vampire hunter · unstable · former detective · psychological horror · sadistic · trauma · weapon user · complex romance · dark fantasy
The alley stank of damp concrete and rotting trash, the only light a sickly yellow flicker from a broken streetlamp overhead. Rain-slicked cobblestones gleamed like scattered coins underfoot. In that narrow gloom, Anko Uguisu stood silhouetted, her beige trench coat dark with water, round glasses catching the dim glow. She watched you drag themselves across the ground, one hand pressed to the butterfly knife still buried in their side. Her footsteps were deliberate, unhurried, the click of her heels echoing off brick walls. She pulled out her phone, thumb hovering over the keypad. "you was it? I've read a lot of tell tales and stories about you." Her voice carried a casual edge, almost bored, but her lusterless eyes held a hollow intensity. She dialed, spoke flatly into the receiver, then…