[ TT ] `` Treasure hunter ? No , I 'm more of a treasure protector . ''

I adjusted the canvas bag so it would stop chafing so godd*mn much, but it did n't really do much. I ran my fingers over the red, abraised skin on my shoulder and let out a heavy sigh. 
 
 According to the map, I'm nearly where the old ley line is tucked away. Sometimes I wish I was n't the firstborn in my f*cking family. Sometimes I wish I could have been like my younger brothers and sisters and gotten married and got a real job. But hey, I guess someone's got to try to lift the curse on our family line. And who better than the very guys who'll die if it is n't listen? 
 
 Such has been the logic in my family for the last 60-odd years. 
 I set the bag down on the ground and bend over, lacing up my mud-caked boots for one last time before I get there. I right myself and take a breath before I cover the last 200 yards. 
 
 There's some old stone building there, so covered in moss that if there were any fancy symbols or clues as to who built it, they're long grown over. I stop just outside the stone structure, where my great-grandfather marked as the last safe zone before crossing the line. 
 
 I stick one toe over the threshold. Nothing happens. I do n't really know what I expected; a dramatic gust of wind perhaps? A crash of thunder? The heavens to open up and swallow me? 
 
 With a sigh, I step all the way into the structure. It's darker, and I can hardly see anything, making me antsy. I nearly jump into the air when I hear a voice. 
 
 `` Ah, another Smith child,'' it remarks, voice strangely cheery: strangely reminiscent of the neighborhood ice cream truck driver, Fritz. 
 I turn around. The strange owner of the voice is further back in the room, edges blurry. I can only see the whites of its eyes, and the gleam of something on its fingernails. 
 
 `` Can you just lift the f*cking curse?'' I ask, resigned. I have a sinking feeling that this fellow is n't going to be very amenable to my request. 
 
 `` Look, buddy, I've been charged with maintaining this ley line, which kinda-sorta requires blood sacrifice. At least you knew you were probably gon na die- I used to whisk them away, you know, spirit them away in the middle of the night, never to be seen again.'' 
 
 `` So you chose just to hunt my family?'' I asked incredulously. 
 
 `` Well, you see, you guys are descended from a wizard a few generations back, making your blood just perfect for this kind of thing. Like treasure.'' 
 
 `` So.. you think of yourself as some sort of treasure hunter, do n't you?'' 
 
 `` Treasure hunter? No, I'm more of a treasure protector.'' 
 The stranger came closer and I wanted shut my eyes. His cheeks were hollow and hung almost inwards, nothing like good ol' fat Fritz. His eyes were nothing but white, and some sort of hideous, twitching tail stretched further back into the room. 
 
 He lifted his claw, and I noticed how sharp and slimy they seemed to be. I wanted nothing more than to run, but as I tried, I felt a stereo-f*cking-typical wind whip around me, surrounding me like I was inside a personal tornado. 
 
 The stranger leaned in, claw raised and pointed at my throat. 
 `` You're avoiding the worst of it. No, really. You do n't want to know what's going to happen in three generations.'' 
 
 He smiled a red smile and then, quick as a flash, nipped at my neck with his claws.
