I'm making my way past other people, avoiding them. I turn a corner, bumping into someone. I hit the ground, hard.
"Sorry about that," I mutter, picking myself up, and dusting off my pants. The person in front of me, picking up broken pieces of pottery, looks like Bergamot, but not quite. He's not as pale, with golden-tan skin, probably from being outside, nor is his hair as bright a green. Rather, it is dark green. He turns to look at me, worry in his pale yellow eyes.
"Are you alright?" He asks quietly. His accent is the same as the other townsfolk, but not as heavy. I nod. He extends a hand, and I shake it. "I'm Basil. Sorry about bumping into you. I should pay more attention." I nod again, using my free hand to stab a needle into his other arm. The drug takes effect quickly, and his eyes dim. I take his wrist, pulling him along gently, and he offers no resistance.377Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡcvOsiOxTjB
"Come with me Basil," I say, as we make our way out of the town. "We're going to meet someone special."
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