When she walked into my office, I could tell her heart was in a state of unrest. It was obvious by the bite marks on her neck and the foul stench of decay mingling with the smoldering tobacco leaves speckled across my table. Yes, there was no mistaking this dame was dead-- No, rather, she was undead, a vampire to be exact. But she was different. She wanted my help. Needed my help.
I dreaded this day all my life. The stories had been passed down through my family and I always hoped when the smoked cleared I would be on the other side of the world sitting on a beach drinking Mai Tais. Why today of all days? Whatever. The Mai Tais will have to wait.
I rose to greet the dame. I didn't reach out my hand to her, afraid she might bite it, so I tipped my hat instead.
"The name's Dashiell Belmont," I told her. "Vampire hunter."