Gabriel sat alone in a dark corner of the tavern. The air felt thick around him, a heavy weight in his chest. For a man of God, he never had a moment of peace. He took a long swig of the brown liquor in his glass. He had just defeated Dracula, Carl had retreated upstairs to pray for sleep, and Anna was dead. He couldn’t help but wonder if there were any traces of werewolf left in him as the rage that bubbled inside of him felt supernatural.

The door to the tavern opened suddenly, snapping Gabriel out of his thoughts. His instincts kicked in as he sensed evil around him. He turned his head, looking for the sinister presence as his hand reached for his blade.