The shadows and my work are all the company I can allow myself. My life is won't allow that. I can't allow anyone else to be sucked into my hell. No matter how desperately I want someone else in my life. Someone to help me face my inner demons. Someone to be a beam of light cutting through my darkness.
I am The Nightprowler. Through the years, my jod has been called many things. Hunter of the Damned, Demon Slayer and, Stalker of the Super-natural, to name a few. Now I am know as an 'Occult Invetigator'. You'd be surprized how much of a call there is for me. Even in this day and age when man depends more on technology then the arcane. Vampires, Werewolves and the ilk, still walk amongst us. Look around. One of them could be standing next to you. They could even be your best friend.
I exist to fight these creatures of night and evil. This is my job and my duty. The forces of night and evil created me and now, I shall destroy them."
The man, known as The Nightstalker, closed the brown, leather bound, book and set it on the shelf. "I need a drink." He spoke to no one as he stood up and walked to the closet. The door opened with a small creak. He pulled out, and put on his shoulder holster and gun. Then he pulled out a pitch black, leather duster. He grabbed a wooden 'cane' and walked out of his office and outside.
The moon was out and full. From the pocket of his duster, The Nightstalker pulled out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. He walked for a few short blocks and arrived outside of a club. He entered, ignoreing the stares and snickers of the patrons.
He leaned his cane against the bar and pulled up a stool.
A bartender walked over to him. "Jon. What brings you here?"
"The desire to get drunk." the Nightstalker replied, his voice devoid of emotion.
The bartender swallowed. "The usual then?"
Jon nodded. He and the bartender go back a bit. A few years ago, the Noghstalker saved the bartender as a werewolf was moments away from making him into dinner. Ever since, the bar tender had been keeping his ears open for sighs of the Occult and those looking to hire Jon.
"Heard anything."
The bartneder shook his head.
"Fuck. Rent's coming due and I'm almost broke."
"Sorr.."
Jon cut him off. "Shut up and get my beer."
The bartender swalled and fetched the beer.
Back to the Realm of Sanctuary
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