London's lights were sparkling in nightfall. Or at least, from what could be seen through the foggy window. The young hunter felt a brief wanting of going back home. What she wouldn't give to be in bed, drinking some tea, and watching the moon. She shook her head, ridding herself of the thought. What was the use of nerves at this point? None, of course.

Emmy Altava received a letter from one of the citizens just yesterday, about a vampire that has overstayed his welcome. It started with livestock as small as lambs. Then he targeted cows and then soon humans also fell prey, bite after monstrous bite. The person wasn't rich but was able to offer food that would last her for months, should she accept. And she did, with little afterthought. It would be a rather quick job, if the vampire wasn't as athletic as her.

The woman scanned her surroundings. Dusty décor was in her sights, one befitting of any old creature's residence. She felt a presence from behind, now closing in on her. Just after she picked up the sound of flapping, she pounced and smacked a poor bat out of flight. It squeaked in dismay as it stumbled on its two feet.

Emmy kneeled down and inspected the critter. "Oh, I suppose you're not him, are you? You would have long transformed. Sorry…"

Its large, rather goofy eyes looked up to her before shaking its head to readjust its small blue cap. It soon took to the air before blowing a raspberry at her. The master was going to have an ear-full as soon as it delivered the message. This silly human think she can do battle against him? Hah, it's laughable.

After watching the strange bat fly off, Emmy sighed with a shrug. "Well, certainly not the strangest thing I've seen in my line of duty. Now where is he…?"

...

A pale, well-dressed man sat in his armchair, watching the wood in the fireplace burn. He rested his head in his hands, with a longing sigh. He was…antsy, for lack of a better term. Blood: He desperately wanted it. He needed it. He craved and starved for it. The man's hands wandered to his favorite teacup, drawing it to his lips.

He repulsed in an instant after tasting. Bovine blood… It was lacking in areas of taste, but it was… nourishing, he supposed. It took a lot of concentration to block out disgusting taste until the teacup was finally rid of the substance. Whatever it takes to stay alive, he will do. His dark eyes glanced over his shoulder to see a small figure fly over to his chair.

Why, it was his trusty bat partner, Luke! Admittedly, he was a lonely man without him. Luke often brought news of the outside world and happily chatted away important details. One can say he was his eyes and ears. The two were quite inseparable. However, because of the mannerisms of his furry friend were excitable and childish, he felt a small barrier between them both.

Luke screeched and chattered, his voice echoed the room.

"What was that, Luke? …An intruder you say?"

He continued on and described how the woman entered the castle and was preparing to kill him.

"How dreadful. I suppose that won't do. I'm afraid it's against my gentlemanly code to go harming anyone, hunter or not. Perhaps it's best to flee."

The bat was disappointed. This was their home, why was she invading it and attempting to kill his mentor? And is that the way a lady would act? It was unfortunate that whatever type of chatter he produces will never change his mentor's mind.

He rose from his chair. "Well then, let's at least have a look at our adversary."

After dusting off his lavish black suit, the man strolled out of his room into a narrow hallway where the stairs were located. He tipped down them silently, as to not give away his presence. His body kept close to the decrepit walls as he slinked past various furnishings. Finally, he stopped near the doorway that led into the large living room where she stood.

Tipping his hat back, the man poked his head around, now able to see his rival. Dark eyes scanned every feature: long, luscious brown hair; athletic-yet-curvaceous build; fair, light olive skin…

Luke, who finally joined him, perched on his shoulder and chattered in his ear. This is the one. This is the woman trying to kill you.

The vampire knew better than to judge a person by looks. He was certain he would probably be bested if he tried to combat her in any manner. Still, his thrill of seeing another living being before him is enough to throw caution to the wind and interact. The worst that can happen is a stake being driven into his chest.

Casually striding in, he cleared his throat to grab the attention of his intruder. "Good evening, my dear."

The woman turned around instantaneously, taking the opportunity to tighten her grip onto the stake she currently held and thrust in his direction. A gloved, gentle hand grabbed hers just before it met his skin. Her eyes then gazed upon his, clearly unamused.

"Now, now. We mustn't allow such haste, especially since we haven't properly been introduced. I am Hershel Layton, a man that was once an archeological scholar by trade." He paused for a moment, as to rid of any lament in his voice."Ahem, and what is your name?"

The Hershel Layton? To her knowledge, he was quite a smart and talented man. He achieved quite a bit in his young life that many older members of his community dreamed of doing. The male had helped society come closer to knowing key points in certain areas of history, from what she read about him. She had a small opportunity to sit at a lecture he organized as well; it was not a choice she regretted. After all, in a fleeting moment, he imparted advice that she kept with her always.

You seem a tad envious of my pursuits. However, there is little need for jealousy. To know just as much as I, all you ever need to do is to live your life with an eager, open mind.

An open mind opens many new opportunities.

She took these words to heart and traveled the world. However, details were reoccurring in the places she visited: disappearances of loved ones, torn families, myths and legends that spread like wildfire. These mysteries beckoned her; they excited her. Emmy needed that excitement, and what sweetened the deal was helping others. As strange and tangent as her path was, she became a slayer.

If the man in front of her is the same man who opened her eyes to what the world had to give her, can she really kill him?

"Is something the matter? Your hands are shaking."

She forced her hands still, and spoke her words before she changed her mind. "I'm here to kill you! Regardless of who you are!"

Emmy had more trouble convincing herself than Layton. The internal conflict ate at her like a ravenous buzzard. There would be the possibility of more livestock going missing, and probably even more people as well. Yet, as many of her previous cases, she had a hard time of doing away with the murder of a living (or unliving) being.

"I'm sorry… But I don't think 'here to kill you' is quite the name for a young lady," he chuckled good-naturely.

She pulled her arm away to release his grip on her wooden stake, and took another stab at him. Layton, who caught sight of it, took a small step to the right, completely avoiding it. He then moved behind her in one quick motion before curling an arm around her to prevent further movement. Once she was struggling with her free arm, he grabbed it and removed the stake from her clutches.

He whispered in her ear, "I think this particular piece of wood goes better in the fireplace. And I thank you for giving it to me. It was getting fairly low."

Layton let go of her and tossed it away in the burning pit, allowing the flames to consume the wood to its entirety.

"Ah, much better. Now then, what is your name?"

She stared at the floor in silence, embarrassed of how she bested. "…Emmy. Emmy Altava."

The vampire gave a humble bow. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Altava. May I interest you in some tea? Or are you hungry, by chance? I do have some food I can prepare for you."

She gave him a wary look. He was showing quite a bit of hospitality toward someone who was ready to kill him. For all she knew, she probably would be poisoned. Then again, if she was poisoned, he wouldn't be able to feast upon her blood very easily. She began to tense; Emmy didn't know exactly what to think at that moment.

A low grumble emitted from her stomach. It seems her body gave her answer for her.

The man gave a small humble chuckle. "Shall I take that as a cue to get started on your meal?"

She said nothing, already succumbing to the feeling of failure and defeat. Might as well entertain the idea, she came a fairly long way and with little to eat during the trip. Walking over to a nearby couch, she waved her hand dismissively with a "Sure, I suppose."

Layton nodded and proceeded to the kitchen, Luke following close behind.

As soon as Layton set foot in the kitchen, the bat then made quite a fuss. Questions of "Why are you making food for her?", "Have you gone nuts?" and "Don't you know she's actually your enemy?" were screeched at him.

Hershel had patience to allow him to ramble on until finally he caught the end of a sentence. "Luke, I understand your concern, but you must trust my actions. Yes, she is most likely. She is no doubt versed in hand-to-hand combat and can singlehandedly defeat me, should she want to. However, she is first and foremost a woman, a human being. And she shall receive the fullest respect that I can give. I expect the same from you as well. Is that clear?"

The bat gave a sigh and simply nodded. He'd do it, but he won't like it.

...

The slayer sat on the lumpy couch, thinking of Layton. He had no reason for his actions, especially since she made her intentions clear. Yet, he is busy cooking her dinner and giving her kindness. Most other vampires would have long bared their fangs and latched it to skin. She now realized that he wasn't like them. He had humanity left in him.

Layton poked his head in the room. "Sorry to bother your musings, but your dinner is ready."

Leading her into the dining room, he pulled out a chair for her and left momentarily.

She turned her head to see him return with a large tray fitted with a meal for one.

"Ah, there we are. I trust you wouldn't mind a filling meal after your trip here."

The plate was adorned with tender roast beef, mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli. The smell alone nearly drove her to drool. Emmy turned to see his humble smile.

"Oh yes, and would it please the lady to have a glass of wine?"

When she was about to object, he popped the cork and placed out a wine glass. Once filling it half-way, he then placed the bottle nearby.

She gave the wine bottle a better view. "This is 38-year old wine!" Certainly worth more than her life's savings now that she thought of it. "I can't drink this! Or eat any of this!"

Layton's face became quizzical. "Well, why not?"

"One, I just don't like imposing on others… But two and more importantly, I don't know rather or not any of this has actually been tampered with. How do I know you're not setting me up?"

The man's brow furrowed ever so slightly and he emitted a low humming sound. He supposed there really was little reason for her to trust him right away, they both just met. But imposing? Hershel was always used to doing favors for others. Maybe she never was treated in such a nice way. It would explain her harsh behavior and outlook. There is no doubt in his mind: before she leaves, she shall be treated to whatever she desires. But first, to convince her that she needs to eat.

"Oh well… that is understandable. To trust your nemesis to cook something so lovely without tainting in any way… is most foolish. I suppose I'll just have to eat this all myself. My tastebuds aren't what they were sometime ago, they're rather dulled now. It is a pity to have it wasted on…delectable…moist…tender meat. " He took a bit of roast beef by the fork and waved it in front her.

Her eyes clung to the red meat, but she remained stubborn. "Yeah, a real pity."

He finally ate it as he breathed in a satisfied sigh. "Ah, that was very tasty."

"I-I don't want it! For goodness sakes, stop-" he picked up a clean fork and fed her in mid-sentence.

Her mouth momentarily went on a magical journey. She can say was definitely an out-of-body experience. The woman stared down at her food with a blank look on her face. Before long, she snatched the fork Layton had and began eating with vigor. She can't deny herself of food any longer, even if it was her adversary's.

Hershel breathed a sigh of relief, now knowing his new acquaintance would not go hungry. He couldn't help but smile over the small moments where she paused and sighed in bliss. It almost appeared as if she smiled as well. He finally had someone from the outside world with him. Hopefully, he can make sure she would at least come back on good terms with him.

Sometime later, Emmy finished her meal and downed another glass of wine.

"So… how was the meal, my dear?"

She stretched and started to slur a bit under the effects of the alcohol. "Pretty…good actually. It's been a long time since…since someone actually cooked for me."

"Oh, well, it's wonderful that you enjoyed yourself. And if you ever wish for another meal, don't be afraid to stop by again."

Her cheeks burned as she ran her fingers through her hair. "Yeah, I'll think about it… I live a good distance from here though, " she hiccupped, "It'd… be pretty hard to just drop everything just to travel to a house that's…uh… a good 80...er, or was it 90 miles...?"

He nodded, understanding the situation. "Well, my offer still stands. I'm more than happy to assist in any manner."

She slumped back in her chair and stared at the ceiling. "…Thanks."

It feels strange to have someone who wanted to help her instead of her helping them. In her buzzed mind, she actually had the thought of staying. It would be nice to stop killing creatures just so someone sleeps better at night.

Layton noticed she looked out of sorts. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah… I'm fine. "

The room lightly turned as she rose from her seat. The lights and sounds amplified much to her dismay. Screeches and chatter filled her ears with its cacophony. Where was that blasted sound coming from? What is that dark brown, furry thing buzzing around her head? Whatever it was, it was descending closer with its dreadful noise. She swatted at it as best as possible, but she swayed with each swing and missed multiple times.

Luke, who was quite impatient with his guest's actions started to flap his wings near her head in order to deter her.

"G-Gah! Go away! A-annoying little puff ball!"

Layton plucked the small bat out of mid-air and covered its mouth.

"Sorry, Luke. I know you were trying to have a nice conversation with us, but I'm afraid our friend is a bit… incapacitated right now and requires a bit of rest." There was also the matter of her not being able to understand bat chatter, but that was something that he could explain later.

The furry creature blew a raspberry in response, obviously not pleased. His ears lowered and he only responded with a low chirp then climbing up to his hat. Unfortunately, Luke didn't understand much of what was going on and found all of this to be more than unreasonable. After all, there was no reason to be rude.

"Ugh…" She clutched her head and did her best to stand up straight once again.

"My, you should be more careful when-"

"Shhhh! Not so loud! Y-You're in an echo chamber!"

Layton looked around and Luke only shot him a dubious look. The man cleared his throat and whispered, "My apologies. As I was saying, you should be more careful when drinking alcoholic beverages."

"I've drank worse! You should've seen me at that gala! Three shots of whiskey and a glass of bourbon… Whew, what a rush!"

Layton couldn't help but lurch forward to help as she tumbled back. He reached out to her and tried to match her steps as she teetered back and forth, both engaged in an awkward dance of sorts. As he leaned closer to her, she then moved forward and accidently bumped her head into his. They both fell to the ground in an instant, both writhing in pain.

Luke chattered away to Layton once again; he knew letting her stay was a bad idea.

"…No, she is not fit for sending to the asylum." He sighed after hearing his retort." …Yes, I'm sure. ...No, we are not drinking her blood."