Cassano Estate- Private Wine Cellar
🕰️ April 5, 2020 – 2:13 AM
> A dimly lit cellar — private, quiet, reserved for only one guest tonight.
Vincent sits alone at the table, sipping a rare wine.
A man walks in — face partially shadowed, elegant in suit, but worn by time.
---
Unknown Man:
> "Do you remember the old order…?"
"The one you helped tear down?"
---
Vincent (chuckling, without standing):
> "Hmmm… the old order?"
He swirls the glass lazily.
"You mean that little illusion of balance? Yeah… I do.
That sh*t was built on ghost stories and honor among liars."
---
Unknown Man (calm):
> "And Kraven?"
---
Vincent (smirking confidently):
> "Kraven?"
He sets the glass down slowly.
"Of course.
But he's dead.
I killed him, remember?"
"Not worth wasting breath on a corpse I buried myself."
---
Unknown Man (pulls a small black envelope from his coat):
> "That's the problem, Vincent.
You thought he stayed buried."
> Slides a few photographs across the table.
One shows a man entering a small supermarket.
Another — a surveillance shot.
The face isn't exactly Kraven…
But the eyes. The posture. The aura.
It's him.
---
Unknown Man (lower voice):
> "I own that supermarket.
Saw him once.
Had my men trail him."
"Same walk. Same silence.
Same ghost in his f*cking eyes."
---
> Vincent picks up a photo.
His fingers hesitate just a second — barely.
Then he laughs — not loud, not nervous. Just… measured.
---
Vincent (eyes locked on the photo):
> "You know what ghosts are?"
"They're regrets that don't rot fast enough."
He throws the photo back.
"Still not worth my time."
---
> But after the man leaves…
Vincent doesn't move.
He just sits there.
Silent.
Glass untouched.
> Camera slowly zooms on the table…
And Vincent's hand — still resting on the corner of the photo.
Gripping it. Just slightly.
April 6, 2020 – St. Lenoir Chapel, District 4
🕯️ 9:42 AM – Quiet Morning Mass
---
> Inside a peaceful, dimly lit church.
Stained glass windows cast warm light over the empty pews.
Ven sits near the altar — hands folded, eyes closed.
His whisper is silent. No sound, no request — only breath.
---
> From the back, the heavy doors creak open.
Footsteps — slow, deliberate.
Vincent Cassano enters — dressed sharply in black, no guards, no noise.
He walks with calm precision, stopping only two rows behind Ven.
---
Vincent (calm, friendly tone):
> "It's worth praising God?"
---
> Ven blinks once. Finishes his prayer quietly.
Then slowly turns, stands, and walks to sit beside him.
Ven (neutral tone):
> "Yeah.
It's worth it.
Why?"
---
> Vincent smiles — the kind that looks friendly on the surface…
but hides something cold behind the eyes.
Vincent (half-smiling):
> "Haha.
I see…"
> He doesn't blink. Just watches Ven for one second longer than necessary.
---
Vincent (in his mind, silent):
> "So it's true."
---
> Then without another word…
Vincent stands.
Smooth. Controlled.
He walks away —
the echo of his shoes the only sound in the whole chapel.
---
> Ven stays seated.
Unaware.
Unbothered.
He doesn't remember the man.
(End)
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đź’¬ Got a theory? A favorite line? I read every comment. Let me know!
— Kent