of confidence she possessed, Tasha spat blood in his face.
His eyes glinted dangerously, and he leaned in close, his breath tickling her ear.
'Just know that Chris will be safe with us,' he whispered, and she whimpered.
And then Lucas leaned forward, lightly kissing her cheek.
And then his fangs bit into her face, ripping away part of the skin there.
Tasha screamed in agony, her knees going weak. Blood poured down her face in what seemed like litres, and it ran over Moira's hair, soaking it red, as she bit into Tasha's neck.
There were no endorphins in these bites; Tasha felt every agonising inch of them.
And she screamed.
She hoped Chris was alright.
Hopefully the guardians would have been alerted to a break-in by now.
She heard a scream intertwined with her own, and Chris was there, in her line of sight, watching in horror as his parents fed off Tasha.
Lucas ripped his teeth out of her face, looking to Chris.
'Chris…run…' Tasha gasped.
Chris stood frozen in terror at the scene, and could only watch as his red-splashed father stalked towards him, arms wide once more.
'Chris, son, give your father a hug.'
It was the kind of scene depicted in horror movies; the blood-covered zombie father insanely grinning as he stalked towards his son.
Tasha felt herself growing weak – she no longer had the energy to scream. Darkness blotted the edge of her vision, the cloying smell of her own blood filling her nose.
Moira, dropped her mouth from Tasha's neck, and Tasha fell to the floor, lying there in a pool of her own blood.
But she was still conscious, still in agonising pain, and she remembered every single detail, crystal-clear.
The sound of the windows crashing was glorious.
Black-clothed figures sprinted towards Lucas and Moira, and they spun around to defend themselves.
They had no chance.
Chris watched from the doorway, his bare feet soaking in the bloody carpet, as the guardians ripped his mother and father to pieces.
The silver stakes flashed under the lights, before the shining disappeared as they were driven through their hearts.
Lucas and Moira's blood ran in rivulets down the hallway, mixing with the blood already saturating the carpet.
Chris watched as it washed over his feet, the red turning his skin a funny colour.
His eyes took in the mutilated bodies of his parents on the floor, and his aunt lying in a pool of blood beside them.
He bent down, pressing his hand into the carpet.
It was wet with red blood as he drew it back to his face.
The blood of his parents. His aunt.
'They're dead,' he said, confused. 'Dead. Gone.'
The guardians watched pityingly as he fell to the ground, his black hair soaking up the blood as darkness overtook him.
A/N: So...what did you think? What will happen when Tasha wakes up?