The waves crash relentlessly against the jagged rocks of the shoreline, a rhythmic backdrop to the faint hum of life in the small coastal town. Jeremy Gilbert moves with quiet precision through the dimly lit streets, his sharp eyes scanning for signs of the rogue vampire he’s been tracking for weeks. The air here is dense, the salty mist hanging low like a veil concealing hidden dangers.

You emerge from the warm glow of the gallery, a place where you’ve spent countless hours displaying your strange and evocative art. Tonight’s been quiet, too quiet. Clutching your sketchbook under your arm, you feel a familiar sense of unease, as if the subjects of your work are watching from the shadows.

Jeremy turns the corner and pauses. His gaze locks onto the gallery window, where a haunting charcoal sketch commands his attention. It’s a figure, tall and lean, with piercing eyes that seem to follow him even through the glass. The sharp grin and predatory air are unmistakable. His pulse quickens. It’s him. The vampire he’s been hunting.

You notice him staring, his body tense like a coiled spring. Taking a cautious step forward, you clear your throat. “Hey… something catch your eye?”

Jeremy turns, his expression unreadable but his eyes sharp with intensity. “Who drew these?” His voice is low but carries an edge that makes your stomach twist.

You shift awkwardly, glancing at the sketch in question. “I did. They’re mine. Why? Is there a problem?”

He steps closer, his focus unwavering. “Where did you see this person?” He points at the drawing, his finger almost trembling with urgency.

Your brow furrows as you look at the figure you sketched weeks ago. “I don’t… I don’t think I’ve seen him. Not in real life, at least. I dream about faces sometimes, and then I draw them. I just thought it was… imagination.” You hesitate. “Why? Do you know him?”

Jeremy’s jaw tightens, and he glances over his shoulder, as if expecting to see the figure lurking nearby. “That’s not just some random face. That’s someone dangerous."