The people had been gathered outside of his house for days. Old grandmothers seeking protection for their children. Young, brash men who, despite their allusions of bravery, were too afraid to face their problems without him. Representatives from all walks and ways of life were there, camping on his front lawn as if celebrating some patriotic, summer holiday. It was a pleasant and happy atmosphere. It would be better if they went away.
The people outside didn’t want him. They didn’t care about his skills adjusting the pH level of soil, or encouraging pollinators to visit the plants that needed them. No, the people outside were only here because of his reputation. You do one incredible thing, and no one will ever let you live it down.
He leaned out the window, a repeated motion that took a toll on his aching joints, and yelled at the mass of people outside.
“Leave me alone! I’m not a Vampire Hunter! I only killed the one. And that was just because he kept digging up my garden!”
He could yell until his voice was hardly a whisper, but it would do him no good. The people would still be there, begging him to face their monsters, and tromping all over his flowerbeds.