Vince. The center of the universe. A boring, sunken, perpetually falling civilization of happy people. They, the universe, lived in THE city. The city was located somewhere, but no one knew where that somewhere was. It just existed. And that's how it was. So life went on, the city somehow functioning completely on it's own, appearing to just make resources come out of thin air. It was a peculiar city, to say the least. An irregular city. A somewhat bipolar city, and that's exactly how Vince liked it. Not to say he actually liked it, because he hated it. Every part about the city he hated. Especially the mayor. Oh, how the citizens loved him. Clinging to his every word, beckoning him to speak just to hear his voice. The citizens needed him, but not Vince. Vince was no citizen. Vince was a cop. A sometimes violent, misjudged, and gum loving cop. Yes. Gum. But that part of the story will come to make sense later. Right now, the important part is about Vince and the city. The city was like no city ever seen. For it had never been seen, because it did not exist. Yet, the people live their lives everyday in their beloved city. Millions of people. Sound strange? I'm glad you see my point. You see, the only reason Vince stayed in the city was it had an unlimited supply of gum. For that reason, he could not leave. Everyday, he continued his same routine. Wake up. Go to work. Complain. Arrest no one. Complain again. Go home. That's how it was in the city. Perfect. Vince hated it. Cities needed to have flaws, but this one didn't. It had everything. Including gum. The one thing that seemed to never stray from him. It made him feel. No particular feeling, usually a different one every time, but still, it was feeling. Without it, he was empty. Emotionless. Dead. Just another floating soul on the neglected sidewalk, the sidewalk that no one truly appreciated. The sidewalk was the saddest person in all of the city, and Vince loved her. To him, she was beautiful. Covered in his favorite of all things, she never complained, never once stood up for herself. Just soaked in sorrow. Vince wished he could soothe her pain, fill in the holes in her heart. He wished to have her love, but she was too remorseful to love another. She couldn't handle anymore pain. Her enchanting body sprawled along the city, trying to sleep. Never did she sleep. And, neither did Vince. He couldn't. Even if he wasn't searching for criminals every night on the net, he wouldn't have been able to sleep. He had insomnia. It had nestled against him ever since coming to this city. He didn't mind it though. He didn't like sleep. He felt that by sleeping, he could somehow wake up somewhere else. Even though he hated the city, he needed it. He needed it's cold, harsh feet stomping down on him. He needed that inspiration to break apart the Eden of those citizens. He needed to burn it's soul, cast it out, make it as empty as he was. He needed to show the people the city's true face. A scarred, ugly, and murderous face. That was Vince's goal. A goal he prayed he would accomplish every time he had to inject himself with KV8. It was a dreadfully powerful anesthesia, almost potent, that Vince had to take every night to force sleep. He didn't get the recommended hours, but he got enough to operate. That's all he needed. To him sleep was almost a worse hell than the city. Almost. But, he had things that kept him going. Gum. It was his gold at the end of the rainbow, his messiah, his cure. You see, by coming to the city Vince also picked up a type of OCD. He needed to chew something constantly. Otherwise, he would become frustrated beyond repair. Those were his least respectable times. So, he chewed gum. It protected him. Kept him safe. Even though Vince was a strong, powerful man, he was scared inside. Frightened. His chewable friend kept his mind off his internal workings, building a wall. There was only one word that truly could describe the man. A fortress. Most likely one made of sand, but a fortress nevertheless. It was that that separated him from the others. The very similar, very bland citizens. They kept him paranoid. There was something about them, something about all of them. It was the reason they were all in the city. They shared the same reason. Vince didn't know it yet, he didn't want to know it, but it would be discovered. He would find the truth behind this mystery, or more likely, it would find him. He would relinquish his savory thoughts, find the true meaning. In his quest, he would either become a martyr or plummet into a territory no man should ever go. A place much worse than this so called sanctuary. An emptiness.

Monday. Back to work. Time to face the invisible monsters of the city. Fight the nonexistent crime. Like trying to find the good in people. You can't. Vince knew this. Vince fed on that one idea. It's what kept him alive, kept him going, kept him from quitting the force altogether. Evil was a tantalizing thing to him. Mocking him. Yelling, “where oh where could I be? Oh young Vince, you shall never find me. I creep the city, hiding away, to reveal myself yet another day.” That's what played in his head. That rhyme. It constantly rattled his skull, laughing at him. It was an excruciating feeling, just to hear it. It wanted to break him. Wanted to suck him into the abyss, challenging his ability to separate himself from the others. It tried to make him blend in. That, was the one thing Vince refused to do. He despised the people. He wished he could just make them go away, make them evaporate, make them vanish. The only problem, was Vince was no magician. He couldn't just make people vanish, not just by whim. He couldn't even arrest them, because they all hid behind a mask. A mask of 'righteousness'. A disguise. They were all bad, all gruesome behind the mask, Vince just needed to know how to tear it away. Reveal their severs and scars. Show the citizens their true face, the same face the city adorned. It would be a difficult task, and he could only do it by being an officer of the 'law'. So to work he glided, floating along his lover. He whispered love poems to her as he passed. He would see his lover again, but now he needed to sink into his leather chair. He opened the doors to the station, not even glancing at the smiling receptionist. She was fake. Hiding behind a mask. He quickly pranced to the foot of the stairs, every step just as ample as the other. He sat for a moment, admiring the winding wooden walkway to what was his life. Then, he began his journey up the long, endless staircase. He always used the stairs. The station had an elevator, but Vince refused to go near it. He said that you didn't get as much affection from the floating metal box. It reminded him of the people. Closed off, repeating the exact same pattern everyday. He would kill it if he could, but that was not possible. If he destroyed it, it would be back in working order as soon as you blinked. That's how the city worked, allowing nothing to stay broken forever. But, misfortune misfortune was do the city, for he would break the menace, leaving it shattered for eternity. That was his goal. He reached the top of his magnificent friend, arriving at his floor. As he opened the portal to his existence, chatter flew out, practically knocking him over in the process. The busy bodies of the police force. The closest thing he had to living friends. He stepped forward into the room, passing many, and went straight to his desk. This is where Vince spent his time at work. At a desk. He soaked in the comfort of his chair, the chair he so loved. It was a chair that gave him solace at all times. It was like his own inanimate surgeon. Repairing internal wounds, helping him get through the day, which consisted of playing Pong on his government computer and eating an unhealthy amount of Lays. Work. Such a carefree time. It was terrible. The day passed as if in slow motion, everything in dull colors and monotone. Off colors of gray, only praying to be able to glow, dim with dust. Bland. Vince could take no more. He slowly began to drift, far off into his mental domain, fading away. Sleep began to grip him, whispering in his ear. Wonderful images began to fill his head, and it started pulling him closer, digging in its precise claws. The images changed, turning into demons and fire. Curses and cult rituals, wraths and wretch, snakes and satyrs. Evil had crept up to him, hiding behind fantasy. It too could wear a mask. A trickster it was. Vince felt his surroundings solidify, becoming fire filled catacombs. It burned his skin, his soul. He screamed with agony, the fire crawling into his veins. Then, the fire vanished from the air, bringing a cold dead feeling. An empty feeling. It was something Vince knew all too well. A shadowy figure came forward, bringing the feeling ever so closer. It's breath radiated the wretched, tearing apart his insides. He didn't feel pain, he didn't feel anything except a surrounding cold. Gliding nearer, calling to Vince. It was over. It was finally all over. This would be the end of Vincent Grailes.