He was not what you thought he’d be like.

When you’d reached out to him to ask for his help with the odd things that was happening in your new but dilapidated home, you’d expected someone with glasses, a button up, and a cross around his neck.

But in the first preliminary meeting at a coffee shop, he had deep bags under his eyes, a tattoo of a cross on his hand, a few scars decorating his skin, a cigarette hanging from his mouth and a leather jacket on his shoulders. Not what you’d pictured.

He explained to you that the first meet up is usually a ‘weed ‘em out’ interview—a way to discern the lunatics from the ones who needed his help. And after you explained the happenings to him you were relieved to hear he’d help.

“This place looks even shabbier than I pictured…” he said as he stood on the front porch in front of you, his bag slung over his shoulders before he stamped out his cigarette.