A/N: New story, not a short but it's gonna have a plot. The first few chapters are gonna be action-packed, and the plot will develop later. Thanks to YJANZ-PROVIDENCE for the inspiration for this.

The chime of the clock tower struck 12, a fact of which the stranger standing at its base needed no reminder.

He had shoulder length, jet black hair, and stood at an impressive height. He was muscular, apparent even through the leather overcoat. A cigarette hung between his lips, its steady glow rising and diminishing with every drag he took. His striking grey eyes scanned the street, looking out at the crime, fear, and disrepair of this section of the city.

The chime finished, and he raised his head. The cigarette fell from his mouth, to be smothered to pieces by his boot heel. Tonight was another mission.

Matthew Vadenhart XIV strode to the barred door and kicked it open with a fluid snap of his foot. The door broke off its hinges, falling to the ground, and without a second thought, the hunter entered.

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He was greeted with a howl.

Matthew rolled out of the way and unveiled his first surprise. Twin Uzi's lay in his hands, and a short burst eliminated the powerful werewolf that had leaped for him.

Dozens more stood in the chamber, and the spiral stairs to the next floor lay beyond the horde. He raised the Uzis, a scare tactic he hoped to employ against the wolves.

Another howl, and the onslaught commenced.

Three bullets downed the first wolf, the weaker of the two types. The more powerful wolves took on the form of a hulking, humanoid monster, while the weaker became normal wolves.

He leaped backwards and brought a higher wolf to its knees, and finished it with a shot between the eyes. Two more came at him, one higher and one lesser, claws raking wildly.

"Back!" he shouted, putting more bullets into the duo. The lesser dropped dead, but the stronger came at him, more enraged for the pain. A clicking noise informed him his right gun was empty.

He hurled it at the oncoming monster. It hit it in the head, stunning it momentarily, giving Matthew sufficient time to finish it off with the left Uzi. He dispatched another wolf before that too ran out of ammunition.

He produced a pump shotgun, the second in a long line of weapons. Holding the gun in one hand, he produced a grenade and lobbed it into the backlines of the force. Two more wolves fell.

Three of them remained. He destroyed one with the shotgun, before a higher wolf leaped forward and batted it out of his hands. He produced his next, and most trusted weapon, a wicked-edged saber. He worked it through a short routine, adjusting to the weight. Its silver blade gleamed menacingly in the moonlight streaming through the top of the towers.

The werewolf leaped back as Matthew put the blade through a diagonal swing. Pressing the attack, each cut met air until the wolf was backed into a corner. Fire burned in Matthew's eyes as he finished the wolf, driving the blade through it.

He turned to see the last wolf, a lesser one, leaning back on its hind paws, preparing to spring. Matthew raised his blade and slashed, just as the monster lunged into the air.

The saber bit into it and threw it to the side, trailing blood. The wolf rolled once and got back to its feet, growling throatily. The blood dripped from its badly torn paw. Nevertheless, it leaped forward one last time. Matthew stabbed, thrusting through its heart and killing it instantly.

Matthew sheathed his blade, and looked to the stairway. Despite its age, it seemed well enough to support him. He slowly began to walk towards the stairway, then paused.

Quick as a flash he spun and produced a silver revolver, letting off a shot. A humanoid creature fell from the shadows, a bullet between its eyes. Matthew paced over to examine it, his fears confirmed.

A vampire lay on the floor, dead. Matthew looked at the body for a moment, then reached for his neck and removed a chain with an elaborate golden cross on the end of it. He tossed it onto the vampire's body, which instantly burst into flames. Within seconds, it was ash. He retrieved the cross, which remained intact.

The dozens of eyes watching him from the higher levels of the tower recoiled. This was no ordinary mercenary.

But they were no ordinary targets.