[h1][center][b][color=007236]Hank Miller[/color][/b][/center][/h1]

A figure wearing a heavy trench coat, body armor, and a military grade gas mask walked into the [i]Abandoned[/i] warehouse. People have been going missing from the local town for weeks now. Hank figured it was a vampire trying to find a steady blood supply, or a human who was trying to become a vampire with out the help of a vampire. It has happened before, and he wasn't too pleased to have to fix that too. In his right hand he had his machete drawn. It's three foot reinforced blade, sharp enough to cut off fingers just from tapping it too hard. It was great for dealing with anything that tried to get close. He had other odds and ends, the most notable being the sawed off shotgun, the fold away hatchet, and his revolver loaded with silver coated hollow point rounds. He had a flame thrower a few weeks back, but after it was struck in combat he learned that a fire resistant coat only does so much. The gas mask is more for show now, he used to use some chemical weapons but that caused just as many issues as it helped.

Inside the warehouse it was mostly empty, a few crates here and there, some shelves, the one office like room on the other end. And the rafters above. He had learned that fresh new-bloods tended to stay in places like the office, ones that have been around for a bit tended to hide in the rafter, knowing that humans have a lot more trouble getting up there, then back down. "[color=007236]I know you're in here. You know I am here. So this can go one of two ways, we duke this out now or you wait until the covenant deal with you.[/color]" He kept his eyes out, still unsure of what to make of his current target. "[color=ed1c24]Go away, or I will kill you too![/color]" Male voice, scared, he knew what Hank was. A hunter, a human who has devoted his life to killing the monsters of the world. Even new-bloods could smell the aged blood on his blade, even if it had been cleaned repetitively. 

Hank didn't respond to the threats he was receiving. This was a new-blood, they were ignorant, they thought they were all powerful, they didn't understand how things worked. Anyone that knew what to look for could tell that Hank's walking was different then a lot of people. He commonly took side steps to through off anything with speed abilities, he constantly turned directions, He would casually swing his blade to keep anyone who may be messing with his vision away from him, he made sure everything he needed was in arms rea-- "[color=f26522][b]BOOM![/b][/color]" Hank was sent flying onto the ground. "[color=007236]Dammit...[/color]" He gasped as he tried to get up. He came tot he conclusion that he had been shot with something big. Not a rifle, that would have cut through his armor easily. Shotgun maybe? Loaded with bird shot it might have still been stopped by his vest. "[color=ed1c24]HA! Bitch! How does it feel to get a taste of your own medicine?![/color]" his foe shouted with a voice of confidence.

He could see his target now, young, even by human standards. And in his hands a single shot shotgun. Looks like it wasn't reloaded yet. Teenagers, out of most of the new-bloods he had faced they tended to go that way more often then not. He felt bad for what had happened to him, Hank figured that it was some kind of power play from another vampire, or maybe just wrong place wrong time. Either way, he was a threat. 

The vampire was on top of him now, reloading the gun. His vest was cracked, maybe some of his ribs too. He wouldn't be able to get that lucky again if he was shot again. Hank swung his blade removing both feet of the new blood, by this time though he had reloaded. Hank had time to get up now though, and that was all he needed to get the job done. "[color=ed1c24]Mother f-[/color]" His voice was cut off as Hank grabbed the gun, pointing it away from him using his free hand, then bringing the blade down on one of the new-blood's arms. The gun was useless to him now, and with out legs he was just another target. He tried frantically to beg for his life, Hank at this point had gotten used to drowning out the pleas for help and mercy. He did his best to make the cut as clean as possible, removing the head, then landing his blade into the skull again.

Nothing moved for what seemed like hours to Hank. His job was done, until he heard noises coming from the office. Another one he thought. His body was in a lot of pain now though, he didn't have much left in him. So he grabbed his shotgun, still leaving the machete in one hand, then walked to the office. Inside he didn't see anything yet, just some old cabinets, a couple desks, and a sleeping bag. He could hear the whimpering though, something small maybe. Hank made it over to one of the desks, underneath it he saw the source of the noise.

Underneath was a small child, who looked a lot like the vampire he had just killed, only a lot younger, and he was human. Not a food bag either, just living with his family. "[color=007236]God dammit.[/color]" Hank mumbled. The child started to cry as he got a look of Hank, covered in blood, trench coat and gas mask, and no signs of his family member.

Hank left the child, crying out of fear and what was happening. Hank only stopped once he was outside to grab his phone. He called the police on a prepaid phone to tell them he had heard gunshots from the warehouse outside of town. After he made the call he hung up and split the phone in half, pocketing both halves until he was miles away from the warehouse, then he tossed both bits into the woods by the road. Hank hated his job, but he knew someone had to do it, and there was only so much people like the covenant could do. So Hank did his job, and he moved on. Heading back to his RV to find his next job. 

There was a lot of chatter on covenant frequencies. He had still no luck on breaking them, so all he could do was pay attention to the news, old military intelligence, and police channels until he got something he could use. Maybe he'd find a doctor for his ribs too, or just see if he could pull together a new vest he could use for his next job. Ribs healed, dead people didn't.