>Personal Log, 03.01.17:
"This city is sick, rotting from the inside as parasites from above and below suck it dry, causing the wounds to fester, to burst, leaving behind cancerous growths that weaken its fiber even more.
The people are blind to this, blind to the depravity hidden below the surface, but I, I am aware, and I know now how to cleanse this city. The answer is so simple now that I see it. . .
The city needs a butcher, someone willing to cut off the tumors, and I am that person, I have been chosen.
My friend comes to me at night, they chose me because I understand now, because my eyes have been opened. Because I have seen the message of my counterpart in the sanctuary.
One day, I hope that my work will be complete, but it is not, so my righteous task continues. . ."
>>307>March 1st, 2017
>Brooklyn, New York
>The darkness of night covers the city that never sleeps, the cloak of shadow created by the cloudy night sky creating little islands of light around the yellow streetlamps. Outside of these areas of light, the darkness is more pronounced than it would be in the natural world, providing the perfect cover for those who would rather their business not be seen by others.
>One of these groups, a collection of people in the middle of a drug deal, is found on this unassuming spring night. More formal than a typical deal, both parties are flanked by their own respective bodyguards, each of them armed and ready to deal with any intruders.
>Just outside of the main deal, around the corner in a different alley, one of the dealer's more typical clientele can be found, waiting for their turn. . .
>As the deal seems to come to an end, and both parties go to shake on the terms, an arrow flies through the air, sailing right into the dealer's eye, sending him flying back to the nearest wall and pinning him to it.
>Before any of the others get much chance to react, three more arrows plummet down from above, each hitting a different target and trapping them against some form of object. Not every arrow is lethal, however, leaving their marks in pain.
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>>315>March 2nd, 2017
>The sun rises over New York City, bathing the city in the rays of light, and revealing the scene from the previous night.
>Before long, the alleyway is closed off, the typical police tape blocking the path into it, with police officers and cars forming impromptu barricades at either side. While a few onlookers try to get a peak beyond the barriers, they are quickly moved onwards by the officers.
>With the cordon effectively established, another police car pulls up, this one an unmarked vehicle, and two men step out, one old and experienced, the other one much younger than him, and clearly lacking experience.
>The two men make their way beyond the police line, seeing the carnage from the previous night, the younger of the two heaving when he sees the bodies, earning a chuckle from the older man.
"It's alright kid, that reaction just shows you've still got a heart. . ."
>The older man looks around quickly before flagging over one of the police officers.Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
>>317>March 2nd, 2017
>The morning sun shines through the window of a Brooklyn apartment, its rays shining down on the occupant, a young woman who looks to be no older than her 20s.
>Suddenly, an alarm goes off, disturbing the woman, who groggily groans and slams her hand down on the clock making the sound, silencing it.
>Satisifed, the woman turns around and murmurs something in her sleep.
>Then, another noise interrupts the woman - the sound of someone knocking of her door. This noise manages to rouse her, pulling her out of bed and slowly over to the door, her journey only stopped to move a chair from a small dining table so that she can reach the peephole.
>With a yawn, the woman looks through the door to see her visitor is someone she recognises, the building's superintendent, and she wearily opens the door on the latch so that she can talk through it.
>With a yawn, she addresses the man:
"Yeaaah?"Post too long. Click here to view the full text.