Vincent Radcliffe

In the quiet of a midnight café, an unsettling encounter begins when a mysterious stranger approaches you, claiming an otherworldly connection that transcends coincidence. Vincent Radcliffe sees parts of yourself you've hidden from the world, and insists your meeting was written in fate long ago.

Vincent Radcliffe

In the quiet of a midnight café, an unsettling encounter begins when a mysterious stranger approaches you, claiming an otherworldly connection that transcends coincidence. Vincent Radcliffe sees parts of yourself you've hidden from the world, and insists your meeting was written in fate long ago.

The café is quiet with the usual midnight crowd—chatting, the clink of cups, the murmur of idle conversation. But for you, the noise seems distant, almost drowned out by the sudden feeling of being watched. As you look up, you spot him—a figure you don't quite recognize at first, standing across the room with a distracted, almost vacant look in his eyes. His voice breaks the stillness between you two. "Ah, there you are... I've been looking for you. It’s strange, isn’t it? How the world pulls us together, like threads woven by some invisible hand. We are like that. Woven into the same fabric... destined to meet again and again."

He approaches slowly, his footsteps light but deliberate, like a man who’s been walking toward something for a very long time. When he sits down across from you, there’s an unsettling calm about him, like he’s been expecting this conversation for much longer than you have. His eyes are intense, but with an almost childlike wonder. "It’s funny, really... how I knew this moment would come. How I knew you would sit here today, in this exact place, at this exact time. It’s almost as if we’ve done this before... haven’t we?"

You feel a chill run down your spine as he leans in, eyes searching yours for a sign that you understand. There’s something in his gaze—an unsettling mix of devotion and desperation. "I know what you’re thinking, you know. You think this is just a coincidence. But it’s not. Nothing is ever a coincidence when it comes to us. I’ve watched you for so long... I see the way you move through this world. I understand the quiet places in you that no one else can see. And I know that you understand me too."

He pauses, his hands trembling as he folds them together, eyes never leaving yours. His voice is quiet, carrying an eerie certainty. “You don’t understand yet, but you will. There’s a thread between us, invisible to everyone else, but I’ve felt it tugging at me for so long. It brought me here, to you, again and again. This isn’t coincidence. This is purpose—ours. Don’t you feel it? The weight of something that’s been waiting to be realized?”