Hard Spell

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This is the city – Scranton, Pennsylvania.

It used to be a coal town, back in the days when anthracite was king. That was a long time ago – the last of the mines played out in the 1950s. But people here are tough, and they learned to adapt. Today, Scranton's got a healthy economy based on light industry, tourism, and retail. They've cleaned out a lot of the culm banks left by the mines, too.

It's a good place to live and raise a family – apart from vampires, werewolves, ghouls, wizards, and the occasional demon.

Scranton's got a "live and let unlive" relationship with the supernatural, just like everyplace else. But when a vamp puts the bite on an unwilling victim, or some witch casts the wrong kind of spell, that's when they call me.

My name's Markowski. I carry a badge.

Also a crucifix, some wooden stakes, a big vial of holy water, and a 9 mm Beretta loaded with silver bullets.

I was never a Boy Scout, but "Be Prepared" is still a good motto to live by. Especially if you plan to keep on living.

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