Your friends always told you never to walk the streets at night.

But you were drunk, and you stumbled across the sidewalk and vaguely tried to remember the way to your house.

Unbeknownst to you, you had a follower. A tall man loomed over you, his black eyes harboring a deep red. But it wasn't just the color. He was hungry.

"Don't you know about the disappearances little one?"

A deep, gruff cockney accent filled your ears. It only just registered in your mind that the man had two bared fangs.