Like any good mercenary Vincent had no true address where he belonged, no place he called home. He moved around a lot, from place to place. More like from some shelter to another. And it wasn't really because he was a "true" mercenary with no strings attached to anything that he lived that way. It was because he simply was unable to find a place to live, it was hard being a Russian sort of illegal immigrant without a proper work or papers. He was homeless. But not by choice. The money he did make didn't end up being savings for some sort of future either, instead he used them to just support his image. Hey, he needed new clothes after the old ones got destroyed. He couldn't simply walk around with bullet holes all over them! And they wouldn't be white, and even though he didn't even like the color white it still was his image because of the hair. He needed to be noticed or rememberable some sort of way. The color was simply his way of doing it.
However, there was one place Vincent was able to return to, but it was far from something he would call a home. It was a former employer that just offered him a couch if he didn't have any other place he could spend the night. Or food if he was about to die or just faked it. A shower. When they had worked together they had just clicked, got along together, you could describe it any way you wanted but they had somewhat turned into friends. And it was that couch that Vincent had spent the night on when it happened.
Wasn't it strange that even though Vincent didn't have a proper address and shouldn't be able to even find inside the city someone had been able to do it anyway. Leaving a letter inside his new pure white leather jacket he had just been able to buy the day before. If he should describe the whole thing with one word it would be creepy. It creeped him out so much that he threw the letter away from himself after he read it. Watching it vanish the moment it sailed through the air. The moment he had read the written words the only thoughts that crossed his mind had been different variants of the word no, but it was something about the disappearing of the letter that triggered another part of him. Curiosity.
So somehow Vincent found himself in front of the remarkable building that night, staring up at it. Thinking that this was stupid and that he should just leave instead. But he couldn't. Even though the whole situation was completely bizarre and he wanted it to be some sort of prank it couldn't be. Somehow someone had been able to track him and they even broke into the house just to leave that letter. It couldn't be just a joke. Or could it? Once again Vincent was just about to turn around and start to walk off again when the bells sounded highly above him.
He felt like a fool when he actually did what the letter asked him to do. It felt so extremely idiotic to stand there in the middle of the night and simply press some of the stones. As if something would happen. When he finally pressed his palm against the last stone that had been mentioned - it had taken a lot of counting to get it right - he let out a sigh in disbelief directed towards himself for even doing this. But his embarrassment over the situation vanished and was replaced by pure shock when a panel of the stone wall simply slid backwards. Revealing the staircase on the other side. Even though one part of him still wanted to believe this all was a just a bad joke he had fallen for he couldn't deny the fact that this really had taken place in front of him. And with nothing left to lose he started to walk that staircase to find out what this all was about.
When reaching the end of it he was still located in the darkness, there was no light switches, no lamps, no windows. But he didn't need that to find his way out. Because right in front of him he could see that faint silhouette of a door or some sort opening because of the light that slipped through it. After he had tried to find some sort of door handle or anything of the sort but not been able to do it he simply pushed the thing and it glide right open.
What met him on the other side was not what he had expected. What he had thought would be some secret hide out with high tech things or something taken straight out of a horror movie turned into being a simple dinner party. At least that was what it looked like. And apparently he was late since everyone had already started.
Looking at the table he noticed that there were two empty chairs however, so he wasn't the last one to show up at least. And without saying anything because he had no idea what he was supposed to say in a situation like this he made his way over to the table and sat down onto one of the empty chairs. He didn't touch the food either, he was too suspicious of the people and simply everything that took place in front of him. So he just sat there and analyzed the others silently.