The grey city

Note: For Wednesday's entry I am going to write a script of the first comic book featuring this character.

January 30th, 2030

A man lays dead in the alley, bullet wounds in back, pool of blood beneath him. Regulation bullets are ploughed deep into his wounds and the mark of the enclave scars his head. A bag full of clothes and food lays next to him. Stolen. In this hell-hole the government call our country’s capital city the law is upheld to the extremes. His man stole some food, probably for his starving family. He is dressed in rags and is incredibly thin. Not sure how he survived this long without food. As I say this, the enclave will be heading to his family; likely somewhere in one of the homeless areas, hunting them down and killing them. This city has an infection. More deadly than any threat the human race had faced yet. Corruption. This city has an infection and I, I’m the cure.

February 5th, 2030

Investigation continues. The police are ever more vigilant, they cover the public’s head with wool. Drown out the sights, the smells, the sounds. The brutal force of the enclave; seen but ignored. The smell of burning corpses; noticed but ignored. The sound of children crying, as their families are killed in front of them; heard but ignored. While most of the people of the upper classes, simply walk past. Ignoring everything happening around them, I cannot do that. I must take action. The situation of my home today is appalling. It all comes back to the police. They sit in their office chairs, safe from the very people they are supposed to be protecting. Their egos are only satisfied by the amount of power they hold, they tell someone to do something and it is done, anything is done for them. They believe themselves immune from the law, they put aside morals to fuel their ego. Well, morals are my law and no-one escapes my judgement.

February 12th, 2030

I can feel the police moving in on me, they won’t catch me, they never do. Funny thing about a costume and mask, the “crimes” you commit while attached to it, stay with it. I can take the costume off and disappear into obscurity. The enclave cameras buzz overhead, capturing the image of an unfamiliar face. I haven’t taken my costume off in months, but now more then ever I must stay hidden. The corruption of this place sickens me. I have been living among these people for only a few hours and I can already tell that the time spent away from bringing justice to the world will be a living hell. For now I will stop making entries into this. It’s not he normal thing to be doing, now is it?

February 18th, 2030

My self-inflicted confinement from the streets of this diseased city has left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I must continue the investigation as a means of…distraction. Found gun discarded in bins nearby, standard issue pistol. My gloves allow interaction, without risk of tainting evidence. The gun is lifted out of the bin, I slowly pocket it and am on my way. I realise now how much I am distracted from my cause, the police are on a never-ending manhunt. I am the deer in their headlights. I arrive home and peel off my mask. I lay it down on the counter and hang my coat up. The gun is wrapped up in a parcel, soon to be delivered. The stamp and address on the package assure it’s safe arrival at the police station. This gun is a symbol of the many Americanisms we have let, come in and poison our country from within. It ends here. I send a note with it, it reads as follows:

The Police of London, now known as City ten, have drawn the line. I found the attached weapon dumped near the body of a civilian, the civilian in question was starved, cold and stealing, for his family. If these senseless acts of violence do not stop, I shall not rest until the people responsible for these acts against the basic moral fibre of the human race have been silenced. This is your last warning, stop immediately or face redemption.

February 25th, 2030

The police have made their move and in this, their declaration of war. I found a man, laying beside the other, in the same situation. There is a note on his body. “Consider this” It says, “the very moral grey area you fight for is held by us. We kill but only the criminals of the world; it is a crime for the greater good. The men who lay before you are criminals, as you have now announced yourself to be.”

They are wrong. They are the true criminals; they prey on the weak whilst I prey on the unjust. Their set of morals is comparable to the stripes on a zebra crossing; black or white, no middle ground. How can they claim to fight crime when they kill these men and let rapists and killers loose? Corrupt, evil men. I would sooner kill myself then side with one of them. This may be the last entry; I begin my reign of justice tonight.