I have re-rated this T. I really don't think it needs the rating M. Maybe 13 year olds won't get the slightly 'hardboiled' style, which was why I rated it M in the first place. However, there is nothing heinous in the story at all, so reading it won't scar your minds, I promise.

Please be patient with poor confused Robin. It's Vlad's fault he can't remember anything, after all. This chapter, and the next, Robin is playing catch-up.

4. In the Loop.

I don't know what to make of this. Should I just ignore it until it goes away? Maybe the past is best left alone. Maybe there is a good reason I can't remember a year of my life. Jonno sounded shaky and scared and he said his Dad is dead. I know Mr Van Helsing hasn't been in school for a while, but no one said he was…dead. I shake my head, sitting on my usual bench at the far end of school. It's no good. I can't go to sixth with a head full of confusion. It would be pointless, I wouldn't be able to concentrate on the lesson. I bring my legs up and wrap my arms around them, working my lip with my teeth as I roll everything through my head.

These names and words that are being thrown about put a small shiver into my spine. My thick head is trying hard to make a connection. Ingrid. Vlad. The castle. Slayer. These names and words are meaningless, disconnected. Despite this, I feel like they are linked, and it's me who is disconnected.

The day bends onwards, rushing past me. I barely hear the bell for seventh. When the registration bell goes I finally manage to coax my muscles to move. I ride out the remaining minutes of the school day, keep myself locked up tight in my head, don't let anyone at all catch my eye. Chloe stares at me unflinchingly throughout the ride home. I give her my cold shoulder, not because I want to annoy her but because Mam is in the car and I don't want her to hear the things I need to say to Chloe.

"Dinner is at seven," Mam sings as we walk into the house. Chloe smiles and thanks her. I head straight towards the stairs, as always. Chloe pushes past me as she heads to her room, deliberately pushing me, giving me a hard glare. I grab her arm and pull her into my room, manoeuvring her to my bed and sitting her down.

"What?" she snaps.

"You said you wanted to stay in the loop. So I'm using my lasso and I'm bringing you in. Unless you're pulling back that request? Because I can probably operate alone, if I have to." Her glare does not soften, she just stares. I take a look out my window and then draw my curtains closed.

"I am going to say some names and words. Tell me if they connect," I mutter, putting my back to the room and Chloe. "Ingrid."

"…Ingrid? Isn't that the name of the girl who used to live in the castle? The daughter of that haughty uppity Lord?" My eyes widen and I swoop around to face her.

"The castle? That was one of the words. I don't remember anyone having lived in that place for ages."

"I think they moved out. I'm not certain. Sometimes I see lights or hear music. People come and go from there. But I always thought that place was long abandoned and the local hoodies use it for skins parties."

"Hmm, I heard that too. So the girl who lived there was called Ingrid was she?"

"I don't even know if that's her name. What's this all about, Robin?"

I ignore that and try out the next name.

"How about Vlad?"

"Look, I don't know. If you wanted to play word games why can't we just go downstairs and play a round of scrabble."

"I prefer boggle myself."

"Boggle then. Sounds good. I'll get dressed out of my school uniform and meet you in the living room. I expect Dad and the twins will want a round when they get back from work." She gets up onto her feet and moves across to my room door. I pace across and slam it shut again, staring down at her.

"No! This is important, Chloe! Quit messing around. People are in danger."

"Danger? What kind of danger?" she gasps.

"I dunno quite yet. Something to do with all these disappearances. The large number of people found dead and drained of blood. The missing memories. And some words that I can't find any connection between. Words like Ingrid, Vlad, the castle, slay, stakes. So yeah, I want to play a word game; a word game where the outcome means more than a triple word score. So put your thinking gap on, my boffin of a sister. Find what links these words."

"Stakes? Like in a bet?"

I shrug and repeat the words as I remember them. "'She's playing with the stakes' was what he said." I'm not sure that was exactly it, but it's close and it's all I have.

"Who said? Come on, Robin. If you want my help you're going to have to fill me in a bit." She puts her hands on her hips and gives me a stern expression. I consider telling her everything, about the weird conversations. But something nags at me. I shake my head and pace across to my window, peeling back the curtain and taking another look out.

"Look, Chloe, I'm not sure yet. Feels like this could get heavy. It's already heavy. And I'm not sure what I'm stepping into, but I'm pretty sure it's nasty. I don't want to pull you down with me. So you're just going to have to ride in the sidecar and trust me to lead the way. I can't give you all the details because if you know them all then maybe it's bad news for you. I can't have my little sister in any sort of danger. I don't want to be the person who puts you into it." I lean against the wall and tilt my head back.

"That's hardly fair! If you want me in the loop you have to tell me what you know."

"You were the one who requested to be in 'the loop'. I could do with your help. You have more than half a head on you and I could use you. But I won't give you information that I don't think you need, that I think might lead into danger." I edge my eyes across to hers and wait for some kind of response. She just glares at me. "So what's your status on this? Are you going to help me operate this from the sidelines, or do you want out altogether?"

"I can't say I like it. Don't you think it's safer for me to be clued in? If you're getting yourself into danger it's likely to involve me. I don't like the sound of any of it…"

"It's the way it is. If it gets too hot and I think things are about to blow I'll give you plenty of warning. So are you in or are you out?"

She clenches her teeth and makes a small sound of irritation. "I asked that you involve me, and now you are so I have to say I'm in."

"Yeah, you kind of do."

She sighs and sits back on the bed, face hardening into concentration.

"There is something that springs to mind. I can't believe you have not made the connection between all these words. Slay, stake, castle, people drained of blood, weird Eastern European names." I'm not following and I think my ruffled forehead says that loud and clear. She rolls her eyes and points a finger towards my DVD collection. "Come on Robin. All you ever watch is that Buffy stuff, that Hellsing anime, Underworld, Twilight."

"I do not watch or read Twilight."

"I've seen you," she says with a raised chin. I narrow my eyes and shake my head. Oh how I wish she was wrong. "So what do all of these things have in common?" she asks.

I think about it for a moment, my eyes scanning my bedroom walls. "Well…vampires. But what have fictional characters got to do with this situation I am finding myself in?"

"That is something I don't know. You refuse to tell me the whole story. You asked me to connect the words. I have done. So that's that." She's got a point there.

"Alright then. Fine. One more thing: there are other people in this town who lost their memories."

"Who?"

"Mr Renfield for one. Jonno and his dad." I list them on my fingers. "Is it just me; or is that a lot of people in one small town to suffer from lacunar amnesia?" Chloe inhales and smoothes out the creases in her school trousers.

"It is somewhat strange. But coincidences can happen."

"Doesn't sit right with me. Remind me of the old rumour mill concerning Mr Renfield. How did it go?"

She doesn't answer for a while, long enough for me to think that maybe she's changed her mind and doesn't want to help me out after all. "I'm not totally sure what you mean. But there was a local story that did the rounds. People knew Mr Renfield before he started to work at school. He was homeless, or at least assumed homeless because it didn't look or smell like he took frequent baths."

"Yeah. Every town, every place in this world where there are people there is always at least one fruit-loop who hangs around not just like a bad smell. Some places will have a guy who wanders the street picking litter from the bins and studying it, mumbling under his rotten breath. In others it'll be a guy that pushes an old rusty bike around, has trousers several inches too short and no teeth. No matter what; every place has a local hick. Ours was Renfield."

"That's mean! Mr Renfield is not a bad, or mad, man."

"Whatever. One of the few memories I actually have of that missing year is a day out with you at Stokely Museum. I can't think why I would have wanted to hang out with my annoying little sister on the weekend, in a museum, but we definitely did go."

"Oi!" she scowls. I shrug and make a mumbled apology.

"Well anyway, Mr Renfield was there skulking about stinking the whole place out. So what I want to know is: when did he clean his act up and get a job and a house and brush his hair? He hadn't got his act together then. So why did he bother if he was happy stinking up the local attractions? At what point did he lose his memory? The same time as us?"

"When exactly did we lose ours? Can you even pin-point that kind of thing?" she asks. I think about it and saunter across my room to sit beside her on my bed.

"Yeah…I think I can. That Scout Cabaret. The one where Dad made us dress up as the 'Five a Day Family'"

"I think that's just your own head trying to forget the fact that you danced around all evening dressed as a pineapple," she laughs. I thump her in the arm and shake my head. "Ow!" she pulls a face at me and cradles her arm.

"I'm sure that was when I realised that I had no idea what I had been doing earlier that day, or the day before, or any time before that since the start of year 8. And we gave a lift to that strange dude who kept talking to his wrist. Remember him?"

She thinks back on it and hesitantly nods. "Vaguely."

"He kept asking me where he was and how he got there. We took him to the hospital in the end because he really couldn't remember anything at all, other than his name was Burt, or Kurt or something. Mam was really worried." My brain is working really hard right now, tugging at the loose threads in my memory. Something comes back to me all of a sudden. It's not something from the year I lost, but from a few weeks after I realised my memory was shot. "He showed up dead not very long after that. It was in all the papers and Mam had a terrible time of it."

"That's right. She was very upset that we hadn't taken him in. His body disappeared in the morgue and they never found the body or who snatched it. It was really weird." After that the number of deaths in Stokely took an upwards turn. That was when things started to get dark and scary around here. Bingo. I have a starting point. I press my lips together and take a look towards my digital alarm clock. 5:48pm.

"Well cheers then Chloe. I've got a lot to chew on now," I say, getting to my feet.

"Can I go?" I nod and open my door for her.

I'll put up chapter 5 right away. If at any point people think this should be rated M, then let me know. For now I firmly believe it belongs in the T rating.

Thanks to those who have reviewed, I really appreciate it.