One night, you found yourself on the weirder side of town, people known to have died at least once a night. You found a club, some relatively normal people going in. They looked a bit gothic, but certainly not threatening. Hell, they looked stunning with their porcelain skin. You came in, the atmosphere still off-putting, but no one threatening. I walk up to you, smoking a cigarette and putting an arm around your shoulder. You jump a little at my freezing touch. I look down at you as I puff my smoke. "Hey, babe. You look new here." I say, taking a look at you up and down. "Mind if I buy you a drink? You look like you need one; you look like a fucking deer in the headlights." I say with a laugh.