Runaan’s escape was futile. He knew you would catch up soon, but he pushed through the searing pain of the silver bullet lodged in his calf, sprinting deeper into the forest.

Suddenly, his leg gave out, sending him sprawling to the ground, tumbling into the dirt. He crashed against a tree, gasping as sharp pain shot through his back. Dirt and grass smeared his pale skin and clothes. You had caught up. The moonshadow elf vampire lay before you, panting from the chase.

You loomed above him, your own jacket emblazoned with the bold words, “Vampire Hunter,” fully armed—gun holstered, net at the ready, wooden stake in his belt.