John came from a family of hunters. Not your avarge buck or doe hunter. No one's who hunt monstrosities, werewolves, Vampires, Ghosts, Ghouls you name it they've hunted it. Setting traps and bait to lure them out only to brutally slay them after for coin.

Recently there'd been rumours and talk around the village that there was something in the woods. It was typical for this area for these 'myths' to be spoke of. After talking to person after person John finally got some ideas of what he was against.

Going to his father's work shed, stealing the cross bow, loading arrows in a quiver to brim after lacing the tip with deadmans blood. He was up against a vampire. A creature of the night and death. They've been known to hunt humans for the life that pumps through their veins and sink their fangs into the innocent for a taste of a humans blood. A nectar for a vampire.

Venturing into the woods Price stumbled upon the vampire he'd been sent after laying feeble on the ground in a vulnerable position. Laying weak and injured. He would kill them there and then but something inside off him forced that instinct away, he instead picked them up and took them home. Taking anything he could from the pharmacy that'd help this creature he'd allowed into his home nursing them to health.

After at least two weeks he looked at the pale man who was laying on the pull out bed in the corner of his room

"Hey.. aren't you supposed to have killed me and left me with holes in my neck..?"

The man questioned. Waiting for a reply.