Vincent couldn't believe this was happening to him. Why him? He was just an ordinary guy. He never did anything. He paid his bills on time, he was friendly, and he never had any enemies. Come to think of it, he never had anyone at all, except for two people.
For the first six years of his life, he had an imaginary friend called Dave. Although he knew Dave wasn't real, he knew what he looked like and how he spoke. Dave and he stayed up long nights, talking. Dave was about the same age as Vincent, and they made good friends with each other. Soon, Vincent drifted away from Dave and got in touch with reality.
He also had a girlfriend, Gabrielle Holdstein. She had long, raven- black hair and a pale face. She was tall, skinny, and extremely beautiful. He had known Gabrielle his whole life, and they had always shared affection for each other. She had lots of different boyfriends, but always broke up and stayed friends with Vincent. They shared secrets and told stories, and on one night Vincent asked her out.
Gabrielle was overjoyed. She spent the whole day preparing; causing Vincent nearly fainted when he opened the door to greet her. She was stunning. Vincent took her to the park, they watched the people walk by, and they kissed.
She was gone the next day.
Vincent did not know why. No one did, in fact. She had arrived at her house at eleven at night and disappeared at ten in the morning. Vincent had always thought she ran away because she couldn't stand the great power of the love between him and her. He hoped that was true.
Vincent followed the man into the coatroom. They stopped and stared at each other. "Maybe you should change," said the man, "You don't want to spend the last hours of your life dressed in black."
Vincent agreed and changed into his regular clothes. He followed the man outside, but grabbed him as he was about to open the car door.
"I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but it's not funny. If what you are saying his true, then I could call the police to arrest you right now. The only reason I'm not is so I can get from you how to stop this poison from working."
"You didn't call the police mainly because you're a scared, pathetic wimp, but you are seventy-five percent correct. You don't know what I'm trying to pull, it isn't funny, and you could have the police arrest me right now."
"I'm glad we agree on at least half then. Now tell me how to get this stuff out of me."
" 't. The most I can do is offer you a drink."
"A drink? A drink? I can't get a drink from you! You might shorten my life down to ten minutes, although now that I think about it, it doesn't really does it?...If I have more time, then I will be able never mind! I'm wasting time here!" He took out a cell phone he had borrowed from an employee and never gave back, "I'm only three digits away from the police. 9. 1. 4-I mean-1. 904 is the number up in Bafgath."
"I can't tell you the about the antidote. The most I can do is offer you a drink. And you can't have the police come. I have important stuff to do."
"More important than poisoning people?"
The man chuckled, "yes, more important than poisoning people. Now I have to get to Bransway."
"Why Bransway?"
"Wanna come with me?"
Vincent thought, and though, and thought some more, "It is better than staying here."
"Let's get in the car."