Present Day
Salt Blake City never slept.
But what kept it awake wasn't neon or nightlife — it was the screams echoing through its alleys, where monsters feasted in silence.
To most, they were urban legends.
To Kimberly, they were tonight's workload.
Rain slashed through the alley like silver blades. Thunder swallowed the sound of footsteps — almost. A young man stumbled, terrified, slipping through the mud. Behind him, light footsteps… and a hungry laugh.
"Run, little mouse," a vampire teased, her crimson eyes glowing in the dark.
"I love when you still think you have hope."
He turned a corner — and hit a dead end. No escape.
Her grin widened, fangs glinting in the rain.
"What a waste of time," she hissed.
But before she could strike, something whistled through the air — a sharp crack.
A silver round embedded itself in the ground between them, sparking blue.
The vampire snarled. "Who dares—"
A shadow dropped from above — boots splashing against wet asphalt.
A woman with untamed red hair landed effortlessly, her crimson coat whipping in the wind, she wore a black bodysuit with a plunging neckline and a red pendant around her neck, black pants with holsters fitted between the belt and thighs, and reinforced black boots.
"Evening, princess of the night," she said, resting a chrome pistol on her shoulder.
"Don't you think it's a little late for dinner?"
"Who the hell are you?" the vampire growled.
Kimberly twirled her finger around the trigger, bored.
"Someone who hates freeloaders."
The vampire lunged — fast as lightning.
Kim didn't flinch. One shot. Then another.
She moved with sharp precision, dodging claws and countering with kicks and gunfire, until an opening revealed itself.
"Bingo," she muttered.
The bullet burst in azure flames, piercing the creature's chest.
The vampire screamed — and dissolved into dust.
Silence fell again.
Only rain — and the pounding heart of the terrified boy.
Kim blew smoke off the barrel and glanced at the ashes.
"Vampires... always thinking they own the night."
"T-t-thank you... w-who are you?" the boy stammered.
Kim smirked, shoving her hands into her coat pockets.
"Relax, kid. It's not charity."
She walked off.
At the corner, before disappearing into the rain, she tossed her words over her shoulder:
"Next time someone looks too easy to flirt with, think twice."
Moments later, Kimberly leaned against her motorcycle and tapped her earpiece.
"One more job done. If they paid bonuses for how dirty these gigs get, I'd be rich by now."
A crackle of static — and Roberto's voice, half-buried under the sound of typing.
"Relax, Kim. I just transferred your cut. Should be enough for at least one pizza — no discount this time."
"Oh, big spender," she said with an eye roll.
"Remind me to tip you someday... or not."
Their base was hidden beneath Blood's Bar, a decaying dive run by Preston — a man with a shady past but loyal heart.
Behind a dusty jukebox lay a secret door, leading down to a crimson-lit workshop filled with weapons, armor, and glowing monitors.
In one corner sat Roshi, the grumpy old man with a white headband, sharpening blades in silence.
Nearby, Mandy, with bronze skin, black hair streaked with pink, and a flair for drama, adjusted a leather jacket stitched with faint runes.
And in the center, Roberto, messy blond hair, blue eyes, surrounded by screens — eating fries while typing like a man possessed.
"Well, look who showed up," Mandy said, holding up the jacket.
"Kim, darling — your new gear. Enchanted leather. Fireproof, cut-proof, and maybe — maybe — sarcasm-proof."
Kim snorted. "If it survives my humor, it's worth more than gold."
Roshi didn't look up.
"Armor won't save you. The blade is an extension of the soul — not a fashion statement."
"Chill, gramps," Kim teased. "When I die, you can have my boots."
"Before this turns into a dysfunctional family meeting," Roberto cut in, "we've got a contract."
A video window popped up — a rich man's face filled the screen, sweating behind a silk tie.
"Miss Kimberly, I'm having… incidents in Wadron City. My facilities on the border are under attack. People say it's an animal, but I know better. Handle it — discreetly. Payment will be generous."
Kim arched a brow. "Generous? Better be more than pizza this time."
Roshi crossed his arms. "Rich men covering up monsters? That smells like trouble."
Mandy smirked. "Or another night of fun."
Kim holstered her guns, grabbed her sword, and took a quick swig of whiskey from the bar.
"Wadron City, here I come."
The neighboring city was brighter — wide streets, expensive shops, and colorful lights.
But beneath the surface, the scent of blood ran strong.
It led her to an abandoned warehouse.
The air was thick. Something big was inside.
A rumble.
Then claws scraped concrete.
Golden eyes glowed in the dark — a massive werewolf emerged, fur gray and matted, fangs gleaming beneath the moonlight.
Kim grinned, twirling her sword.
"Perfect. I needed a workout."
The battle erupted in chaos — claws against steel, walls shattering, bullets ricocheting.
Kim moved like a dancer, dodging blows and countering with blazing precision, each strike echoing through the night.
"Pretty fast for a stray mutt," she taunted, driving her blade into its shoulder.
The beast roared, forcing her back — then shifted, half-human, half-wolf, speaking in a ragged voice:
"This... is only the beginning..."
Kim gasped — a glowing mark burned across its chest, a circle of interwoven runes.
"Shit... The Circle of the Night!?"
The creature's dying laugh filled the air before turning to ash.
Kim stood among the ruins, rain dripping from her blade, the mark still seared into her mind.
"Great," she muttered. "Things just got serious."
She pressed her earpiece.
"Roberto, job's done. Tell the fat cat it's handled — but when I get back, I've got something to show you."
Roberto's cheerful voice came through.
"Got it! Guess that means... weekend Feijoada's on!"
And so ended another night for the hunter.
But this time, something darker had begun to stir — the shadow of an ancient order rising once more.