The Blood Witch (The Blood Reign Chronicles Book 1) by D. S. Nielsen

had happened here.
    Darting out of the door, Jak ran towards his own home which was located several hundred paces southwest of where Brigette’s home sat. As he approached the house, the same eerie sense of stillness lay over it as had been at Brigette’s house. The sense of dread made him hesitate briefly before running up the stairs and flinging open the door. “Mom! …. Dad!” he called frantically. But only silence answered him.
    At first glance, everything in his home looked to be in order. At least there were no bodies lying on the floor. The door to his older brother’s room stood partly ajar. Peering inside, he could see all three of his brothers were in their beds. Jak held his breath in apprehension as he stepped slowly towards his oldest brother. “Edgar,” Jak said as he shook his brother. But there was no answer. None of his brothers would ever answer him again.
    Tears began to well up in his eyes, and a feeling of trepidation set in, as he hurried down the hall to his sisters’ room, but it was empty. The covers were thrown back on the two beds but there was no sign of either of his sisters.
    Panic and horror quickly began to overtake him as he pushed open the door to his parent’s room. Before him was a scene of chaos. Dalla, his oldest sister was lying on her stomach in the middle of the floor, staring lifelessly at the ceiling. Seeing her in this way was extremely unnerving. Dalla looked almost like a broken doll, so unnatural in its surroundings. It reminded Jak of one of Gineara’s dolls with the head twisted around backwards. When Jak was younger, he used to think it was funny when he would do that to his little sister’s dolls, even though Gin would get furious with him. She would get so angry and yell at him because she thought he was going to break her doll by twisting the head around to face the wrong way. There was nothing funny about it this time.
    Jak’s father lay in the bed appearing almost peaceful. If Jak didn’t know better, he would think his father was having a pleasant dream while he slept. Jak’s mother was stretched backwards over the arms of the sitting chair, head back, eyes open, and blood dripping down the front of her nightdress.
    Jak walked slowly towards her, picked her up in his arms, and placed her gently on the floor. He brushed back the hair from his mother’s face lovingly and laid his head on her chest. So many times when he was young, he would sit on his mother’s lap and put his ear to her chest to hear her heart beating. It was a calming, comforting feeling that made him believe that everything was right in the world. This time there was nothing. No sound… only silence, no feeling of warmth or comfort. There never would be again. Jak lay there weeping.
    Jak didn’t know how long he had lain there with his head on his mother’s breast sobbing, when movement at the corner of his eye brought him upright.
    “Gin! You are alive!” he exclaimed. It was his baby sister Gineara. She was standing in the doorway clenching her favorite doll in one arm tightly. Her hands were shaking, lips quivering, and tears were steaming down her little face. Her shoulder length light blonde hair was disheveled, and her blue eyes were red rimmed and glistening with still more unshed tears to come.
    Jak stood and took a step towards her but she recoiled in fear, slipping partially behind the door frame and grasping it tightly with her free hand.
    “It’s me, Jak. Are you alright? Are you hurt?” he asked as calmly as he could manage, but the little girl just stood there with a look of fear in her eyes.
    “It’s alright Gin,” he pleaded, “you know I would never hurt you”. “What happened here?” Jak said, as he dropped to one knee as to not seem so imposing to the small girl. He could tell she was more than a little scared, and for that matter he was scared too. Gin stood there a moment longer then ran forward and flung her arms around Jak’s neck and began to sob