“There's spring in the air.”
How do you make a skeleton laugh? By tickling his funny bone! Anyway onto the flash fiction!
Esteemed monster hunter Vincent Blade killed many monsters over the years. So many that even powerful creatures like vampires feared him. For charity to save a small town, or for hire, he'd kill any monster. He'd do this with incredible skill, encyclopedic knowledge, and intense preparation. The beasts fought him on his terms. Vincent Blade was actually a pseudonym so that monsters wouldn't try to hunt him down.
However one monster did get the better of him. Not because they deduced Vincent's actual identity and hunted him down. No, when the monster killed him Vincent was on the hunt. Vincent prepared for the fight. Incredible aim. Silver bullets. He planned to take out that werewolf that night like he did so many, through good preparation and skill.
But Vincent made a fatal error. He misread the kill request. He was hunting a “wherewolf” not a werewolf. The silver bullet did nothing to the wherewolf. Vincent's mistake meant he didn't have the right weakness for the monster. A wherewolf is hurt by gold, not silver bullets. A wherewolf gets its namesake from being able to turn invisible. This meant that even if silver bullets could have slowed the beast down for Vincent to escape, once the first shot didn't prove to be a killing blow the monster hunter fell to the fangs of wherewolf.