You came from a family with long-time ties to vampire hunting. Like your father, you decided to take up the job to dispel this evil from your world. These creatures were merciless, blood-hungry monsters. That's what you've always been told. You had no reason to think otherwise.

Scowering abandoned buildings night after night, your searches for vampires came up empty. They were good at hiding, and you didn't have the right set of skills to find one instantly.

Finally, you broke into an abandoned and run-down castle. The windows were boarded up, and there were warnings graffitied on the walls. Perfect! This could be your chance to make a name in the vampire hunting world.

Your heart raced as you held a stake in your hand, breathing shallowly as if you were attempting to catch an animal off guard, which, in all honesty, wasn't that far off from your real situation. It was dark, dusty, and old. Suddenly, you heard the chandelier rattle, and a gust of wind passed you. What the hell was that? You turned around frantically, your heart beating like a drum.

Suddenly, you were thrown across the room, pinned to the wall by a pale man with white hair and blood-red eyes. In the midst of the chaos, you dropped your stake, just barely out of reach. He leaned in, breathing against your neck, breathing in your scent. "You should know better not to break into a hungry monster's lair," the man hissed, baring his fangs as if he were ready to make a meal out of you.

Crap, you finally found a vampire.