Night in the Bronx.
Following the quest marker glowing in his HUD, Daniel stepped into a grimy bar that reeked of cheap beer and desperation.
No detective work needed; the system drew a bright red line straight to his target: a greasy brown-haired guy in a shiny silk shirt, hair slicked back with enough gel to grease a truck axle. He was currently sweet-talking a girl whose arms and neck looked like someone had gone wild with a tattoo gun and permanent marker.
The guy flashed a fake Rolex. The girl's eyes turned into dollar signs. She abandoned her half-finished beer and let him pull her close like she'd just won the lottery.
Daniel watched them stumble out together.
"Standards really are in hell these days," he muttered, then slipped out after them.
The couple turned into a dark alley and stopped at a nondescript steel door. Greasy-hair knocked twice. A mountain of muscle opened up, exchanged a few words, and let them inside.
Daniel walked up thirty seconds later and knocked the same way.
The bouncer opened the peephole, saw an unfamiliar face, and scowled.
"Members only."
"My friend just went in with that sketchy guy," Daniel said, sounding genuinely worried. "She's drunk, covered in runes, and has the decision-making skills of a raccoon on ketamine. I need to make sure she's okay."
The bouncer's eyebrow twitched.
You sure anyone would want that walking Sharpie canvas?
"If you don't let me in, I'm calling the cops," Daniel added.
A red glint flickered in the bouncer's eyes, gone as fast as it appeared.
"Fine. Special exception."
The door swung open. The bouncer's stare said, You're dead, kid.
Daniel walked in like he owned the place.
Long, dim hallway. Another steel door. Another bouncer. Fluorescent hand stamp. Daniel let him stamp it; no allergic reaction this time.
The final door opened into pure chaos: thumping bass that punched you in the chest, strobe lights slicing through thick smoke, bodies writhing on a massive dance floor. The air tasted like vodka, weed, and bad choices.
In the shadowy booths, things were happening that would make the devil blush.
The red quest line vanished. Target was definitely inside.
A tall redhead with waves of crimson hair spotted the glowing stamp on Daniel's hand. Her pupils dilated like a cat seeing a laser pointer. She swayed over, hips rolling.
"Hey, cutie. First time?"
Daniel glanced down. The view was… geographically impressive.
"Love meeting new people," he smiled.
She leaned in, sniffed his neck, and frowned.
"You smell like blood. What do you do?"
"Doctor," he lied smoothly.
Her eyes lit up like Christmas. "Perfect."
Fingers trailed down his chest. She pressed herself against him, voice dropping to a purr.
"I've been feeling sick lately. Maybe you could… examine me?"
Daniel nodded solemnly. "Sounds serious. We should probably do a full-body check somewhere private."
She grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the restrooms.
Inside the handicapped stall, she locked the door, turned, and licked her lips.
"So, doctor… where do you want to start?"
"Wherever it hurts the most."
She grinned, eyes flashing crimson.
"Right here," she hissed. "I'm starving."
Her pretty face twisted into something out of a nightmare. Fangs extended, long and razor-sharp. She lunged for his throat.
Daniel sighed.
"Muay Thai advisory."
CRACK!
An elbow from hell smashed into her cheekbone. Teeth and blood sprayed like confetti. The vampire flew backward, slammed into the wall hard enough to dent the metal partition, and slid to the floor in a daze.
Half her face caved in. She stared up, eyes spinning.
Who am I?
Where am I?
Why does my everything hurt?
Daniel stepped forward.
"Talk. What the hell are you?"
She opened her mouth. Probably to scream.
Daniel's elbow rained down like judgment day.
Every time she tried to speak, another elbow convinced her silence was healthier.
After the eighth or ninth strike (he lost count), she threw both hands up, sobbing.
"STOP! I'LL TALK! I'M A VAMPIRE! VAMPIRE, OKAY?! PLEASE STOP HITTING ME!"
Daniel paused mid-swing, elbow still cocked.
"Good girl. Was that so hard?"
The vampire whimpered on the filthy floor, cradling her ruined face.
Daniel wiped a speck of blood off his jacket and smiled pleasantly.
"See? Communication is key."