#voidtheovc

It was at his apartment, at around ten o’clock. The sky had already darkened and the street lights dimly illuminated the streets outside his home. There stood a man, dressed in a blue trench coat and veiled by the shadows of the night, skulking outside his door. The man knocked. Once, ... twice, ... three times, each with a heavy thud that was enough to reverberate through the entire apartment. He waited.

When the door was finally answered, the man in the trench coat was standing there, hands in his pockets, ominously sizing up the person who had answered the door.

He did not provide his name, or his purpose. Not even his stance gave much to go off of; he was aloof, but strangely rigid, and between his attitude and his clothes it wasn’t exactly like a cop or a criminal. Whatever business this man wanted was unable to be guessed by first glance.