Most consider moving a new challenge, something to be worked for, something to take with either pride or pity. That was not the case this time. Tragedy had struck in this home, once warmed by a sunny smile and steady hands. The house wasn't small, no the previous owners had worked hard to keep the four-bedroom home. In fact, he remembered when his father came to their cramped apartment with the keys, practically glowing. A strange mix of disgust and nostalgia were present in 2313 Briar Road.

Xavier Reynolds didn't want to be here, directing the last of his belongings into the home of his parents. He didn't want to come back to Briar Road. He hated this neighborhood, and the community that had built itself around it.

Not that he had a choice. He had been forced to move into this home, or risk losing everything thanks to the entrapment of his parent's wills. Dennis and Dora Reynolds had very specific directions for when they died: he had to stay here for a minimum of a year, before he could legally sell the house, or access the money his parents had left him.

Most of his friends thought he was doing it for the money, hell he partly was. But most of him was curious. At twenty-four, he hoped that his independence would be able to continue. He had a decent job, a small, but homey apartment, and his own life. Xavier would never admit that he was only here to see what had bound his parents to this place.

He felt a shiver crawl down his spine, ignoring it the best he could. This house had been where his parents were murdered less than a month ago, and yet, if he wanted to understand his family, his mother's words, he had to stay here.

No one knew that he had turned down his inheritance several times before giving in. No one knew that he wanted something more from his life than this house could offer. And yet, he was curious.

He vaguely remembered his neighbors, and yet, he knew that this place was in his blood. Why did he care? Why did he have to know what had been left for him at the end of this road? Why had he forced himself into this mess?

Maybe it was for his mother, the beautiful soft woman that she had been. Maybe it was for his father, the unbroken man of his childhood, who had finally fallen. Maybe it was for his little brother, Nathan, who had become just another dead body on Briar Road. Whatever the case was, this place was his new home for the next while.

He carefully laid a box on the ground, unpacking the essentials that would make the next few years possible. Some things were silly, like the wind chime he had gotten from New Mexico years ago, or a throw blanket he found in a shop near his apartment in New York.

It was funny, he mused as he held the wind chime up, flicking one of the glass pieces so that it danced for him, that such items could be considered home. He stood on shaking legs, one hand reaching for the support of the wall while the other brushed his light blonde hair from his grey eyes.

His eyes flickered to a spot on the ground with a grimace. He needed new flooring, considering this was where his father had been surprised, the back room, almost a garage of sorts. The stone floor was still littered with his father's blood.

There was so little he knew, and even less of that made sense. His father had been stabbed here, his mother had been strangled on the staircase, yet his little brother was shot in the head while in the bathroom.

Why kill his family? Why not just shoot all of them, or stab all of them? Why kill all of them differently?

To the police, his family, his parents and little brother were simply victims number 8, 9, and 10. He didn't want to know which was which.

He let out a breath of annoyance, trying to figure out the best way to add in his things, without taking down his parent's things. Eventually, he would end up selling most of it, but it would be too awkward now.

Another shiver went down his spine. It felt like someone was watching him. He could be being guarded by the police, but he doubted it. No one knew today was the day he moved in the last of his stuff. He could be being spied on by his neighbors, possibly a few that were still around from when he was a kid.

Xavier had done what most kids had only dreamed of and had left Briar Road almost as soon as he turned 18. He had managed to escape this place six years prior and hoped to never look back.

He sighed again, knowing that people would be coming by soon. As much as he hated to admit it, his parents were rather notorious members of their neighborhood. He had no doubt that if the police looked hard enough, they could find some illegal actions on his parent's part.

He hoped that Nathan hadn't been pulled into it, but Vier had no doubt that his parents had probably manages to tick off the wrong people.

Unlike most children, Xavier had spent his childhood trying to keep his nose out of his parent's business. From as early as he could remember, he had known that those who lived in their neighborhood were both terrified and in awe of his parents. He didn't know why, nor did he want to.

He didn't want to get pulled into that kind of life, he just wanted to keep his head down and to be done with this year. Yes, he was curious, but not enough to actually investigate anything. He truly didn't want to know, especially if there was a reason behind the murders.

A sharp cry made his body stiffen. He headed upstairs, where a little girl, only fourteen months old, was laying on his bed. The toddler had his silvery blonde hair that had been a light brown at her birth, and her mother's icy blue eyes.

He rushed over to her, letting her cling to him as she sobbed heavily on him. He didn't have to ask about her dream. He already knew. It was the same dream his little moon had for the last two months, he was sure of that.

Lunette had been in her mother's arms when his wife, Eliza, had died. She had only been twenty-two years old, but her heart had always been weak. As a child, she had to have an artificial valve placed, and had been born with a hole in her heart.

He had been at school, exhausted from the double load of full time classes and a full-time job, when she died. If Vier had been there, she might have lived. As it was, Lunette had been alone for almost three hours with her mother's body.

Neither of them had known that Eliza was pregnant with their second child, just over four months with a little boy. When Eliza's heart had given out, their little boy hadn't had a chance. Not only had he buried his wife, but he had to bury his second born. He hadn't told Lunette about her brother, knowing that she wasn't old enough to really understand.

She hadn't slept a full night since. Sometimes, she woke up screaming for her mom, but he was all that was left. Eliza had been very distant from her parents, both of whom blamed him for her death. Vier wasn't exactly close to his family either.

So, he had decided to finish school online, and work online as well. He spent practically every minute he could with his daughter. When she was asleep, he was either working on a program for a client or working on school work.

For Lunette, he would work as hard as he could to make sure she had the best life that he could give her.

He pet her hair, and picked her up easily, resting her weight on his hip. He headed back downstairs to the box he had been working on. Once they were downstairs, he picked up the wind chime again, and moved towards the front door to place it outside.

He would make this place a good home for his daughter, and for her, he would put up with being here.