Daryl had tracked the monster back here. Well, the professional word was tracked, but really, all he'd done was follow it. When it had disappeared for long enough, he had carefully forced the lock on the door and walked into the dark. He had his knives on him, and that was all. His guitar had been left back in the shelter. So when he heard footsteps, heard a voice calling out to him, he froze for long moments, cursing internally. He had seen the thing while he'd been playing in the street outside the shelter. It had even flicked him a screwed up dollar, but Daryl was nothing if not very good at recognising true monsters for what they were. But now some sheriff, a human without knowledge of the supernatural, had arrived. He'd blunder in and get himself killed unless Daryl made sure he left. At least the vampire wasn't here yet. It had arrived here, done one or two things, then left. It wasn't where it lived, and that was more than a bit annoying, but he had heard it speaking. It intended to return. Now this human, entirely unaware of the true horrors of the world, had arrived.
It was slowly that he moved to the ground and huddled up, evening his breathing out until it seemed as though he were asleep. A homeless bloke snoring away in a containment facility? Nothing strange there. Well, nothing out of the ordinary. The sheriff would pick him up and take him off to the station. Then Daryl could come back later and sort things out. He looked about blearily when the light finally fell on him and he sat up, making a bit of a show of rubbing his eyes as he looked into the light and, er, gun.
"Officer," he mumbled, voice rough and croaky from where he'd apparently been asleep, "I was-" he looked down, as though sheepish. He wasn't meant to be here, after all. "Someone broke the lock- I was just looking for somewhere to sleep."