Name- Richard Torrington

Age- 31

Nationality- British

Race- Human

Virgin- Yes

Side- Freelance, Private Detective

Appearence- 5'10" medium build, Richard still keeps himself somewhat fit because of his work. He has longish brown/blond hair that he doesn't really brush or comb, but simply falls into place of its own accord. He seems to always have a bit of stubble on his face at any part of the day, but doesn't truly have a beard or mustache. His eyes are brown, nothing too spectacular, but they can be unnerving when brought into eye contact. His favorite outfit is his classic brown trenchcoat and brown hat. As he says, "It truly makes me feel like a real detective." Though while on the job he is known to wear street clothes to blend in with crowds and not attract suspician. These days he's taken to wearing an old wooden cross around his neck along with a wreath of garlic.

Personality as a human- He likes to think of himself as cold and calculating, but can never really pull it off. He cares about other people too deeply and what the "right thing" is. He can be a jerk to others easily, but put them in a dangerous situation and he'll do anything to help. Richard's main flaw is that he has a conscious and he is, despite the mystique he tries to maintain, a good person.

History- Born with an average mother and father, both British themselves, Richard arrived into the world at London. His family moved to the United States, where he lived until he was eighteen years old. There he developed a love for old detective movies, novels, and mysteries. Some of his leisure activities included studying old police cases, trying to figure out what happened before he reached the end of the report. He kept his dream of becoming a police officer secret, however, and studied in the area of computer technology to please his parents.

Richard then managed to get a position in a British college for computers, which he accepted with delight, both to get away from his parents and so he could pursue his real dream in peace. While Richard managed to complete his bachelor's degree quickly in his home country, he didn't follow through. Instead he began training to be a police officer in London. Unfortunately for the young man, after his graduation and first posting, he ran into a string of failures for a burgarly case. One of which reported him firing "a dozen shots into the assailant, who then stood up and managed to escape." It was effectively the end of his police career, and he was discharged.

Not wanting to return home a failure, Richard began his own small Private Detective office. While the pay was lousy and he barely managed to pay his bills and secretary, it made him happy as he managed to solve quite a few cases that didn't always involve an unhappy housewife that wanted to know if her husband was cheating. He began to gain somewhat of a reputation as being a tracker, and got a few lucrative jobs now and then. Then, everything began to change about the time of the First Outbreak (though Richard wasn't aware of it).

Given the job to look out for several teenagers, along with men and women in their twenties, Richard shrugged off their dissapearances to the regular reasons: domestic abuse, drugs, boy/girl-friends. But as he looked into all of these seemingly different cases, they all began to get eerily similar. Finding a common cause and place to their dissapearance, he went to check it out, only to find a government agency scrambling all over it, who wouldn't let him in. Later entering the building through his own means, he caught glimpses of people running by him. Sticking to the shadows, he was nearly caught by these people who he could only describe has having enlarged incisors, pale skin, and crimson eyes. This was the day Richard's life changed.

Getting deeper and deeper into this case that had become very personal to him, Richard began to dig up more clues, while innocent by themselves, were mind boggling when put together. While he still refutes the existence of vampires to this day, it is still his passion when not dealing with his "Real life" cases. He has taken to wearing a cross since that day five years ago, and garlic when walking around at night. Despite the huge personal cost, he has also purchased several silver bullet rounds for his Magnum .45 pistol, which he carries when he tells his secretary he's going out for a "walk."

Now, there have been new reports of missing teenagers and adults... Cases which Richard has been having a problem with sticking into his "Real life" cases. He fears what happened five years ago will happen again... But this time he won't miss it.

Weapon- Magnum .45 pistol with regular and silver bullets (unlicensed handgun) and a pair of Beretta .357 pistols with clips.

Other- Well versed in computer languages, he is a decent cracker/hacker.
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Richard Torrington
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I sighed loudly as I swept my papers off to the side. This case was clearly open and shut... The husband had been visiting the prostitutes not only on the weekend before, but in fact had been going to them for the past two years behind the wife's back without her knowing. The ladies he dealt with were easily bribed and I had more than enough evidence to get my payment from the wife... I really hated the case, but unfortunately that's what most of them were... They brought in the most money and I could barely pay this month's rent as it was.

My drifted to the files ontop of my phone, each one colored in a different shade of red, not by my choice but by my secretary's. Ironic really, considering that I thought they were about... Things I couldn't necessarily explain with common logic. Things that seemed more intune with novels and cheesy horror films. Things that I wasn't ready to accept as fact. But I was prepared.

Wiping my eyes quickly, I stood up and shoved all but one file into my oak desk. Flipping it open quickly, I scanned the missing girl's name again, Rachael Drackham, female, caucasian, age 22, missing for two months... For a case of this sort, friends and family members usually were the ones to give me the biggest clues, but in this case they had been very clueless. I had gotten the most information about her from her nightspots, the clubs she had hung around while attending school.

Picking up a note written on a napkin from the file, I glanced at the address I had written down. I had gotten a call from a bar that supposedly was running a tab for some sort of a man with a shady reputation... From what my sources said was drug dealing in its nature. A girl had been spotted there matching Rachael, and the bar tender said she usually was around most nights...

I snapped on my suspenders tightly and shoved the napkin into a pocket. Putting on my holsters, I brought my two Baretta pistols in snugly, pre-loaded just incase... A frown crossed my lips as the wooden cross around my neck hit the holsters. I groaned at myself inwardly as I opened another draw of the desk, this time bringing out of wreath of garlic and my Magnum .45, pre loaded with the special silver bullets I had ordered. I must be going insane to even consider the possiblity... I stuffed the large pistol into the back of my pants, a skill that had taken some time to master. My trenchcoat hid the objects well, and made me feel more comfortable, even as I inwardly berated myself.

Slipping out of my small office, I left the sleazy building I rented quickly and out into the night air. The bar in question was only a few blocks away, the walk would do me some good... Off to the Crimson Eye, probably just another hovel like my own office... Darkness wrapped around me as I walked down the strangely quiet sidewalk. I could hear the wail of ambulances...