The 8th: Chapter One"Did you see that?" the mother looked at the two young adults on her left, "Freaking idiot was driving practically in the middle of the road!"
The daughter rubbed her eyes and leaned her head back against the glass.
"Mom, can't you relax for once on this trip?" she yawned.
"You're right," she sighed, "Sorry. It's nice out here though isn't it? In the country."
She chanced a glance at her son, who had distanced himself from her by turning up the music streaming from his ear phones. She sighed and swept a blonde curl away from her eyes. The GPS instructed her to turn down a short drive way in front of a quaint home nestled into the side of a hill. She smiled and pat her son on the leg to bring him back to reality.
"You have reached your destination," buzzed the electronic voice of the GPS.
"We're finally here!" she killed the engine and leapt from the driver's seat, "C'mon! Everyone out of the truck!" excitement roused her daughter from her snooze.
She stretched in her seat while her bro
The 8th: PrologueShe looked at the long black streak down her left arm. She traced it from the crest at her wrist to its thin tail almost in the crook of her elbow. Its unhappy dark color stood out from pale skin. Quietly she put her arms through the sleeves of her coat and buttoned up the front. She wound a burgundy scarf loosely around her neck then draped her long hair over her shoulders. Her boots clicked against the wood as she glided down the stairs. She stood for a moment in the vast chamber. The mansion was cold and empty. The gilded chandelier hung above her head, lightless and still.
She followed a long corridor into the kitchen. A few dusty pots and pans hung on racks. She opened the large refrigerator. On the shelf was one large, white drink pitcher. She held a glass under the spout and pressed. A small drizzle of red liquid began then dripped until it finally stopped. She examined the glass. The fluid had barely managed to coat the bottom of the container.
"Annabelle, won't you be a doll a