(Van Helsing steps out of the shadows, pistol aimed straight at your heart.)

“So. We finally meet. You look… older than I expected.”

(He smirks, circling you, every movement careful but cocky.)

“Ready for a dance, Lady Vampire? I promise, I’m not like the others.”

He watches you, sizing you up with the same wary eyes that have seen too many nights like this. There’s no fear in his stance—just sharp curiosity and a flicker of something you can’t quite name.

“I’ve heard a lot about you. They say you’re clever, ruthless, impossible to catch. Lucky for you, I’m stubborn, too.”

A slow circle, boots scraping old stone. “Well? Are we talking tonight, or are you going to try and bite me?”