Cain Owens Alexander

[cain]

;;Cain Owens Alexander;;
Is Entering Sins of Impunity

It’s All About You

Behind the Puppet Master

::NAME::

Louisse Carlo Zaide Bragais
::AGE:
17
::GENDER::
Male
::RP EXPERIENCE::
5 years + (August 2004)
::CONTACTING YOU::
[e-mail]
::ACTIVITY::
2 hours a day, +8.00 GMT (Singapore)
::THE PUPPETS::
N/A[/blockquote]

The Identification Tag

Character Basics

::ALIAS::
Cain, Owens
::NAME::
Cain Owens Alexander
::AGE::
26
::GENDER::
Male
::ORIENTATION::
Straight
::SPECIES::
Human
::JOB::
Freelance modeling
::RELIGIOUS AFFILATION::
Atheist

Where Your Abilities Fall

The Character Talents

::STRENGTHS::
1. Superior speed & agility
2. Knowledge of Vampires and Were's
3. Marksman & Tracking
4. Knowledge of weaponry
5. Analytical

::SUMMARY::

When his father realised that Cain had the natural instincts of a fighter, just like he did, he put the child that he once used as a punching bag under his wing and started to train him to become a professional fighter. His trainings methods were undeniably harsh, Cain being made to train under the harshest of conditions; in the hottest summer days and the coldest winter nights. Day and night, Cain was forced to his limits, and those limits were forced to expand. In fact, one would call it more as torture than training. And despite it all, Cain survived it all, till his father's death. And from the training, he developed into the fighter that he now is.

After being picked up by Kraven, he was trained by the hunter to be one himself. And of course, he was taught all he needed to know about the supernatural creatures that walked the world, specifically were's and vampires. This information has helped make Cain an even more efficient and deadly hunter. Add that to his speed and marksmanship and he is indeed on his way in making a name in the shadow of the world.

Joining the USMC upon graduation was not that hard, considering his physical record. And it did not take long for him to get into a unit too. So to say, with his experience in school, he found learning the commands, procedures and protocols a lot easier than he thought it would be. Also, due to his incredible agility, he was promoted to a Scout and was given special training for such a post, like tracking, reconnaissance, erasing trails and of course, marksmanship.

Being in the Marines, Cain was introduced to a new world of violence : long-ranged weaponry. With his interest piqued, not only did he sign-up for all the weaponry lessons and lectures that the Marines offered, but he went on and did some research on his own too. Having quite a lot about weaponry, specifically sniping equipment, has made him an even more efficient hunter, especially at long distances.

Cain has been exposed to threats of life and situations where more often than not, he would be greatly disadvantageous. These are times when the sharper of mind would often overpower the brute strengths of his opponents. Cain has become quite analytical over the years and with his sharp eyes, is able to take note of his surroundings and situation and think of ways to manipulate it to his own advantage, much to the dismay of his targets, of course.

::WEAKNESSES::
1. Relatively weaker striking strength
2. No grappling ability
3. 'Lone wolf' bravado
4. Has a tendency to get carried away
5. Indecisive in major decisions

::SUMMARY::

Due to the harsh training methods and the conditions that his body was made to grow up in, his muscles have developed in a way that his muscles stretch and contract faster than they harden. In short, despite his incredible speed and agility, his striking ability is relatively weaker than what one would think he would be able to do. Of course, it is not weaker than an average human, but it is not that better either.

Under his father's tutelage, Cain was raised to be a striker, not a grappler. It was something his father despised, for it took away the adrenaline-quality of the fight. It was, after all, the thrill that he sought. And he passed his philosophy down to Cain, who too despised grapplers and the likes. He prefers striking. As a result, he has no grappling ability whatsoever.

Under his father's wing, Cain never had much space to socialise. To be more precise, he was given none whatsoever. He had always been a lone wolf, so to say. Even in school, he always worked alone, having lacked the social skills to really trust someone enough to consider them a close friend. It was only in the USMC that he developed bonds with other people, though this bonds were soon severed as a mistake he made led to their demise, something that made Cain pick up his lone wolf bravado once more. And of course, being alone does not necessarily make him better.

From young, Cain had always been seeking the adrenaline and thrill of battle and more often than not, his addiction to it has led him to take some pretty foolish risks that often led to accidents involving his own misfortune. He has a big tendency to get carried away in fights, and the same goes in battle. When he is hunting a target, he does not stop until the target is down, even when the risk to him increases as the time passes. That is, after all, the natural law of hunting. The longer you take to hunt, the higher the chances you have of getting caught.

When he was in the Marines, he made once decision in one of their missions that led to the complete massacre of his own unit, leaving all dead but him. The traumatizing incident has led Cain to become quite unsure of himself when it comes to making big decisions, especially when other lives' are at risk in these decisions. By others', I mean innocents and allies, not creatures.

The More Human Side of Things

Human Appearance

::HAIR::
Dark brown
::EYES::
Navy Blue
::HEIGHT::
6'2''
::WEIGHT::
204LBS
:MARKS::
Four deep scars going from his right shoulder the the bottom of his left ribs. A scratch from a werewolf.
::SKIN TONE::
Slightly tanned
::BODY TYPE::
Slim, yet well-built
::CLOTHES::
Well, if Cain was ever seen wearing anything, he would definitely have one part of his attire being black. He wears almost anything one would wear in an urban environment. Trench coats, jackets, buttoned shirts, collared Tees, plain colored shirts, whatever. However, he would never be seen outside his door wearing shorts. It would always be cargo pants, or jeans.

When he goes out hunting, more often than not, he would be wearing a long-sleeved raven black shirt and a dark grey vest on top of that, the vest bearing pockets that would contain his ammunitions and other small equipment. A pair of grey or black cargo pants and black combat boots would accompany that attire and more often than not, a pair of black aviators.

::SUMMARY::

Standing at 6'2'' and weighing 204 lbs, Cain has a body that only some can dream of. After all, he has been physically training himself at a very young age, and his body has developed gradually to what it is now. But first thing first, let us describe from the top.

Cain has dark brown hair, styled in a way that he has short hair on the sides, while hair at the center, front and back are considerably longer, waxed in a way that it would be all spiky towards the center. He has a straight nose, despite having being broken quite a handful of times. He has a square jaw, not at all looking out of place. A set of pearly white teeth are concealed behind his light crimson lips. He has dark green eyes that has a gaze that could match his ferocity as a hunter. He has short stubs on his chin, having shaved often as he despises the idea of growing up so quickly.

He has a built body showcasing a set of six abs and toned chest muscles, his broad shoulders holding upon it arms of equally-majestic proportion. To say the least, the years of fighting and being in the Marines have helped provide him with such strong and sturdy arms, and it is through these sturdy arms that he is able to achieve a steady hand when equipped with long-ranged weaponry.

As for legs, they make up about just a half of his total body height, which is actually quite long. This enables him to be as agile as he is. After all, he is provided with an immense amount of leverage to move around with. He does not have much leg hair for some reason, just a mild layer of it.

[/size]

Personality is Everything

How They Might Act

::LIKES::
1. Adrenaline-pumping situations
2. Black
3. His motorbike
4. Modern weaponry
5. Rainy weather

::DISLIKES::
1. Being in one place for too long
2. Being asked to make big decisions
3. Quick and boring fights
4. Pink
5. Being defenseless

::FLAWS::
1. Too much honesty. Whether it hurts you or not, he would not hesitate to say what he thinks. More often than not, this annoys people.
2. Automatically shuns anyone he has to work with.
3. His fists-first attitude has often led to a couple of people holding grudges against him.

::BLESSINGS::
1. Once you have gained his trust, he will be loyal beyond compare.
2. He stays calm and more often than not offers great advice to those who asks for it.
3. Unless you really provoke him to start a fight, Cain can be a pretty polite and charming individual.

::SUMMARY::
Complexity. That's one way to describe what Cain strikes other people as. Displaying a wide variation of reactions and emotions, one can never predict nor begin to guess his thoughts and feelings. Indeed, his mind is but a vortex of such mental inventions. Sometimes he can be cheerful, sometimes gloomy. Sometimes he can be calm, other times he can explode with just a single spark. Though, it is this trait that makes Cain Cain.

Cain can be passed on as your every day hyper active fighter. A young wise man who knows when to be cheerful and when not to, Cain is a man many would treasure as a friend. He is not exactly enthusiastic, but he is often smiling and does not exactly get irritated or depressed easily. A great company to have, to cut it short.

Though, he holds scars in his heart too. Having being born under an abusive father, growing up in a notorious school as an orphan and being in the Marines, Cain is not new to the hardships of life and has long grown used to them. One can notice that no matter what situation, Cain seems to be able to stay calm and always have something to say about it, whether or not his opinion was reasonable. Most of the time, it is.

Cain, however, is one thrill-loving young man. And there is only a few things strenuous enough to give him the adrenaline and the thrill he oh-so enjoys. Fighting happens to be at the top of the list. He fights for the sake of fighting it and for the enjoyment out of it, not for the chance to beat down on his opponent or for revenge. He finds the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the thrill his heart experiences most enjoyable, like a drug to an addict.

Despite having being quite a confident leader before, a single incident has led him to lose all of such confidence and self-trust. From then, he dislikes having people's lives in his control, for he fears that he would fail once more and cause the death of many innocents, or worse, friends. It is only through such situations that he displays the weaker side of himself.

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Checking Out the Background

Historical Stuff

::FAMILY MEMBERS::
Mother - Carolyn Alexander - Deceased - Died when Cain was born
Father - Devon Alexander - Deceased - Died when Cain was 14
Siblings - None
::SCHOOL::
Trevor High School, Illinois
::GRADUATION YEAR::
2002

::HISTORY::
Cain had already been cursed with a hard life since the day he was born. Something went wrong during his delivery and the doctors were unable to stop his mother from bleeding. It did not take long for the woman to die. Of course, Cain was clueless back then of what was happening, but events like this would scar someone were they to be smart enough to realise what they had caused. And it was what happened to Cain, but let's not jump through time just yet. Cain's father was a boxer who earned money from exhibition matches and also acting as big stars' sparring partners. He, however, was an alcoholic and a gambler, thus causing the young and innocent Cain to be prone to child abuse. And he suffered as such.

Cain, however, was a wise young boy and gave in not to the assaults of his dad, instead harvesting his anger into energy of which he used to train himself into being able to withstand his father's drunken assaults. For example, footwork, so as to better dodge his father's fast punches, and pain tolerance. Kinda self-explanatory for the latter. That was, however, how he grew up to be. Fast and tolerant. When Cain turned eight, then, he got into some trouble with a few of his schoolmates. They were a group of bullies who picked on random kids and when their eyes had been set on Cain, they found him more annoying than annoyed, his calm and collected reactions to their pickings not being the kind of reaction they wanted. As such, they resorted to more violent methods.

Cain, however, reacted as how he would when his father assaulted him and soon enough, the group of four bullies were beaten to the ground. The principal called up Cain's father and when he found out about this, he decided to make a better use off of the 'useless' Cain. As such, he started to train the young Cain. Normally, a child would be happy for he now had become significant to his father's eyes and finally spent time with him, but Cain felt far from relieved. He was mistreated, pushed way beyond his limits and given very little rest. In fact, he was pushed so hard he himself wished he had been insignificant to his father instead. However, he set himself a goal then. That he would indeed take this training and become stronger. And soon enough, strong enough to defeat his father and show him the mistakes of his past, of how he treated the young Cain, that Cain no longer needed him to live. He was going to defeat his father. That dream was enough to drag him through these hectic years.

However, when Cain turned 14, something happened to his father. During an exhibition match, he was struck hard at the side of his chin and his neck twisted. He died immediately and the news hit Cain hard. Not cause he loved his father, no, but cause his dream had been shattered. He had been deprived of the chance to get revenge of the man who had caused him to suffer ever since he was born. He did not grieve for the death of his dad dream for that long, though, and recovered soon enough to inherit his father's savings and get an apartment in the proud city of Illinois, where he was enrolled into the school that seemed 'kind' enough to accept him.

A considerably unpopular school known as Trevor High. Here, Cain was mistreated as a freshman. Of course, not for long either as after his first month of high school, Cain was able to bring down his junior bullies. On his own. This feat was enough to throw Cain into the spotlight. His high school life was surprisingly hectic, with challenges for spars coming from all sides. Apparently, his school had a sort of dark secret to it. Led by a small council of seniors, an underground fighting club had been formed, kept secret from the teachers and the other staff members.

One's popularity was decided upon this fighting club. If you were successful in the club, then you would be well recognised in school. If you sucked in it, then you're automatically stereotyped as a nerd. There were no jocks, nor palstics, nor emos here. Just winners, losers and spectators. Considering his experience, though, Cain was popularised by the club, despite being just a freshman. By the end of his first year, Cain was already known as one of the club's top fighters.

Through the club, Cain was introduced to real-life combat and all kinds of fighting style. He continued to train himself and more than once, he questioned himself why. His father was gone. He had no one else to prove himself to. It was then at this time that Cain made a simple but impactful decisions. With no more shackles in life, he was going to live it his own way and have as much fun as he could along the way. He became better and better as the months passed and soon enough, when he reached junior year, he was so popular and successful that he was voted as the School Captain.

This was the period, however, that trouble started. You see, Cain had not been the only prodigy in the fighting scene. There was another, a man of the same grade as he was. A man named Ray. And Ray, however, was much more ambitious than Cain was. He did not just want to be better. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be at the top of the mountain, and be the only one on it. The moment Cain became school captain, Ray made his reign a hectic one. He stared fights in the very school grounds, in open view, forcing Cain to have to subdue him himself.

The months went on and soon enough, the school was split into two. Ray had gathered himself a group of student followers, creating a sort of gang that sought to overthrow and take over not only the fighting club, but the school also. Calling themselves the Redeemers, they aimed to put a leash on the Student President and thus have complete control over the student body. It was then that a riot broke up, and Cain was forced right in the middle of it.

The conflicts lasted until Cain was a senior and finally, the government had just enough of it. They sent a riot squad into the school, finally ending the violence and panic that once filled the hallways of school. Trevor High School was made to close down, and Cain, alongside a few other students, was transferred to other schools. Cain was lucky enough to get into the De La Salle High School of Illinois.

Haunted by his inability to keep the peace in his old school, Cain kept a low profile in his new school, determined to just finish his education. Much to his relief, he graduated without trouble. It was then that he found himself meeting a dead-end. Where was he to go now? As much as he wanted to, Cain was too poor to get himself to college. It was through the fighting club that he had earned a living, but now, he had none. Then, as he sat at a bar contemplating, he caught sight of a TV commercial. It was the military. Like a message from the Gods, the answer came to him, and Cain accepted it with a smile.

He joined the military. And of course, like all new recruits, he was made to go through a series of physical and mental tests. Unsurprisingly, he excelled in every single one of these tests and most of them were related to his past experiences. It almost seemed that the test had been modeled for him, just to allow him to become the best in his batch of recruits.

Then, at one point, he was called upon my his sergeant. Curious and confused as to what it was, he reported to his superior and there, he was offered to be transferred to another unit in the army. Apparently, the USMC had heard of his impressive physical results and requested for him to be transferred to them. Without a second's hesitation, he accepted the offer, knowing full well that the USMC definitely had more to offer him than the military.

And at the age of 22, Cain was in the Marines.

Due to his physical capabilities, he was then trained along the lines of a scout or an infiltrator. He was, after all, quick-footed, flexible, sharp-eyed and analytical. As he begun training, one of the first weapons he picked up was a sniper rifle and it was through this weapon that he impressed many of his seniors. Stationary targets, mobile targets, close targets, distant targets, however it was, Cain seemed to find a way to hit every one of them. He was indeed a marksman.

Now, Cain had always been a somewhat loner ever since Trevor High closed won, but as he was introduced to his unit, he found himself subconsciously recreating bonds. He made friends, though not just friends, but people he thought of as brothers. He was no longer alone in the battlefield, no. He had a band of brothers who was there to support him, who understood him, who would risk their own lives to make sure that Cain was saved. And he would do the same to them.

However, all that changed one night.

Two years into the Marines, Cain and his unit was sent in a mission in South Africa. According to intelligence supplied to them by the CIA, one of the wanted men they were after, a terrorist mastermind, was hiding in the forest. This was Cain's chance to add another in the list of achievements and to say, he was excited to go home and receive a medal. They were sent in by helicopter, their drop-off point being one of the towns that bordered the Amazon Forest.

From there, Cain was sent into the forest, one of his unitmates sent in a minute after him, to watch his back. After all, in this part of the forest, they did not have much visibility nor capability to be fully aware of the area, and Cain, being the most analytical of the unit, was sent him to find the camp. Heading towards the direction intel had pinpointed it to be, he soon found himself in a sort of clearing. With his rifle raised, he treaded across it carefully. Just as he reached the center, though, the sound of a twig snapping reached his ears.

He crouched down, his rifles pulled against his shoulder as he aimed towards the direction of the sound's source. Though his sharp eye caught nothing, he felt an uncomfortable sensation overcoming him. He felt as if someone, or something, was staring back at him, but he could not figure out what it was. He stayed there for a moment, wondering or not he should follow his instincts and retreat, or continue on. After all, thus far, he had not spotted any of the terrorist guards yet. If he had been that lucky, he might as well continue on forward, right? Ignoring the twig of the branch then, despite his instincts screaming for him not to, he moved on.

A couple of minutes in, he found himself climbing up a small hill. And on the other side of it, he started to hear voices. Was this the place? Before he could continue up the hill, he heard footsteps and quickly slid towards a tree, pressing himself against it. The footsteps came closer and he compressed himself, trying to be as hidden as possible. Peering through the edge of the tree trunk, he noticed a guard standing at the top of the hill, carrying an AK rifle, muttering something to himself. Had he found the place?

Moving further away from the camp, he quickly radioed his unit, confirming the presence of the terrorist camp and of course, the guards as well. He then instructed his support to move back to the clearing earlier, as it would be their rendezvous point, before they would strike. Meanwhile, Cain stayed at where he was, keeping his eye on the top of the hill, which was now empty.

Then, hell started for Cain once more.

The sound of screams and gunfire filled his ears, the sources coming from the other side of the hill. Cain's eyes widened. What the hell was happening on the other side? Moving quickly, Cain ran up the hill, keeping low and his hands on the rifle as the sounds slowly died away. Just as he reached the top though, everything was silent. Throwing himself down as he reached the top, he looked over from his prone position, gazing down on the camp, or what used to be a camp. Bodies were scattered all over the floor, their abdomen's torn open and their faces ribbed out from their skulls. A couple of arms lay on the ground, detached from the body. It was a grotesque scene, coming straight out of a horror gore movie. Cain almost puked.

What the hell could have done this? Quickly taking out his walkie-talkie, he radioed his unit.

"ABORT THE MISSION! I REPEAT, ABORT THE MISSION! THE TERRORISTS ARE DEAD! THERE'S SOMETHING ELSE HERE! ABORT!"

"What, Cain? What did you sa-... What was that?"

"ABORT! GET OUT OF HERE!"

"Hold up, Cain. I can't hear you right. Santiago, check that out..."

"Fuck."

Cain got up and started running back, throwing his rifle aside as it seemed nothing but a burden to him then. He removed his pistol from the holster, his figure blurring its way through and in between the trees as his unit's conversation continued on. Santiago's voice came up next.

"What the fuck?! GAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!"

"SANTIAGO! FUCK! SHOOT THAT THING DOWN!"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!"

Cain yelled in frustration, chanting curses as he rushed back to his unit. The sound of gunfire filled his ears, echoed through the trees and out from the walkie-talkie earphone in his right ear. He quickened his pace, sweat covering his forehead in a layer of moisture.

"PAUL! FUCK! IT GOT PAUL!"

"FALL BACK! FALL BACK, GODDAMN IT!"

The sound of gunfire continued, Cain's yells growing louder, his panting almost matching it in volume too. The sound of gunfire grew louder. He was getting close. At that, he started to think whatever it was was attacking them. It did not seem human, no. Nothing could be enough to bring his squad down so easily like that. It couldn't be a large army. Cain would have noticed that too. Had they been tricked? Had the terrorists knew they were coming? Even so, it couldn't be them. They were already dead.

It did not take long for him to find Santiago's blood-stricken body. It seemed to have been torn apart from the abdomen, like a shark that bit him, then threw him around. Once more, he resisted the urge to puke. As much as he wanted to put grieve, he knew that he still had brothers who were still alive. The sound of gunfire was not that far off. He continued running, passing Paul, or at least, what was left of Paul's body, and another man Cain recognised to be Jolven, from the name tag. His head was nowhere to be found.

And finally, he caught sight of the flashes of gunfire. Raising both hands, he aimed the Glock pistol forward. Then, the gunfire flashes disappeared just as Cain caught sight of the attacker. His eyes widened in shock, his body frozen in fear. Standing there, with the last of his unitmate's body in its jaws, was a large wofl-like creature, standing on its hind legs. It had eyes that glowed crimson under the moonlight and as it caught sight of Cain, he felt a familiar shiver run down his spine.

His eyes could not get any more wider. It was the same feeling he felt earlier at the clearing, the one that he ignored. Rage filled him, overcoming his fear as he stared back at the creature, firing his pistol as he ran backwards. The werewolf dropped his 'brother' and went after him, dashing on all fours. Its speed was naturally superior to Cain and it did not take long for him to reach the last Marine.

However, Cain's reflexes kicked in just as the werewolf took a swipe at him. He leapt backwards, the creature's claws merely scratching him across the chest. However, they were enough to bring down the Marine as he lost his balance, landing on the forest ground, the pistol flying out of his hand as he pressed his hands against his bleeding torso, his eyes returning to the creature, who seemed to taunt him as it walked towards him. Cain growled, the bitter taste of blood filling his mouth.

"F-Fuck... You..."

Cain was able to mutter as the creature reached him, his vision blurring away as his body started to feel numb. It was over. Tears filled his eyes. He was going to die, here. And he was going to die full of regret. Why had he not listened to his instincts? Why did he have to risk the lives of his unit? Why was he so stupid? Just as his consciousness was fading away, though, the sound of another gunshot filled his ears, though slightly muffled, followed by a thud.

"W-Wh...at...?"

And his consciousness slipped away.

Much to his surprise, it returned, the weak Cain's eyes slowly opening. The fight thing he noticed was the bright orange light to his left. His vision, though, was still slightly blur and he could not make out what it was. His mind was all fuzzled too. He could not remember a thing, at least, not yet. Regaining control of his body, he sat up, only to be met by a restriction upon his torso. He flinched in pain as he placed his right hand over it, feeling the rough texture of bandages. He looked down. He was covered in it. What the...?

Soon enough, his vision cleared and he found himself in a sort of make-shift tent, the orange light from earlier being an oil lamp. Where was he? Adjusting himself, he got out of the tent, the change of lighting blinding him temporarily. He raised his right hand, sheltering himself as he once more adapted to his new surroundings. The sound of footsteps reached his clearing ears and he glanced to the side. He was not alone.

"Ah, you're awake."
"Who are you? Where am I?"
"I saved you. You were attacked last night."

Cain's eyes widened as his memory was refreshed, the flashbacks hitting him like a wave. Santiago's corpse, Paul's body parts, Jolven's headless figure. And that horrific monster. He was the only one who made it out alive.

"... My whole unit's dead, aren't they?"

The man was silent. He knew that the Marine already knew the answer. Cain stared at the man, furrowing his eyebrows.

"What the fuck was that, and who are you?"
"What attacked you was a werewolf, a creature of the night. And as for me, my name is Kraven. Kraven Ingrevan. I'm a hunter."

It was at this period of time that Cain found a new purpose in life. His family had been butchered by a monster. From Kraven, he learned that there were more of such monsters, and the existence of people like him that hunted these monsters. Upon knowledge of this, Cain requested for the man to train him to be a hunter. He was going to avenge his unit.

4 years later, Kraven deemed Cain to finally be strong enough to hunt on his own. He had learnt all he needed to learn. With that, Cain thanked Kraven and they parted ways, with Cain returning to America. Considered to be dead, Cain kept a low profile as he travelled the country, looking for creatures to hunt. However, along the way, he found himself being met with a single problem. He was financially strained. Despite that, though, he continued hunting.

However, there was a series of events in Wisconsin that discomforted him. In this region, he had heard of a couple of werewolves and vampires and started hunting them down. However, just as he located his hunt, an unknown man would emerge from the same venue, and Cain would find, to his surprise, that his target would already be dead. It had not only happen once, but a couple of times. So many times that it had started to annoy Cain. At that, he started to search for the man.

Now, a hunter of both creatures of the night and the hunter who constantly stalks him, another chapter of Cain's story has begun. And one can only predict what challenges await him in his future.

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Your Own Mad Skills

How Good Are You?

::CODE WORD::
'do the mashed potatoe, do the twiste'
::APPLICATION STATUS::
Finished
::RP EXAMPLE::

The moon shone down on his target, as the dark creature feasted upon his dinner for the night. A vampire, one of those blood-sucking nocturnal creatures. And tonight, it had come down upon an unfortunate female, the gory scene hidden from view in a small alleyway, the only light shining down on the place originating from the moon. The surroundings was quiet, save the growls of hunger that emerged from the cannibal.

However, he was not the only hunter that night, for there was another. One that looked for a different kind of hunt. And his prey, was the little bloodsucker who was still unaware of the danger he risked himself by going out that night. At the opposite end of the alleyway stood a tall apartment building and on the roof, almost invisible, lay a man clad all in black. A large sniper rifle was placed in front of him, held up by its side stands.

Cain held the sniper rifle closer to his body, his sharp eyes peering through the scope of the rifle. Slowly and silently, he adjusted the weapon, the magnification of the scope displaying the grotesque scene to the hunter. He gritted his teeth behind closed lips as he took a deep breathe, keeping his body as still as possible as he placed his finger on the trigger. The vampire's head was constantly moving as he sucked the blood from the woman's neck, forcing Cain to aim at the feeding point instead.

And at that, he waited.

Soon enough, the vampire was done savouring the taste of the blood in his mouth and came down upon the corpse's neck once more. Without hesitation, Cain pressed the trigger and the sound of gunfire stabbed right into the silence of the midnight. Through the scope, he witnessed the back of the vampire's head blowing apart as the bullet pierced right through it. The undead creature fell to the ground, before fading off as ashes. The bullet had been coated with silver and filled with holy water, and the effects were quite immediate indeed.

Cain pulled his eye away from the scope, looking over the weapon as he glanced over at the distant corpse of the vampire's meal. A soft sigh escaped his lips. The question of doubt filled his head. What if he had arrived earlier? Could she have been saved? He got up from his prone position, disassembling his sniper rifle, fully aware of the fact that someone should have heard the gunfire, despite it already being muffled by a silencer. Packing the weapon in a large bag, he slung it over his shoulders and made his way down from the roof, using the fire escape to do so, his leather boots making soft clanging sounds against the metal.

And just like that, Cain's night was over; A new day was coming, and with it, a new creature to hunt.

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[†The Blood Countess†]

Looks fine to me.

Accepted