A bloodstained hunter

Jessica heard the loud clatter of bottles breaking as a man collapsed into a heap to her right, just outside the bar's doorway. She could see her last patron stumble-run around the corner as she turned to face the man.

The first thing she noticed about him was that he smelled strongly of tobacco and something that reminded her of a sweet vinegar. Beneath that lay the smells of gunpowder, sweat, and metal sharpness of blood. The man turned and slumped against the wall, now facing Jessica, her eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. The man wore a trench coat and sturdy leathers, all of which had been stained bright red, which blossomed out from a large clawmark across his chest and an even larger gouging in his left shoulder, she could see bone. He held a bladed can in his right hand and a shotgun in his limp left hand. This man was assuredly a hunter. The man groaned and turned his eyes up to her, his pale face giving way to his shockingly green eyes. These eyes did not radiate malice nor judgement, his eyes were calculating, and he saw her for what she was. Not a beast.

"Girl" he groaned, "Come here, I need your-" he coughed here, spitting up blood down his chin before continuing "help."

Jessica heart hammered in her chest. A hunter had come to her doorstep, he bore no mark of the church, but he was in clear danger, but would helping him invite danger upon herself?