• Nathan Crone's Personal Notebook

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    April 16th, 2015 - 8:21p.m.

    Just things . . . That's all I write . . . It's a wonder I even can get the time to write them when all around me I can hear the cries of a dying city . . . Hell, a dying world . . . I was at the library today just browsing through old books and graphic novels from the 1980 through 2010 and I found myself laughing. Not really at the content I was reading, just the whole damn situation. It was like those author's knew what was going to happen. Everything they had imagined and similar things were occurring now. Well without all the costumed freaks running a muck, either saving the day or destroying it. Reality just seems like a poor imitation of what these people created. As I departed the library to head home I thought about what was happening around me and all the other poor fools that are too worried with ridiculous distractions. Resources are thin, we all knew this was going to happen but even the smartest scientist couldn't have predicting it happening this early. Of course this is causing a lot of fighting and bloodshed. In both stable and unstable areas of the world, death rates are sky rocketing. Humanity could probably join together to fix this problem but the armies were called before the scientists were. Now the fighters are fighting and the politicians are either hiding or dead. But here in what was formerly known as Seattle there is some sort of twisted type of peace. The scum and vermin of the underground has been given a chance to rise and so they have. Littering the city with their disgusting presence. If it isn't drugs or disease killing people, it's other people doing the job. Moral is an unknown word here. Evil is abundant here and I can't stand it anymore. Last week i broke a man's leg for trying to shakedown an old lady. The sight just activated something in me. I had to help her. Maybe more legs should be broke. Arms and necks too, until evil learns that it's not welcome in this world! Of course until all the other cowards realize that nothings going to change. Oh well, I have to get some rest. Let's hope I get another chance to write.

    May 1, 2015 - 5:04p.m.

    I haven't wrote in a while . . . About two weeks have gone by . . . Two weeks of wading through all the sorrow and filth. Walking through these dim streets smelling blood and tears of all the tainted population. Calls of whores and those in pain leaking in my ears. Corpses are hiding in the alleys waiting to emerge. These streets are covered in lies which appear as truth. Not to me, just all the people that don't and do deserve punishment. Anyways, at nine in the morning I arrived at the bank. It was time to cash my check from work and I was feeling rather nasty. All the negative emotion of the city seemed to pour into me, it's surprising that I hadn't torn someone apart by then. Ugh, I need to stop distracting myself, I was patiently waiting in line for several minutes then a commotion at the front of the line occurred. A man had pulled a gun on a teller and begin barking that everyone had to stop moving and fall to the floor. I almost hesitated to do so but I noticed two men who appeared to be having a discussion near the door of the bank had gotten up and locked the doors. They also pulled guns and aimed them at the civilians. People began crying and moaning. They probably deserve this, but I came to a decision. I was going to help these pigs and make sure none of this robbers left here alive. The robbers began talking and a female teller tried to quickly press a button to alert the authorities but was shot twice. She died instantly and the shooter shouted if anyone else tried that the same thing would happen. How cliche but that event was actually useful. An uproar occur which made the head robber (the one that shot the female teller) shouted with a terrifying ferocity, quieting down the pathetic group of civilians. Since they already killed someone they probably thought everyone was terrified and wouldn't do anything. That would be true if I hadn't been there. Just had to wait for the perfect opportunity. The head robber ordered a balding bank manager and the remaining tellers to take him to the where the money was stored. I found the whole scenario hilarious. A classic comic book scene, and it was about time for some heroics. There was a shout from the vault and one of the robbers ran back to see if anything had gone awry. Several seconds passed and then the name Ralph was shouted. Quickly, the robber who had remained by the civilians ran into the vault. Shortly after he left four gun shots echoed through the bank, one for each teller. Damn, unnecessary deaths, at least the manager wasn't shot. Muffled cries arose all around me. A minute or two went by then Ralph came back out and told us that he was going to shoot us one by one for the bank's mistake. Apparently there hadn't been that much money in the vault due to the fact that the bank company shipped the majority of the money to a safer area. I was the fourth one in line, I had to think fast. He shot the first man, then the woman behind him. This was happening to fast! I didn't even have time to watch my life pass through my eyes. Then, as if fate was smiling on me, something perfect happened. The third man, an elderly African American, started shouting at Ralph. Insulting him and basically egging Ralph on. Ralph was getting mighty angry. Then the foolish old man said something I hoped to hear. "Why don't you come up here and shoot me like a man!" Ralph who was several feet, had apparently had enough of this and quickly walked up to the old man and held his gun to his head. He began to unleash a slew of insult giving me a perfect opportunity to take him out. I ran up to him and grabbed his arm and shoved forward causing Ralph to shoot the floor and gasp in frightened surprise. As he tried to react, I punched him in the side causing him to drop his handgun. Then I swiftly kicked him in the stomach causing him to collapse. I grabbed the gun and smacked him in the face until even his mother couldn't recognize him. All his reactions were slow and that's the only reason it worked, my black belt in Tae Kwon Doe probably helped too. I then grabbed his wrist, his pulse slowed in my hand. I heard shuffling and ducked behind the teller's counter. The man he had been talking to by the front of the door appeared by his body and before he could even notice me I shot him in the head. Blood crawled along the floor creating a beautiful mural. Beautiful because the blood belonged to filth. The Head Robber finally came out of the vault. I stood up and said that he should give up if he wanted to live. He shot me in the arm. I began laughing manically. He was obviously very disturbed by this so he shot again but missed. I screamed big mistake and emptied the clip into him. I told the remaining civilians they were safe. They looked at me as if I were a madman was a mad man and they were right. I burst out of the bank, feeling the wind sting my wound. It didn't matter, all that did was getting somewhere safe. I slid along the shadows of alleyways, avoiding the police, feeling the evil of this city. I got home grabbed this and some personal thing then went to my "friend" Vinnie's apartment. The Vinnie i knew died years ago when he started using meth and acid. He was off on one of his acid trips when I arrived and barely even noticed I was there. That is all in the past now. I need to rest. Wrapping that wound wasted the energy I still had. I'll write again soon.

    May 13, 2015 - 1:41a.m - Final Log

    Vinnie attacked me two days ago. I killed him right away, it was what had to be done. That event made me realize what I had to do. I need to don a costumed and clean this wretched city myself. I am now Savior. This city's hatred shall fuel my justice. Why it must be me you ask? It is because no one has the will, power, or courage to.I will save everyone from utter damnation even if they do not deserve it. If anyone gets in my way they will drown in their own blood. I must now discard this Notebook and begin my work. To whomever finds this Notebook, Pray you aren't wicked for if you are the next thing that fills these pages will be your blood...

    [The entries stop. This man was insane. My squad took him down a few hours ago. No SPD officer would ever let anyone drown them in their blood. Crime had been slightly effected by his late night brawls, but nothing's different. He had a point, we're all doomed.]

    To be continued . . .