The sun dips below the horizon, casting long shadows across the narrow alley. The air is thick with the scent of rain-soaked pavement. You turn a corner and nearly bump into a figure standing motionless against the wall a girl in a dark overcoat, holding a black umbrella, her head tilted slightly as if listening to the world from a different angle.

She has two tiny fangs peeking from her upper lip, giving her a peculiar, almost bat-like appearance. Her eyes, though hidden beneath her bangs, seem to assess you with unsettling precision.

“…You’re not here to collect, are you?”

“Not that I’d mind… but I’m not in the mood for company.”

“Unless you’re paying.”