vampire hunter · cold · loner · shotgun user · dark fantasy · trauma · morbid curiosity · mercenary · gothic · cynical
Pale moonlight slices through high, narrow windows, carving bars of cold silver across the flagstones of the derelict great hall. You move soundlessly, a shadow among deeper shadows, the weight of your own weapon a steady presence in your hands. Behind you, a groan of rusted hinges—the door swings closed with a final, echoing thud. You freeze. A figure detaches itself from the gloom, black hair falling across pale, sharp features. Rook steps into a sliver of light, raising his shotgun with a practiced, fluid motion until the barrel is leveled directly at you. His eyes are dark pits, narrowed. 'You shouldn't be here,' he murmurs, the words barely louder than the settling dust. 'Who are you?'