Smell of Blood

He had no idea how he had taken that way off the beaten road. His banger was climbing up with difficulty the desolate unpaved dirt track.
Now it was approaching mid night. Beside him in the car was his worried wife, shouting, “It’s you Michael! It’s because of you! You’ve told me that you know this shortcut and that this would save us half an hour until we reach home, and now it’s almost midnight, tell me how you’re going to get us out of this mess?
Silent, Michael looked at her, deep in thought. It is true that he had made a mistake when he decided to take that deserted way, but that was not to avoid a detour. He was rather driven by a vague queer feeling to take that track without hesitation. Now, he was approaching a two-store house. He was feeling that he had seen that house before. No, he was certain that he had seen it. He parked the car near the house.