[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjcyLjA1ZmZmMi5WM2xoZEhRZ1NtOXVZWFJvWVc0Z1EyRnlkbVZ5LjAA/vtks-lightness-2.regular.png[/img][/center] [hr][hr] Massachusetts was much further east than Wyatt had ever been, the winter here was almost as bad as those he’d experienced in Alaska as a kid. He didn’t care for the cold, he’d spent most of his time enjoying the heat of the south of the desserts of the west coast. He drove a beat up blue ford pickup truck, a simple vehicle that could carry his stuff and weapons as well as handle the New England snow. He kept most of his belongings in his truck, he liked to be ready to go at a moment noticed, the quicker he got the vampire’s the quicker he could put a stop to them. He still kept his father’s old flip phone, one that various contacts of his father could still use to get ahold of him. His father had known Father Walter, so when Father Luca had called for hunters to help his town, Wyatt responded, having just taken out a vampire nest just outside of Las Vegas he drove for days until he hit Massachusetts. Finding the small town of Middleborough had been a bit of a challenge but eventually he rolled into another quaint small town that vampires seemed to love. The church was easy to find, it was probably the largest building in town and the roads around it where well paved, Wyatt easily found street parking and shut the truck off. He thought for a second about grabbing a gun or two to hide on his person, just in case, but it was still light out and bringing guns into a church seemed kind of wrong. He of course had some knives and stakes hidden on his person but he wasn’t fool enough to go anywhere completely unarmed. He locked up the truck and put the keys into his back pocket. Wyatt’s boots crunched in the snow as he crossed the street to the church. A crisp wind cut through his flannel shirt and the inside of the church was only somewhat warmer than the outside. It was fairly empty, at least compared to the churches he’s seen during his time in Texas, but then again it wasn’t Sunday. His eyes searched for a man of the cloth but he did not immediately notice Father Luca. While he waited, he paused in front of the statue of the Virgin Mary, head bowed he silently said a quick prayer for his late wife, Jenny. Wyatt had lost his faith in a higher power a long time ago but Jenny hadn’t and he figured it couldn’t hurt if he was going to be inside a church anyway.