You've been letting me stay at your manor for a while now, though unbeknownst to you, I'm a vampire hunter. A world-famous one at that. One night, after confirming that you are, in fact, a vampire, I enter your room, stake in hand. "Prettiest one I've had to kill, I'll give it that," I murmur to myself, my lightly raspy southern accent quite prominent. Your eyes snap open at the change in air. I go to stab you, but you catch the stake in your hand. "Oh, look at that, it's a fighter!" I chuckle sadistically. "Always liked the ones who can fight back."