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If someone were to tell a normal person that all the fairytale stories were true all along, that the supernatural lived among humanity all across the world in secret, they would most likely just laugh it off as another crazy person with an overactive imagination. After all, how could any sane person believe such superstitious stories and ramblings?

It was better for everyone to remain blissfully ignorant.

Adrian Daniels was simply a representative of one of many different organisations devoted to keeping the populace of the world safe and ignorant from the various dangerous beings that roam in the shadows. Naturally everyone had their own agendas and thoughts on how to approach this millennia-old debacle, while the beings of the night simply tried to survive in a world that rejected them long ago. The CIA had him fly across the pond to investigate and track down a rumour of a supposed vampire tearing it up in an uncomfortably overt fashion in York, of all places. The irony of a merciless killer terrorising a town in the UK wasn't lost on him.

Thankfully the top brass elected to notify the British government about this field trip, though the agent knew that the Vatican or even the FSB could potentially be tracking this killer as well.

Of the Vatican there was no doubt. As a former agent of the Church, he knew that they were likely in the area already. The thought had him checking his Colt hidden in a holster under his arm beneath his suit jacket, as well as the magnum caliber last resort. Not only did he have to worry about squaring up with a vampire, but he had to worry about his former colleagues as well. He had the advantage of not being entirely human, though he didn't want to take any chances on this job.

A quick and quiet catch, that was the job.

He spared a look around him for a moment. Despite the street being all but devoid of life, he had the constant feeling that someone was watching him.

Nikolas Bellon squinted at the words he'd written in the journal ages ago. His own handwriting in dim light made reading the Necronomicon seem easy. It was a sign of aging that he decided to ignore, like the whisps of silvery gray in his beard. Closing the leather-bound heap of papers and drawings, Nikolas sighed. It'd come down to memory, this one. Luckily vampires weren't the kind of monster you forgot easily.

The cold, brisk evening air brushed up against him as he stepped out of his car. He'd parked the old Ford Mustang right under a street lantern to read his notes. Now, in hindsight, he regretted not fixing the interior lighting. It was a stupid decision too, considering how much time he spent in that car at night.

He circled around the Mustang toward the back and opened the trunk, revealing the neatly arranged caskets and cases inside. He opened three. The first was a rectangular box that held a sleek dagger. Carnwennan, the dagger of King Arthur. It was one of the few weapons that broke the laws of the supernatural. It'd had come in his possession years ago, but he kept that hidden. The second box had 'vampire' scribbled on the side. It contained the classics. A stake and hammer, crucifix, holy water, and garlic he'd clearly left in there for too long. The last, he threw away.

On to the final box. It held a small rack of eight vials, of which he took one. It was the blood of a virgin. Over the years he'd learned that vampires - especially lesser ones - had an acquired taste for virgin's blood. If anything, it'd be a good lure. Distraction too, if it were a desperate one.

He stowed everything into his handbag except for the dagger, which he slid in his overcoat. Nikolas closed the trunk, locked the car, and didn't dwindle long. He had a vampire to exorcise in York. Preferably before the church arrived.

@KinkyPrawn

Living in York had its perks for a witch such as herself, especially in this quiet, cobbled corner of the city where time seemed to move a little slower. The ancient streets, with their winding alleys and the shadow of the towering Minster, offered just the right balance of charm and anonymity. It had been surprisingly easy to set up shop and build a modest business, tucked away in one of the less-travelled lanes. Blackthorn’s Antiquities & Oddities blended seamlessly with its surroundings, its weathered black wood facade as much a part of the street as the cobblestones beneath it.

Inside, shelves lined with dusty tomes, peculiar trinkets, and jars of unidentifiable herbs seemed to invite curiosity, though most customers chalked up her eclectic wares to eccentric taste rather than anything truly unusual. The locals, however, had their own way of making things memorable. They’d taken to calling her the Lady of Old Wood, a name born of the shop’s unmistakable exterior. It started as a harmless jest, but it lingered, whispered in passing or used warmly in greetings.

To them, it was quaint, even endearing. To her, it was ironic—a veiled nod to the very secret she so carefully concealed behind those creaking doors. But in a city like York, steeped in its own layers of history and mystery, such things had a way of slipping beneath notice. For now, the quiet corner and its curious clientele suited her just fine.

The streets were empty, the soft glow of the street lamps pooling onto the cobblestones as dusk settled over the city. Nerissa was in the process of closing up Blackthorn's Antiquities & Oddities for the day, the faint jingle of the bell above the door marking the last few trips in and out as she tidied the threshold. Her black cat, ever her shadow, sat patiently by her feet, languidly grooming its sleek fur without a care in the world.

Perched on her shoulder, a European Eagle Owl watched with sharp, unblinking eyes, its head swivelling silently as it scanned the empty streets for unseen movement. The weight of it was familiar, comforting even, like an old friend keeping guard as she secured the final latch. The windows of the shop, framed in weathered black wood, reflected little more than the dimming sky and the faint flicker of light from within.

With one last glance at the quiet street, Nerissa pulled her heavy cloak tighter around her shoulders and turned the key in the lock. The subtle click seemed louder in the stillness, a final punctuation mark to the day. She whispered something—soft, inaudible—her fingers tracing a faint sigil onto the wood, before stepping away.

The cat fell into step beside her as she moved down the lane, the owl’s talons flexing gently on her shoulder, a watchful sentinel as the shadows began to deepen.

Making her way down the cobblestone street, she had the weird sense of being watched and it didn't help that both her familiars also acted up, looking around them as she turned to a larger cobblestone street, though no less empty.

@KinkyPrawn @MightyHorus

The stench attacked his senses, filling his nostrils with a fiery sensation. The air tasted like rot, and coldness rippled on the surface of his copper skin. A vampire was on the loose. His favourite creature of the night to hunt. Floyd Landry, the nomadic child of the moon found himself in York, England - having spent the past few days tracking this vampire and the trail of missing bodies it had left in its wake. Ever since Floyd had received his "great gift", he rejected his beastial nature and clung on to the man within him with a vice-like grip. Refusing to lose himself, he dedicated himself to become a force for good - to use his curse against those that would harm others.

Perched atop a small and weathered building, a relic of this nation's long history. Floyd's head lifted toward the starless sky, sniffing for a trace of his ancient rival. The four scars drawn across his chest itched, the wolf could sense its time was near - time to face its competition as the apex predator.

The corner of Floyd's left lipped curled into a smirk, licking his lips he bared his fanged teeth in a toothy grin. For once, himself and the wolf were in agreement. Floyd felt the rythm of his heart accelerate and the surface of his skin warm over, combatting the cold effects of the vampire's scent on his senses.

Recalling the memory of his last encounter with a vampire, the details were hazy but his other senses remembered vividly. The ice cold sensation of its blood splattered on his fur, his claws tearing its flesh apart like mache paper, the toughness of its heart between his razor-like teeth. The rush of going to war with an adversary so intrisic to the core of his nature filled him with a rush of excitement he rarely felt since he contracted his affliction.

Returning himself to the moment, to his hunt. Floyd's glowing eyes lingered to the cobbled street below, his ears picking up on the echo of footsteps approaching the empty street. He steadily listened to the rythm of the approaching individual's heart and tuned his nose to their scent. Female, no older than 25. She wasn't his prey, but... her blood wasn't human... it smelled ancient.

@KinkyPrawn @MightyHorus @Posh Raven

It didn't take long for Adrian to notice the gorgeous Ford Mustang parked down the road from him, along with its mysterious owner. He couldn't get a good look at the man, but he did notice the unmistakable glimmer of a blade and a crucifix in the dim light of the street lamps. Not exactly something a person in England would carry for general self defense, and that was ignoring the car.

A faint smile took hold as the agent calmly made his way over to the man. No reason to not make some allies for this hunt, it would make his own job a hell of a lot easier. As he approached the stranger, he adjusted his tie and tugged his suit jacket closed. "Hey there." He spoke up. "Sorry for intruding, but I couldn't help but notice the stunning beauty you got here." He gestured to the Mustang with a cool grin.

"Perhaps you could help me out with something." He pulled out his badge and held it up for the man to see. "I'm currently lookin' for someone specific. Looks like you might be looking for him as well." He continued with a hand gliding along the fender of the classic car.

He needed to get one for himself as well.

His train of thought was interrupted by a lone woman with a curious selection of pets walking along the road. He put his current harassment of the hunter on hold as he turned to study the woman. "Hey, miss! You better get home quick. There's a dangerous suspect in the area." He cautioned her.

@AfroBandit23 @Posh Raven @MightyHorus