Difference between revisions of "Nightshift"

"The only way for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing"

I couldn't tell you what great man said this, but they are words that go through my head every single day. Many people call me a killer, a psycho, a murderer. I may be crazy and I've taken lives, but I am no murderer. Murderers take the lives of innocent people. I am what murderers are afraid of.

I know what you are thinking, "what personal tragedy made this guy like this?". Well my parents are still alive and well, nobody close to me was murdered and I was never stranded in some desolate place for years on end. My tragedy was the death of a complete stranger, somebody I've never met or spoken to. It started in Philadelphia.

I was born there, raised there and I figured I would die there. I had a mediocre job, nothing to be remembered by. I didn't have a wife or a girlfriend. I just lived my life and stayed out of the way others' affairs. I didn't like to make waves. So when I was walking down the street on a cold autumn night and heard cries from an alley, I didn't meddle. As I walked by, the girl may have seen me when she yelled for help. And I kept walking. I had a gun, as I always did for protection, but I didn't reach for it. I had a cell phone but I didn't call 911 on it. "So they will steal her purse, worse things could happen" I thought to myself.

I didn't think much of it afterwards until the following morning when I was watching the news. "Local woman sexually assaulted and killed in alley last night...". I turned off the TV and stared at the black screen for what seemed like hours. The only way for evil to prevail is for good men to do nothing. I had heard the saying before but never thought much of it until now. I could have done something, anything, but instead I CHOSE to do nothing. I allowed evil to prevail...my life changed that day.

I called out of work the next day and went to sign myself up for self defense courses. The next few weeks I learned how to fight. I honed my shooting skills and I trained to get myself into shape. It was time to start gathering gear. It's funny how easy it is to get a hold of body armor these days. The guns would be the hard part, guns that can't be traced anyway. I knew where some local gangs would hang out, found somebody selling guns and set up a meeting at an abandoned warehouse. I showed up alone, the dealer came with a friend. They even let me try some out. I pretended not to be a good shot when trying them, imagine their surprise when I turned and put two bullets in the chest of the gun dealer. The friend was frozen for a moment before he reached for his own weapon but it was too late. I stood there for a minute, in shock myself of what I had just done. Then calm. These guns would have just been sold to gang bangers, probably be used in a shooting where some innocent bystander would have been killed. I took what I could fit into a duffle bag and left. Somebody will discover the bodies and call the police, guns will be confiscated and the deaths chalked up to gang violence. I don't think I've ever slept so well as I did that night.

The first time I put on my mask, an odd calm washed over me. Everything I was, gone. I felt invincible...that was my first mistake. The first couple nights were rough, I got the job done but not without my own injuries. I never had to stitch myself up before. But I learned from my mistakes. It wasn't long before I was in the news, what with dead criminals piling up and all. The Nightshift Vigilante they were calling me on account of me working at night. I know, journalists aren't the most clever with these things but it could've been worse. Besides, I didn't care all that much. I only cared that there were bad men off the streets.