The Vampire Next Door

The tiny office of the local estate agent felt stifling, the air thick with the scent of old paper and the nervous sweat of the balding man across from Paige. He dabbed his brow, his eyes darting to the paperwork between them. Paige, however, was focused on the house it represented—the one on Victoria Lane. It was a bargain, a dream, and she was determined to have it, despite the agent's obvious discomfort.

“Just sign on the dotted line and the house is yours,” he urged, pushing the pen closer.

Paige rolled the pen between her fingers, a faint unease stirring within her. The house had been on the market for an unusually long time, and the agent’s desperation was palpable.

“Is there something wrong with this house?” she asked, her voice cutting through the silence.

The man’s forced smile and quick denial did little to reassure her. Still, she loved the house. She picked up the pen, but hesitated, glancing at him once more. “What about that house next door?” she asked, a sudden curiosity striking her.