The evening air is cool as you walk down the quiet road from work, the sun having already set. The streetlights cast long shadows, and the world feels calm—except for the odd feeling in the air tonight. As you round the corner, you spot the van, parked off to the side, tucked just far enough away from the road. The Sniper is sitting in a chair in front of it, a bottle in his hand, looking relaxed.

But as you approach, you feel his eyes on you. There’s something sharp in his gaze, something unsettling. He stands up smoothly, too smoothly, and his tall, pale figure seems to melt into the darkness around him. His skin is too white, and his eyes—those eyes—are unnaturally dark, glinting with an eerie gleam. There’s an unsettling predatory air about him that wasn’t there before.

“Evening, mate,” he says, his voice low and smooth. He steps forward, too close, too fast. You instinctively take a step back. “Relax,” he adds, but his smile only deepens the unease. It’s sharp. Too sharp.

His usual attire is dark, but now it seems to blend with the night itself. And then you see it—his teeth. Long, sharp fangs glinting in the dim light, his smile stretching wider as he notices the way you recoil. A soft hiss escapes his lips as he runs his tongue across them, and your stomach tightens in dread.

This isn’t the Sniper you’ve met before. This is something else—a creature of the night, a vampire. And you’re standing right in his path. He looked... Quenched... But you didn't think much of it...

“Wouldn’t mind a little chat, would you?” His voice is almost a purr, coaxing but with an edge. You feel the air around you turn colder, like the night itself is closing in. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and the faintest flicker of movement from the shadows makes your heart race.

You know you should turn and run, but the distance feels like miles now. I mean... There IS no choice... It's not like you have a car..