Hawkes Bay Monster Hunters
Derek "Magnum" Steele
A bar hopping socialite
An attractive man in his mid thirties. Always impeccably dressed in tailored suits and designer loafers, Derek paints a sophisticated picture. He’s graying a little at the temples, but this adds to the distinguished look rather than reducing his physical appeal.
He keeps himself in good shape, but more for appearances that any real desire to be a muscle bound hulk.
Derek was a successful investment banker who had it all. Great portfolio, high paying, powerful job, millions in the bank, extremely active social life, women throwing themselves at him, fast cars, high rise penthouse apartment…in short, everything he had ever dreamed of.
Funny how life can change.
Derek noticed one of he senior members of his firm beginning to act a little odd. He was making decisions that made little sense in the fast paced world of investment banking. He seemed…antiquated? Something about him seemed off. No longer were quick powerful decisions made in line with the current market. Instead, a careful, methodical and plodding presence planned moves that would have been appropriate decades ago. It was like he was a different man.
Derek was working late one night and he made his way to the copier, going past the senior executives office. Out of the corner of his eye, it looked like two people were in there. Shaking his head, he turned to the executive and saw a bizarre sight. The executive was lying on the floor on his back, and a..a..thing was hovering over him.
The thing turned suddenly and looked directly at Derek and he would swear, to this very day, that it looked just like the founder of the company he worked for. But that had to be impossible. He had been dead for sixty years.
The thing floated down into the senior executives body and he started to climb to his feet. Derek couldn’t take his eyes off the sight, stuck, like a deer in headlights.
He felt some pain in his side and felt the floor hit him hard. Tearing his eyes away from the executive and the thing, he looked up in shock and saw himself smothered by a man in a trench-coat, picking himself up from tackling Derek, and a middle aged black man pointing a shotgun at the executive.
Inside a small office, the shotgun blast sounded like the world exploded, and the executive was thrown backwards, hitting the floor with a loud thump. Scarily, the thing rose from the body like an avenging ghost. Somehow, the two men stood their ground and the black man simply lifted his phone to his ear and calmly said two words, forever etched into Derek’s subconscious.
The thing erupted into a shower of sparks and flame and the two men simply walked off. Derek crawled over to the executive, sure he was dead. He was breathing fine and covered in…salt? What the hell was going on?
cut to three years later
Derek is no longer the millionaire he once was. He’s left the world of investment banking behind, sold off large chunks of his assets and has searched the country for this black man and his friend that saved him.
While he was never going to completely abandon a social lifestyle, he supplemented it with learning about occult lore, how to shoot a gun and searching for this man. He finally found him. Rufus. His name was Rufus…