DANCING WITH THE DEAD

CHAPTER ONE: SECRETS UNVEILED

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"Indiana, wake up!" my mother hissed, tearing me away from my dreams. The other people in the hostel were sleeping peacefully while the air around my mother, father, and I was tense.

I'd always had a dreadful growing feeling that my mother and father were hiding something from me. The knowing glances they shared, the sudden moves from city to city, and the overprotectiveness always gave me the feeling that something just isn't right.

Not to mention that random strange occurrences have always seemed to happen to me in the past seventeen years of my life.

When I was four-years-old I somehow managed to escape the preschool playground and made it all the way to a highway where a police officer found me sleeping peacefully in the HOV lane. The fact I wasn't run over baffles me to this day.

When I was seven I somehow was able to lure a pony at a petting zoo to jump over the fence connecting it to the chicken coop, which as you could imagine led to total utter chaos.

When I was ten, the power went out in my elementary school and I somehow ended up in the ceiling rafters above the woman's restroom even though I have zero recollection of this experience.

The craziest occurrence of all is that I was born with completely different colored eyes than both of my parents which should be genetically impossible. While my mother's and father's eyes are icy-blue, mine are an amber shade that looks like gold more than anything. Of course, DNA is more complicated than it appears so I've just learned not to question it.

So as you could imagine when my family and I were evicted from our apartment, moved to Europe, and basically turned into nomads I wasn't surprised at all. In fact, if a meteor was to fall from the sky and hit me right this moment I would probably be underwhelmed.

"What?" I mumbled, aggravated by the tight grip my mother still had around my shoulder.

"We have to go!"

I rolled onto my side discarding the fact my parents still stood beside me. "Ten more minutes."

"Indiana dear, we don't have ten minutes," my father spoke, calmness dripping from his voice.

Out of the two of them, he was always the rational one.

I hastily rubbed my eyes, sitting up to see absolutely nothing but pitch black.

I groaned. "What time is it?"

"3:08 AM." My dad tapped his watch.

My mother had crazy eyes as she fumed, "Hurry!"

Her hand reached for my shoulder once again and I smacked it away standing and stretching out my back. Our current location was a small town in France. We'd been there for two days, I should've known they were already planning our next move.

I took my clothes into the bathroom and changed out of my ratty nightgown and into a stretched gray dress. I had to sell the majority of my clothes so we could afford a plane ticket. This left me with a very limited and well... homely wardrobe.

I pulled on my tattered red converse and brushed out my long, wavy chocolate hair. I glanced over my fair skin and nearly cursed my DNA for the freckles sprinkled across my nose.

But hey, I'm a self-conscious seventeen-year-old, what did you expect?

A knock on the door alerted me that my time was up; quickly grabbing my canvas backpack, I haphazardly stuffed my books and phone inside.

I got a phone right before we were evicted from our apartment. I'm not sure where my parents were getting the money to pay for the phone bills, but I'm not complaining.

The commotion from my parents had unfortunately woken another family who gave us agitated glares cursing at us in a language I recognized to be Italian. I muttered an awkward apology before being pulled out and into the chilly streets.

You would think I would get used to leaving hostels in the middle of the night, as I've done it a countless amount of times, yet it still scares me. Something about the night terrifies me, no, horrifies me. There's this strange overwhelming feeling of vulnerableness that haunts me every time I turn a corner or see the shadow of a drunk man returning home from a club.

"Where are we going?" I asked my mother, jogging to catch up with her quick pace.

"Train station," she replied shortly.

"Where are we off to this time?" I felt that tiny bit of excitement I get each time we travel to a new place.

"It's a surprise," my dad responded with a smile on his face that didn't quite reach his eyes.

I cocked an eyebrow. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"There's nothing dear, we're simply catching a train," my dad spoke with a reassuring smile.

I didn't believe it for a second, but I'd gotten used to that by now.

I trailed behind, constantly rubbing my tired eyes and yawning as we trudged down the dimly lit streets.

We finally made it to the empty train station only lit by flickering fluorescent lights when a wave of fear hit me like well... a train.

Standing at the edge of the platform were two men, nearly identical, wearing matching suits with some sort of winged symbol on the right shoulder.

Their hands were behind their backs and their posture was as stiff as a board. One was slightly taller than the other, yet they both shared the same mud-brown eyes that almost seemed to have a reddish tint to them.

I glanced up at my dad with anxiety in my eyes yet he didn't return my gaze. Instead, he walked directly to the two men and shook their hands as if he had known them for eternity.

"Who are they?" I questioned.

"Quiet," she snapped, her blonde hair nearly hitting my face with the force of her hair flip.

"But-" I began before she shot me a stern glare.

"At least tell me when the train is arriving..." I mumbled.

A homeless woman sitting underneath the ticket box pointed to me with a shaky hand and began to repeat the words, "Les yeux fous."

From my limited amount of French I could tell the woman was saying something along the lines of 'crazy eyes'. Over the years I had gotten quite used to this treatment.

My gaze fell to the ground causing my hair to droop over my eyes. My mother began to twirl it between her fingers, a solemn expression in her eyes.

"Can you tell me now?" I asked, knowing I would surely just annoy her.

Her jaw tensed. "No talking."

I gazed upwards to see my dad trying to work something out with the two men. He looked a bit annoyed but he was still keeping his composure fairly calm.

A couple of minutes passed before my father finally finished speaking with them. He walked back over to us, pulled my mother aside, and whispered something in her ear. From the expression on her face, I could tell she was not pleased.

Her voice raised and I heard something along the lines of 'train', 'school', and 'only one'.

My dad stared her in the eyes and said something that seemed to calm her nerves. Then, their gazes fell on me. They both trudged towards me with a look on their faces showing that whatever they were about to say would not be good.

"Indiana, we have something to tell you," my mother began, a strangely calm look settling onto her face.

I unconsciously backed away from them.

"As we already told you we're catching a train. Except, do to some unforeseen circumstances it will only be you..." my father trailed off.

"What's that supposed to mean?!" I yelled, stumbling backwards.

"Remember when we told you we met in a boarding school," my mother reminded me.

"Well... yes," I replied slowly.

"You will be attending that school. You do not have a say in the matter," my dad barked, causing me to flinch at his tone.

"Last time I checked I have a say in what school I'm going to." I crossed my arms.

I've been homeschooling for the past three years, why the hell would I start school now?!

"Well, this time it's a bit different. It's not as if we don't want to give you a choice..." My mother broke eye contact glancing directly behind me.

"We don't have a choice either."

I realized what she was looking at too late as a large hand gripped around my wrist. I frantically peered upwards to see one of the two men.

"What is this?!" I yelled at my dad who couldn't make eye contact.

"You will be coming with us," the other man sneered. He had a thick accent that I couldn't quite place. It sounded a bit Russian but something was a little off about it.

"Let go of me!" I shrieked trying to tug my arm away, yet his grip was too strong.

"What the fuck is going on?!" I hollered as my parents began to walk away. Normally my mother would have scolded me for my language yet she didn't even spare a glance.

"Mom! Dad! Help me!" I screamed as they walked away, their fingers slowly intertwining. My mother glanced back only once a single tear falling from her eyes filling me with hope. Then she turned and continued walking leaving a cold and empty void in my chest.

"Help me!" I called out to the woman sitting underneath of the ticket box.

"Les yeux fous... Les yeux fous... Les yeux fous..."

"Mom!" I called out to no reply.

"Dad!" I attempted to punch the man with my free hand.

The other man immediately grabbed my left arm twisting it painfully behind my back.

"Somebody help me!"

My voice echoed down the deserted platform, the only noise the crazed muttering of the homeless woman.

"Somebody help," I whimpered.

My parent's shadows turned a street corner leaving my view of sight. I was left alone with the two unfamiliar men.

"Somebody help..." I repeated but it was barely a whisper as I felt a needle inject into my arm.

That was the last time I ever saw my parents.

. . .

. . .

. . .

My eyes fluttered open to the sun shining brightly through a window. I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I went to reach for my phone to check the time when my hand wouldn't move. I looked down in horror to see it was handcuffed to a seat.

I immediately panicked and observed my surroundings to see I was on a train going through the countryside. The cabin was small and the seats were made out of a red glossy wood. We were passing a large mountain range surrounded by a forest full of fur trees.

The events of last night rushed through my mind and I screamed out, "Help! Someone help me!"

I heard a "Hello?!" In response from what sounded like another girl. From what I could tell she had a French accent.

I stood up but my hand was still connected to the seat. At the end of the train car, I could barely see through the window into the next, but I could see enough to view a blob of red hair.

"Over here!" I called out.

The girls head turned and she attempted to stand her handcuffs dragging her back down to her seat. Her pale green eyes were filled with fear and her cheeks stained with tears.

"What's going on?!" she called out to me.

"I don't know!"

"We need to get out of here!" she shouted.

"I'm handcuffed!"

"Me too. There's another girl in the cabin next to me, she's still asleep!" she responded.

"I'm Indiana, what's your name?!" I asked.

"Lola, Lola Rousseau!"

Our conversation was interrupted by someone opening the door behind me. It was a different man this time. He was tall and lanky with dark skin, but his icy gray eyes stood out the most.

"Where are you taking us?" I asked, dangerously low.

He laughed and walked closer as I held my free hand in front of my face.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, love. Not yet at least," he drawled in a thick English accent.

"I said, where are you taking us?" I repeated sternly.

A smirk grew on his face as he replied, "I'm taking you to Bloodborne Academy, sweetheart."

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Hi guys, this is the first official chapter of Dancing With The Dead. I'm really excited for this book, and I hope you are too!

What was your favorite part? Mine was when she woke up on the train.

I don't want to be that one pushy author, but I do post quite a bit of updates on my account so it wouldn't hurt to follow. If you'd like another vampire story to read I have one by the name of Fae.

Thanks for reading! Don't forget to vote and comment! Comments let me know if you're enjoying the book.

Until next time...

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