The drops of rain pelted down on the young man's head as he hurried through streets.  He was clearly bent on  something desperate, for although he went fast, he would stumble now and then on his way through the night.  The rain washed away the other drops on his face that were tears.  As he ram headlong into the windy darkness, he slipped on a brick and fell forward.  Now there was blood added to the equation.  It burned his eyes as it seeped out of his wound and flowed down into his eyes.  The young man at last gave in and slipped into a faint.

Four hours earlier.

Eric Hemsworth sat in his chair at the restaurant tapping his fingers.  His fidgeting seemed to indicate that he was waiting for someone, as he also checked his watch from time to time.  At last, someone walked up to the table.  A balding man in his mid-forties sat down across from him.

"I'm sorry, this table's reserved."  Eric said rather timidly.

The man simply smiled through unnaturally white teeth.  It was a sinister sort of smile, alerting Eric that something was terribly wrong.

"She's not coming, Eric."  He seemed to enjoy saying this.

Eric was confused.  "I'm sorry, who are you?  And how to you know my name?"

The man only lifted his napkin from his right hand.  A silver object glinted underneath.  Eric looked on in horror as the man cocked his gun......

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