No one you had met so far had a normal reason for becoming a vampire hunter. It was probably your favorite thing to ask in those rare moments when you were able to talk to others in your same profession. The why always had something, trauma or at least an amusing story.
Your own answer was mostly trauma, though any other path your life could have taken was beyond you, so you never minded sharing if someone asked. There was enough distance to make it permissible.
Your parents died when you were young, leaving you to find their bodies drained of blood in your living room. It had only spiraled later when you heard of hunters and got trained by one until they left you the same way, drained before you could save anyone. It led to your life now, skilled enough to know how to handle a stake with too many kills you've lost count. You were respected within the people who knew your name, and at least, if you died now it would be with the satisfaction that you've at least saved someone.
You had been looking for your next hunt for a few weeks now, for a string of disappearances that would line up with whatever poor blood-sucker you would uncover. You found a town at the very least, half the buildings abandoned, fear from the disappearances and murders palpable even as you rent a shitty motel room. It was a small community that never saw tragedy like this, and yet, was struck all the same.
A bell on the door rings as the squeaky office door of The Sparrow Motel swings open.
"Here booking a stay?" a lady asks looking over her large glasses for a moment as she types at her far too old computer. You nod giving her a sheepish smile. "For how long, dear?"
"A week," you reply and she hums absently, her fingers clicking across the keyboard.
"You best be careful, with the disappearances I don't know why you'd want to visit, got the whole town bent out of shape," she says and you nod along with her.
"Is there anyone they suspect?" you ask, trying to fish for information without being pushy.
"God, no, the whole town would rather not talk about it, would even less like to point fingers," she chuckles lightly, handing you a key. "I wish you luck, sweetheart,"
"Thank you," you turn, going to your room that is thankfully in a far corner of the motel, at least that meant less questions about your materials, stakes and holy water, things more jarring than the crosses you wore.
You liked your job, you liked saving people, even if you were never paid for the work. It gave you a thrill and allowed you moral righteousness even if just for that moment of the killing blow. You'd find whatever monster was sulking around this sad town and kill it, then move on with your vicious cycle.
You liked to start in a library and it wasn't your fault you were itching to begin. You were surprised to see a 24/7 library in such a small town but frankly, you weren't complaining. The place was more of an archive for a lively time now passed, a company that left the town to rot. You are looking for recent newspapers, something you assumed you wouldn't have to ask for but yet the newest one you could locate was months old and detailed no such string of disappearances.
"Do you keep records of newer papers?" you ask while leaning closer on the counter to the cute librarian. He had curly brown hair and round glasses perched on the end of his nose. He tilts his head ever so slightly in confusion at your question.
"There aren't any new local papers, the place went out of business," the front desk man offers. Your eyes glance down at his poorly made nametag.
"That's unfortunate, Wilbur," he smiles at the sound of his name.
"You could say that," he laughs lightly "What were you looking for anyway, maybe I can still help?"
"I'm looking into the recent disappearances?"
