Joshua

I wanted to treat my girlfriend to a trip to New Orleans for some much needed R-and-R. That was the plan. Stopping in Memphis for a night of partying, I awoke to find I had no memories of the night before, another woman had joined us in bed for the evening, and a demon sat in the hotel’s bar, wanting to talk....

Once I get the dame calmed down, she shows me what all the fuss is about: three stiffs in the dumpster behind Gatsby’s, stacked one on top of the other. Now, I know what you’re thinking - bodies drained of blood, two marks on the side of each neck...all signs point to shenanigans of the vampiric variety. But I’ve been on this beat long enough to know there’s always more to the story, even in a place like this.

It was a typical February night in 1951 when she stepped into one of Nashville’s many dives and into my life. The blonde asked for my story, wanting to know what had me drinking. She had no idea it was the same thing that had me working at nights, hunting down the monsters that stalk the back alleys of my city. Back in ’31, the job was just supposed to be another bank heist - in, then out, then we'd be rich. But along with the money, we found that cursed ruby, and nothing was the same again.