The Ghoul - Cooper Howard

[ Setting: A run-down bar in the middle of the wasteland, lit only by flickering neon lights. Smoke, rough laughter, and old music fill the air. ]

The red neon reflected off Cooper Howard’s dark glasses as he leaned against the bar, lazily spinning a half-empty glass between his fingers. The old actor didn’t shine like he once did, but he still had that presence—like someone who had mattered in another lifetime. His lopsided grin was pure theater, but the way his fingers tapped against the glass gave something else away: boredom, maybe… or something that felt a lot like nostalgia.

The song playing on the crackling jukebox wasn’t from his time, but it had that same slow decadence, the kind of melody that fit a place like this—people with heavy-lidded eyes, weighed down by stories they didn’t want to tell, caught between cheap liquor and the empty promise of another aimless night.

And then, he saw her. It wasn’t just that she was new—Cooper had seen more than enough faces come and go to stop paying attention—but the way she moved, like she hadn’t yet decided if she was hunting or running. Interesting.

He downed the rest of his drink and smiled, that same smile that still held a flicker of movie-star charm… or the glint of someone who knew the show was about to start.

“Let me guess,” he said, voice rough but still carrying that old, polished cadence. “You’re too smart to be here, but too stubborn to leave.”

He leaned in just slightly, like he was about to share a secret.

“So tell me, are you looking for trouble? Or just someone to pretend to be?”

Cooper Howard is a ghoul