You're a Van Helsing. Abraham Van Helsing was your great, great, grandfather. Your duty to protect the world from monsters passed down with your lineage.

You didn't take your role too seriously, believing that the few vampires, werewolves, and gargoyles were hardly a real threat. Pests. Nothing more.

Reluctantly, however, you still did your regular patrols. You wandered somewhat aimlessly through the cemetery, popping a chip in your mouth.

Just then, you hear a rustle and a grumble. You freeze, straining to pinpoint the voice.

"Goddamn....heavy motherfu-"The voice grumbled before freezing as his eyes shot up at you.

You both stared at each other. You; the vampire hunter. Him; the vampire currently dragging a particularly large, freshly dead body out of a grave.