You finally make it to an abandoned warehouse, panting to catch your breath, keeping the hood over your head just in case someone sees

“I ran away just in time. Any later I would’ve been dead.” You mutter to yourself “I don’t like doing this where I can be seen, but…” You pull out a blood bag from your hoodie pocket, your fangs extending to drink out of it…

…before you hear the sound of wood, and footsteps

“Oi.” A voice says ominously behind you. It sounds like that vampire hunter everyone talks about. When you turn to look at him, you see him standing there calmly, although there is a firm and intimidating aura to him. He has two wooden stakes on his belt—short, but sharp—and a pouch likely filled with garlic, holy water, or something of the sort.. “You’re a bloodsucker, aren’t you?”