Diary of a teenage superhero
- Thread starter Rambo, John J
- Start date
Nightdevil
Civilian
- Joined
- Jan 18, 2003
- Messages
- 156
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 11
Originally posted by Scruffie
I love thist story! Keep it up!
Ditto
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
Cheers guys. Glad you're sticking with it.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
28th February 2003
I've ****ed up. I don't know how bad yet, but i've ****ed up.
I was still pretty banged up during the week there, my ribs in particular were (are) extremely sore, but i basically just had to soldier on with being alive. It's kinda hard though when every move you make makes you want to wince in agony, but all told, i was doing a pretty good job of keeping it hidden and not letting people touch me. My shoulder actually isn't too bad now, (i'm gonna have a heck of a scar though) so apart from my ribs, i'm pretty much ok.
However, during the week there i was up in our studio in university trying to get a bit of work done by myself (at least when i'm on my own, i don't have to pretend i'm not in pain). So i'd gotten a bit of work done and was going down to the lounge for a cup of coffee when i noticed her in front of me, about to go into the lift. I paused and was about to say something suitably arrogant and well.....male, (in keeping with my 'lad' persona) but just as i was about to open my mouth, the stack of books she was cradling in her arms began to slip. Added to this, the door she had just come through swung back and smacked her in the rear. I had instinctively reached forward to stop her books from falling (despite how i act, i'm really not that bad a guy) but the door pushed her from behind and she staggered forward and would have fallen, but for the fact that she clutched at me and grabbed onto me to right herself. Physical contact with another human being is something i've been trying to avoid for the past week, so when she put her hands right. on. my. chest. i couldn't help but make a sound which sounded as though i was in immense pain. Which i was. Let me tell you by the way, this really was quite sore. Moving in itself is painful, but a seven and a half stone girl leaning all her weight on my cracked ribs.....
Anyway, i groaned and recoiled, grabbing at my chest and making (i imagine) suitably painful facial expressions. To add insult to injury, when she held onto me, she had pulled my t-shirt in such a way as to expose the bandage around my shoulder. I sagged against the wall (yes, it was that painful) feeling like i'd just run a marathon. My chest was on fire - and the pain was, quite frankly, overwhelming. I leaned there for no more than a second, if that, but it was one of those rare moments when everything seems to slow down, and you become aware of everything going on around you. Hell song was playing on the radio, the department secretary was typing on her keyboard in her office, a couple of the lecturers were having a meeting in one of the other offices, and she smelled of strawberries. Like i said, it took less than a second for the pain to subside, and, as if i was waking up, i became aware of her just looking at me. She didn't look horrified, or concerned, she just had this weird expression.... almost a calculating look. Her gaze travelled from my shoulder ( i pulled my t-shirt up onto my shoulder) and across my chest ( i took my hand away from my chest) before looking at me directly. My breath was coming back and i was about to say something when she spoke 'Been through the wars have we?' Then she gave another strange look. A shared secret look. The kind of look you would give someone when they've told you something very personal to them and the two of you know that whats been said can never been taken back. It threw me. Then she walked past me and into the lift.
That look..... That look worries me. It feels like a sort of 'i know something about you now' look.
You're probably asking yourself why would i get so worried over something like this. So she saw my bandages and discomfort at being touched in the chest. So what? Well, the thing is, that isn't the only thing thats happened this week.
That happened on the Tuesday. Wednesday, we have class til two. Urban Planning and Management. It can be interesting at times, but i just couldn't focus at all. My ribs were really killing me, and i was acutely aware that she was sneaking glances at me, trying to catch my eye. It was one of those times when you don't feel quite with it. The lecturer had long since been reduced to background fizzle by the waves of pain swamping my body and my own thoughts. The longer i sat there, the more aware i was of the pain, and of her, sneaking looks every now and again. It reminded me of the last class of the last day of term back in school. Everyone would be fidgiting, looking at the clock, not really paying attention to anything the teacher says. As the seconds tick away, the tension becomes palpable until someone breaks the silence by....doing whatever.
Class finishes at two, but at around quarter past one i decided i'd had enough, packed my stuff away, and left. I began to walk into town, lost in my own little world of myriad thoughts (and pain). I walked into town, without even really noticing where i was going or what was around me. I was, in effect, on autopilot. I snapped to attention when i heard a yell ahead of me. As I looked up, i realised that i'd walked right through the city centre to a part of town known as th cathedral quarter. This part of town is slated for a major urban regeneration program, and at the minute is quite dingy and dismal. Its the part of town where junkies, alchoholics and glue-sniffers go to hang. Crime is a major problem in this part of the city. Offices burgaled, shops ransacked, assualt etc. The art college is based there, but normally students stick to the main streets when getting from there to the rest of the city centre. Unfortunately, someone had decided to take a shortcut through the back streets. I looked up to see two guys grabbing at a younger guy (heck barely more than a kid). The kid was carrying one of those huge leather art portfolios and looked like a typical art student. Slightly punk/skater, he had the whole 'alternative' thing going on. I hoped someone would hear the yell and come for help. I really didn't think i was capable of helping. My ribs were grinding away at each other and i just felt abysmal. Besides, it was daytime, someone was bound to be around who could help. I waited, but still no-one came. One of the two guys was holding the kid, while the other went through his pockets, and was about to open the portfolio. Again, the kid yelled, then he spotted me and called out again. I shook my head, resigning myself to my duty, and charged in. The two guys were junkies, and i felled them in a matter of seconds. Nothing too fancy, just a roundhouse kick and a jab to the solar plexus respectively. Immediately after, i collapsed against the wall, grabbing at my chest. My ribs felt like they were going to pop through my chest, and any adrenaline rush i'd gotten to lessen the pain was fading rapidly. I stood there, my breath coming in raggedy bursts, and it was a full minute (at least) before i was able to tell the kid to go. He left, and i sank to the ground, sitting in a puddle of rainwater than had collected at the bottom of the wall of the alley. I closed my eyes and tried willing the pain to go away. No dice. I opened my eyes when i became aware of movement near me. I thought it was the two guys coming round. I looked up and found myself staring into the eyes of her. I stumbled to my feet, faintly aware that she was talking, but i honestly have no idea what she was saying, the pain was just too much. Amid her protests i walked away, hurridly. After considering for a second, i started to run.
I didn't go into class at all on Thursday.
So there we have it. I've ****ed up. It just remains to be seen what, (if any) conclusions she makes from all this.
****.
I've ****ed up. I don't know how bad yet, but i've ****ed up.
I was still pretty banged up during the week there, my ribs in particular were (are) extremely sore, but i basically just had to soldier on with being alive. It's kinda hard though when every move you make makes you want to wince in agony, but all told, i was doing a pretty good job of keeping it hidden and not letting people touch me. My shoulder actually isn't too bad now, (i'm gonna have a heck of a scar though) so apart from my ribs, i'm pretty much ok.
However, during the week there i was up in our studio in university trying to get a bit of work done by myself (at least when i'm on my own, i don't have to pretend i'm not in pain). So i'd gotten a bit of work done and was going down to the lounge for a cup of coffee when i noticed her in front of me, about to go into the lift. I paused and was about to say something suitably arrogant and well.....male, (in keeping with my 'lad' persona) but just as i was about to open my mouth, the stack of books she was cradling in her arms began to slip. Added to this, the door she had just come through swung back and smacked her in the rear. I had instinctively reached forward to stop her books from falling (despite how i act, i'm really not that bad a guy) but the door pushed her from behind and she staggered forward and would have fallen, but for the fact that she clutched at me and grabbed onto me to right herself. Physical contact with another human being is something i've been trying to avoid for the past week, so when she put her hands right. on. my. chest. i couldn't help but make a sound which sounded as though i was in immense pain. Which i was. Let me tell you by the way, this really was quite sore. Moving in itself is painful, but a seven and a half stone girl leaning all her weight on my cracked ribs.....
Anyway, i groaned and recoiled, grabbing at my chest and making (i imagine) suitably painful facial expressions. To add insult to injury, when she held onto me, she had pulled my t-shirt in such a way as to expose the bandage around my shoulder. I sagged against the wall (yes, it was that painful) feeling like i'd just run a marathon. My chest was on fire - and the pain was, quite frankly, overwhelming. I leaned there for no more than a second, if that, but it was one of those rare moments when everything seems to slow down, and you become aware of everything going on around you. Hell song was playing on the radio, the department secretary was typing on her keyboard in her office, a couple of the lecturers were having a meeting in one of the other offices, and she smelled of strawberries. Like i said, it took less than a second for the pain to subside, and, as if i was waking up, i became aware of her just looking at me. She didn't look horrified, or concerned, she just had this weird expression.... almost a calculating look. Her gaze travelled from my shoulder ( i pulled my t-shirt up onto my shoulder) and across my chest ( i took my hand away from my chest) before looking at me directly. My breath was coming back and i was about to say something when she spoke 'Been through the wars have we?' Then she gave another strange look. A shared secret look. The kind of look you would give someone when they've told you something very personal to them and the two of you know that whats been said can never been taken back. It threw me. Then she walked past me and into the lift.
That look..... That look worries me. It feels like a sort of 'i know something about you now' look.
You're probably asking yourself why would i get so worried over something like this. So she saw my bandages and discomfort at being touched in the chest. So what? Well, the thing is, that isn't the only thing thats happened this week.
That happened on the Tuesday. Wednesday, we have class til two. Urban Planning and Management. It can be interesting at times, but i just couldn't focus at all. My ribs were really killing me, and i was acutely aware that she was sneaking glances at me, trying to catch my eye. It was one of those times when you don't feel quite with it. The lecturer had long since been reduced to background fizzle by the waves of pain swamping my body and my own thoughts. The longer i sat there, the more aware i was of the pain, and of her, sneaking looks every now and again. It reminded me of the last class of the last day of term back in school. Everyone would be fidgiting, looking at the clock, not really paying attention to anything the teacher says. As the seconds tick away, the tension becomes palpable until someone breaks the silence by....doing whatever.
Class finishes at two, but at around quarter past one i decided i'd had enough, packed my stuff away, and left. I began to walk into town, lost in my own little world of myriad thoughts (and pain). I walked into town, without even really noticing where i was going or what was around me. I was, in effect, on autopilot. I snapped to attention when i heard a yell ahead of me. As I looked up, i realised that i'd walked right through the city centre to a part of town known as th cathedral quarter. This part of town is slated for a major urban regeneration program, and at the minute is quite dingy and dismal. Its the part of town where junkies, alchoholics and glue-sniffers go to hang. Crime is a major problem in this part of the city. Offices burgaled, shops ransacked, assualt etc. The art college is based there, but normally students stick to the main streets when getting from there to the rest of the city centre. Unfortunately, someone had decided to take a shortcut through the back streets. I looked up to see two guys grabbing at a younger guy (heck barely more than a kid). The kid was carrying one of those huge leather art portfolios and looked like a typical art student. Slightly punk/skater, he had the whole 'alternative' thing going on. I hoped someone would hear the yell and come for help. I really didn't think i was capable of helping. My ribs were grinding away at each other and i just felt abysmal. Besides, it was daytime, someone was bound to be around who could help. I waited, but still no-one came. One of the two guys was holding the kid, while the other went through his pockets, and was about to open the portfolio. Again, the kid yelled, then he spotted me and called out again. I shook my head, resigning myself to my duty, and charged in. The two guys were junkies, and i felled them in a matter of seconds. Nothing too fancy, just a roundhouse kick and a jab to the solar plexus respectively. Immediately after, i collapsed against the wall, grabbing at my chest. My ribs felt like they were going to pop through my chest, and any adrenaline rush i'd gotten to lessen the pain was fading rapidly. I stood there, my breath coming in raggedy bursts, and it was a full minute (at least) before i was able to tell the kid to go. He left, and i sank to the ground, sitting in a puddle of rainwater than had collected at the bottom of the wall of the alley. I closed my eyes and tried willing the pain to go away. No dice. I opened my eyes when i became aware of movement near me. I thought it was the two guys coming round. I looked up and found myself staring into the eyes of her. I stumbled to my feet, faintly aware that she was talking, but i honestly have no idea what she was saying, the pain was just too much. Amid her protests i walked away, hurridly. After considering for a second, i started to run.
I didn't go into class at all on Thursday.
So there we have it. I've ****ed up. It just remains to be seen what, (if any) conclusions she makes from all this.
****.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
11 March 2003
Crap.
I'm sitting here in university, trying to think of something to write, and i can't really think of anything at all. Funny that. How when you're away from the computer you have all these things that you want to say or talk about or get off your chest, but when you're actually sitting down in front of it, your mind goes a complete blank.
Last week was, all told, not too bad. I still haven't gone out patrolling since that monday. Ironically, its my hand thats giving me the most bother now. My chest and shoulder are doing ok, and by ok, i mean i'm not going to die anytime soon. They're still mighty sore though. I'm getting tired of refereing to 'her' as her, so from now, i'm just gonna call her 'K'.
I still don't know what sort (if any) conclusion she may have reached about seeing me in action, but whatever, she's kept pretty quiet about the whole thing. Which may, or may not be a bad thing. Time will tell. Over the past week, we've gotten to talking, not best pals or anything, just.... talking. I feel very self concious though when she's around. She knows. Not about me going out or being the man in black, but she knows something is going on with me. She knows that i'm not the ****y, arrogant sod that i pretend to be in class. That in itself is enough to give me cause for concern. I can't behave properly (as in, my ****y persona) when shes around.
Crap.
I'm sitting here in university, trying to think of something to write, and i can't really think of anything at all. Funny that. How when you're away from the computer you have all these things that you want to say or talk about or get off your chest, but when you're actually sitting down in front of it, your mind goes a complete blank.
Last week was, all told, not too bad. I still haven't gone out patrolling since that monday. Ironically, its my hand thats giving me the most bother now. My chest and shoulder are doing ok, and by ok, i mean i'm not going to die anytime soon. They're still mighty sore though. I'm getting tired of refereing to 'her' as her, so from now, i'm just gonna call her 'K'.
I still don't know what sort (if any) conclusion she may have reached about seeing me in action, but whatever, she's kept pretty quiet about the whole thing. Which may, or may not be a bad thing. Time will tell. Over the past week, we've gotten to talking, not best pals or anything, just.... talking. I feel very self concious though when she's around. She knows. Not about me going out or being the man in black, but she knows something is going on with me. She knows that i'm not the ****y, arrogant sod that i pretend to be in class. That in itself is enough to give me cause for concern. I can't behave properly (as in, my ****y persona) when shes around.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
12 March 2003
I didn't really get to say much yesterday, in part due to the fact that i actually couldn't really think of what it was i wanted to talk about, and also in part due to the fact that i don't really like writing in this when there are other people around. It makes me a bit paranoid.
I'm in uni again, but i'm at one of the OAC's that is generally quite empty and i've got the contrast and brightness settings on my monitor adjusted so that only i can see what i'm typing.
But i still don't really know what to write. I have this...this feeling that theres something i want to get off my chest, or write down, or talk about or whatever, but i don't know what. I suppose the best thing to do would be to just talk about the past coupla weeks in general.
Like i said yesterday, my wounds seem to be healing nicely, but i have this unshakable, nagging thought that that night i came extremely close to buying the farm. Generally, thoughts like that don't worry me, i'm generally a 'if it happens, it happens' kinda guy. If a problem comes along, i deal with it. But i don't know how to deal with this. I could have died. Hell, i should've died, i just got lucky. And theres no-one....nobody i can talk to about this. Funny, i never thought i'd regret not having any close friends.
I wonder what people who think they know me would say if they knew what i did. Would they be amazed? Would they refuse to beleive it? Would they say 'Wow! All this time he's been going out, doing this and we never knew!' Would they admire and respect me?
Or would they be angry? Essentially, what i've done is compartmentalise my life to such an extent that no-one knows the truth about me. Different groups of people see different facets of my personality. Would they be pissed that i tricked them? That i lied to them? That i manipulated them? Because, lets face it, thats exactly what i am doing.
The only person who's gotten a glimpse of what i really do, who i really am, and it turns out to be a girl who has despised me for the better part of a year. Speaking of whom, theres something there now. Something between us, almost tangible. I can feel it each time i look at her, and each time she looks at me. Nothing romantic ( i think) just something....shared. We seem to have an unspoken agreement not to talk about what she has seen of me. Regardless, we act differently around each other now. Polite, to a fault.
Crap.
I didn't really get to say much yesterday, in part due to the fact that i actually couldn't really think of what it was i wanted to talk about, and also in part due to the fact that i don't really like writing in this when there are other people around. It makes me a bit paranoid.
I'm in uni again, but i'm at one of the OAC's that is generally quite empty and i've got the contrast and brightness settings on my monitor adjusted so that only i can see what i'm typing.
But i still don't really know what to write. I have this...this feeling that theres something i want to get off my chest, or write down, or talk about or whatever, but i don't know what. I suppose the best thing to do would be to just talk about the past coupla weeks in general.
Like i said yesterday, my wounds seem to be healing nicely, but i have this unshakable, nagging thought that that night i came extremely close to buying the farm. Generally, thoughts like that don't worry me, i'm generally a 'if it happens, it happens' kinda guy. If a problem comes along, i deal with it. But i don't know how to deal with this. I could have died. Hell, i should've died, i just got lucky. And theres no-one....nobody i can talk to about this. Funny, i never thought i'd regret not having any close friends.
I wonder what people who think they know me would say if they knew what i did. Would they be amazed? Would they refuse to beleive it? Would they say 'Wow! All this time he's been going out, doing this and we never knew!' Would they admire and respect me?
Or would they be angry? Essentially, what i've done is compartmentalise my life to such an extent that no-one knows the truth about me. Different groups of people see different facets of my personality. Would they be pissed that i tricked them? That i lied to them? That i manipulated them? Because, lets face it, thats exactly what i am doing.
The only person who's gotten a glimpse of what i really do, who i really am, and it turns out to be a girl who has despised me for the better part of a year. Speaking of whom, theres something there now. Something between us, almost tangible. I can feel it each time i look at her, and each time she looks at me. Nothing romantic ( i think) just something....shared. We seem to have an unspoken agreement not to talk about what she has seen of me. Regardless, we act differently around each other now. Polite, to a fault.
Crap.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
23rd March 2003
There's an old saying here in Ireland, 'It never rains, it pours.' Now, until recently, i've never had cause to actually consider exactly what that means. I always used to think that it meant - as the man says - 'exactly what it says on the tin'. As in, it doesn't just rain here in Ireland, it pisses out of the skies. I never considered til now that its a more than apt metaphor for the slushball of ****e my life has become.
I was actually feeling better there during the week and had decided to go out this weekend - (i did, but more on that later) - when all of a sudden, my body has to go and contract the flu on me. I don't mean one of those stupid 'sniffly nose and a slight cough' type colds, - i mean the 'debilitating, kick-the-****-out-of-you, head thumping, eyeball popping, limbs so heavy and sore you can barely lift your head, shivering and sweating all over' kind of flu. This is the kind of flu you catch maybe once every few years if you're unlucky enough. Funnily enough, over the past year, i haven't caught so much as a sore throat. I assumed it was perhaps down to the fact that i'm fitter and my body has become more tough and resilient. But the past month (since the 17th of Feb) i guess i've been at my lowest ebb (mentally) to care much about anything. As a result, it would appear that my body has followed suit and decided to allow any infection in.
Regardless, i was out last night. And what a night! It was perfect (debilitating flu aside). It was dark, dismal and foggy. I mean fog so thick you can see about three feet in front of you, and even then, only vague shadows. Perfect Man In Black weather. It was actually my first night out since last month, and it was fantastic. You know how when you have a hobby that you've neglected for a few weeks, and when you decide to go back to it, you wonder if you'll get as much enjoyment out of it? You begin to wonder if maybe it was just a short term fad. Just a phase that you were going through. Something that captured your interest for a short while but something that would ultimately be discarded as soon as you found something even better and more stimulating. You ask yourself 'Will i enjoy this as much as i used to?' And you have an internal battle with yourself, trying to motivate yourself to just go and do it - telling yourself that if you try it again and you don't enjoy it as much, at least you'll know. (I realise by the way that i'm comparing what i do to that of a hobby, and i realise just how....how wrong an analogy that is, but at least now you have an idea of what i'm trying to get across). Anyway, you've psyched yourself up to get back into [your hobby]. One half willing you to enjoy it, the other half waiting, watching, just at the back of your mind. Poised, and ready to say maliciously and victoriously 'See? just a fad'.
And then you go and do it.
And its amazing.
Its so much better than you remembered. You ask yourself 'Why did i ever stop doing this?' And you resolve never to let yourself lose interest in it again.
Thats kinda what last night was like for me. It was like my first time all over again. Unreal.
Despite the flu, (which almost became my excuse not to go out) last night just felt right somehow. I remember as i sat, looking out my window, trying to make up my mind whether or not i should go out, the fog began to roll in, giving the cityscape an incredibly eerie look. Like a ghost town. It was as though the city itself was enticing me to come out and play. And i'm glad i did.
Three attacks prevented around the university area , and that was only in the first hour of my patrol. I think people were beginning to think that the Man in Black had disappeared.
But i'm back now.
The past month its seemed as though every day i've opened the paper to see some new horrifying story about an attack on someone, outside some bar or club. An attack that i could probably have prevented had i not been wallowing in apathy and self-pity.
I don't know if i'm being hard on myself when i say that, but looking over the past month, its as though it (the month) hasn't really happened. I can't really remember one single thing about the past month, bar the important things which have impacted on my double life, and which i've transcribed here.
I think maybe i might have been trying to bite off more than i could chew with the racketeering bust up. Funny, i've never actually thought seriously about that night. And i'm not going to now either. Like i said before, what happens, happens. I deal with it (usually in my own stoic manner) and get on with things.
I'm just thinking of that last sentence. Stoicism and shutting myself away is the way i've always dealt with things. And i'm beginning to think if thats such a good thing. Its taken me over a month to deal with what happened last month. A month wasted. A month where, even though i may not have been able to go out patrolling, i could have been training, or learning more. But i shut myself off (the part that needs to deal with this i mean - 'Party Boy' persona lives on) The part of me that isn't an act, and i totally close him up for a month.
I guess the Man in Black really had disappeared. Not just disappeared as in, 'not around for a bit', but as in 'doesn't actually exist anymore'.
Its scary too, because that in itself has forced me to realise just how close i actually came to throwing in the towel.
And i now realise just how low i've been the past month. And why i've felt so ****. And why every day has been a struggle - mentally more than anything. I hadn't dealt with the events of last month, i just thought i had. I've been deluding myself. I shut myself off from...well, just about everything, each day sinking lower and lower.
Until i realised that for the better part of a month i've been in denial.
Until i went out again on patrol last night.
Until i remembered what it is i do this for.
And all of a sudden, i'm beginning to feel better.
There's an old saying here in Ireland, 'It never rains, it pours.' Now, until recently, i've never had cause to actually consider exactly what that means. I always used to think that it meant - as the man says - 'exactly what it says on the tin'. As in, it doesn't just rain here in Ireland, it pisses out of the skies. I never considered til now that its a more than apt metaphor for the slushball of ****e my life has become.
I was actually feeling better there during the week and had decided to go out this weekend - (i did, but more on that later) - when all of a sudden, my body has to go and contract the flu on me. I don't mean one of those stupid 'sniffly nose and a slight cough' type colds, - i mean the 'debilitating, kick-the-****-out-of-you, head thumping, eyeball popping, limbs so heavy and sore you can barely lift your head, shivering and sweating all over' kind of flu. This is the kind of flu you catch maybe once every few years if you're unlucky enough. Funnily enough, over the past year, i haven't caught so much as a sore throat. I assumed it was perhaps down to the fact that i'm fitter and my body has become more tough and resilient. But the past month (since the 17th of Feb) i guess i've been at my lowest ebb (mentally) to care much about anything. As a result, it would appear that my body has followed suit and decided to allow any infection in.
Regardless, i was out last night. And what a night! It was perfect (debilitating flu aside). It was dark, dismal and foggy. I mean fog so thick you can see about three feet in front of you, and even then, only vague shadows. Perfect Man In Black weather. It was actually my first night out since last month, and it was fantastic. You know how when you have a hobby that you've neglected for a few weeks, and when you decide to go back to it, you wonder if you'll get as much enjoyment out of it? You begin to wonder if maybe it was just a short term fad. Just a phase that you were going through. Something that captured your interest for a short while but something that would ultimately be discarded as soon as you found something even better and more stimulating. You ask yourself 'Will i enjoy this as much as i used to?' And you have an internal battle with yourself, trying to motivate yourself to just go and do it - telling yourself that if you try it again and you don't enjoy it as much, at least you'll know. (I realise by the way that i'm comparing what i do to that of a hobby, and i realise just how....how wrong an analogy that is, but at least now you have an idea of what i'm trying to get across). Anyway, you've psyched yourself up to get back into [your hobby]. One half willing you to enjoy it, the other half waiting, watching, just at the back of your mind. Poised, and ready to say maliciously and victoriously 'See? just a fad'.
And then you go and do it.
And its amazing.
Its so much better than you remembered. You ask yourself 'Why did i ever stop doing this?' And you resolve never to let yourself lose interest in it again.
Thats kinda what last night was like for me. It was like my first time all over again. Unreal.
Despite the flu, (which almost became my excuse not to go out) last night just felt right somehow. I remember as i sat, looking out my window, trying to make up my mind whether or not i should go out, the fog began to roll in, giving the cityscape an incredibly eerie look. Like a ghost town. It was as though the city itself was enticing me to come out and play. And i'm glad i did.
Three attacks prevented around the university area , and that was only in the first hour of my patrol. I think people were beginning to think that the Man in Black had disappeared.
But i'm back now.
The past month its seemed as though every day i've opened the paper to see some new horrifying story about an attack on someone, outside some bar or club. An attack that i could probably have prevented had i not been wallowing in apathy and self-pity.
I don't know if i'm being hard on myself when i say that, but looking over the past month, its as though it (the month) hasn't really happened. I can't really remember one single thing about the past month, bar the important things which have impacted on my double life, and which i've transcribed here.
I think maybe i might have been trying to bite off more than i could chew with the racketeering bust up. Funny, i've never actually thought seriously about that night. And i'm not going to now either. Like i said before, what happens, happens. I deal with it (usually in my own stoic manner) and get on with things.
I'm just thinking of that last sentence. Stoicism and shutting myself away is the way i've always dealt with things. And i'm beginning to think if thats such a good thing. Its taken me over a month to deal with what happened last month. A month wasted. A month where, even though i may not have been able to go out patrolling, i could have been training, or learning more. But i shut myself off (the part that needs to deal with this i mean - 'Party Boy' persona lives on) The part of me that isn't an act, and i totally close him up for a month.
I guess the Man in Black really had disappeared. Not just disappeared as in, 'not around for a bit', but as in 'doesn't actually exist anymore'.
Its scary too, because that in itself has forced me to realise just how close i actually came to throwing in the towel.
And i now realise just how low i've been the past month. And why i've felt so ****. And why every day has been a struggle - mentally more than anything. I hadn't dealt with the events of last month, i just thought i had. I've been deluding myself. I shut myself off from...well, just about everything, each day sinking lower and lower.
Until i realised that for the better part of a month i've been in denial.
Until i went out again on patrol last night.
Until i remembered what it is i do this for.
And all of a sudden, i'm beginning to feel better.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
22 April 2003
Its been a while. Again.
Ive avoided writing in this for a while, I cant deny that. Its not because Ive been busy, or because Ive been too engrossed in my nighttime activities (although I have been out regularly) or because Ive found a new love of my life (which I havent). Its actually quite simple really. Ive avoided writing because I know what I want to write about, what I need to write about, but once I say what it is I want to say, it becomes real. It becomes so I cant ignore it and pretend it isnt actually happening.
My mum and dad went out for an evening one day a few weeks back. I was up in my room reading Moby Dick and didnt realise theyd gone til I came downstairs and was told by my brother. I was about to ask where theyd gone, when I suddenly realised I didnt particularly care where theyd gone.
Ugh . Just reading that line makes me feel empty. You know how when you go into work, or school, or uni and you ask someone Hey, hows it going? You out at the weekend? You ask, and you wait for their answer. Maybe they went to the cinema, maybe they went to a bar, maybe they got lucky and pulled that girl theyve been telling you about since whenever. Maybe youre just asking out of politeness, or you want to fill the silence, or because youre genuinely interested in the person and what they do at weekends. The point is, you ask, and you listen. A conversation happens, theres a back and forth exchange.
I dont think I can do that anymore.
In my family, Ive always been regarded as the quiet, shy, younger brother. The one who always has his head stuck in a book, or on the internet. The younger brother who, at family gatherings, hovers in the background. Not shut away in my room certainly, but not exactly part of the gathering either. Thats never really bothered me before, but now ..
Its when I didnt bother to ask after my parents that evening. I realised that Ive been doing this quite a bit recently. If my brother or sister or indeed, parents, tell me something, or are talking to me, I listen and answer. I catalogue any information they give me about where they are going or what they are doing, not out of any feelings of interest, but because cataloguing and storing information in my cranium is something I do automatically. I give all the outward signs that Im listening, that Im attentive, and to some extent I am, I just dont feel like Im connected anymore. Consequentially, most of my conversations with my immediate family are terse and monosyllabic. Its as though theres something missing, something that prevents me from emoting with them, and as a result, I feel alienated.
The more I think about this, the more it becomes apparent that this trait is beginning to pervade my other social circles. No .thats not strictly true. I have a few close friends (well, as close as I can be to someone without telling them the complete truth) both in uni and work, but Im becoming afraid that this will start to happen to them as well. Will I get to a stage where I begin to block them out as well? Will I get to a stage where, rather than ask about their weekend or life in general, I just practically ignore them?
I just feel like its wrong for me to be this way. Like theres something I missed along the way when I grew up, some social skill or quality that I passed by, and I begin to wonder is this an effect of my training? Has my (pretty much) single-minded focus on ridding my city of crime deadened my relationship with other people? Or, as another possibility, is this all simply a part of growing up? Is this some phase of adolescence that Ill work through within a few months?
Ironically, I find myself able to emote and empathise quite easily with people I encounter on my patrols. Patrolling is pretty much the only time I do feel connected, and consequentially, Ive been going out more regularly, and staying out a lot longer.
So what else? Well, life goes on, as they say. Ive been going out patrolling, kicking bad guys butts and being a superhero/vigilante type character in general. Ive actually been designing a uniform of sorts. Ive sewn black leather onto areas of my tops and bottoms. Elbows, knees, wrists, ankles etc - areas that are most likely to get torn or battered during my patrols. Im still working on it though. Fashion design was never my forte in art class. Ive also begun to discover the possibilities of climbing various buildings during my patrols. This new dimension to my patrols came about quite by accident during rock climbing class a month ago or so. I was joking with one of the guys about being able to climb buildings like Spider-man when he turned and said in all seriousness, Actually, it can be done pretty easily. Some buildings here in Belfast are so easy to climb, He looked around furtively, In fact, some of us usually go after class and scale a few buildings just for the hell of it He winked, You should come with us tonight, I reckon youd get a kick out of it. So I did.
He was right, it is pretty easy, once you get the hang of it, and its opened up parts of the entire city to me. Patrol routes which may have once taken me a while to cover can now be done in a matter of ten or fifteen minutes.
Speaking of which, its getting late, Id better go. Til the next time .
Its been a while. Again.
Ive avoided writing in this for a while, I cant deny that. Its not because Ive been busy, or because Ive been too engrossed in my nighttime activities (although I have been out regularly) or because Ive found a new love of my life (which I havent). Its actually quite simple really. Ive avoided writing because I know what I want to write about, what I need to write about, but once I say what it is I want to say, it becomes real. It becomes so I cant ignore it and pretend it isnt actually happening.
My mum and dad went out for an evening one day a few weeks back. I was up in my room reading Moby Dick and didnt realise theyd gone til I came downstairs and was told by my brother. I was about to ask where theyd gone, when I suddenly realised I didnt particularly care where theyd gone.
Ugh . Just reading that line makes me feel empty. You know how when you go into work, or school, or uni and you ask someone Hey, hows it going? You out at the weekend? You ask, and you wait for their answer. Maybe they went to the cinema, maybe they went to a bar, maybe they got lucky and pulled that girl theyve been telling you about since whenever. Maybe youre just asking out of politeness, or you want to fill the silence, or because youre genuinely interested in the person and what they do at weekends. The point is, you ask, and you listen. A conversation happens, theres a back and forth exchange.
I dont think I can do that anymore.
In my family, Ive always been regarded as the quiet, shy, younger brother. The one who always has his head stuck in a book, or on the internet. The younger brother who, at family gatherings, hovers in the background. Not shut away in my room certainly, but not exactly part of the gathering either. Thats never really bothered me before, but now ..
Its when I didnt bother to ask after my parents that evening. I realised that Ive been doing this quite a bit recently. If my brother or sister or indeed, parents, tell me something, or are talking to me, I listen and answer. I catalogue any information they give me about where they are going or what they are doing, not out of any feelings of interest, but because cataloguing and storing information in my cranium is something I do automatically. I give all the outward signs that Im listening, that Im attentive, and to some extent I am, I just dont feel like Im connected anymore. Consequentially, most of my conversations with my immediate family are terse and monosyllabic. Its as though theres something missing, something that prevents me from emoting with them, and as a result, I feel alienated.
The more I think about this, the more it becomes apparent that this trait is beginning to pervade my other social circles. No .thats not strictly true. I have a few close friends (well, as close as I can be to someone without telling them the complete truth) both in uni and work, but Im becoming afraid that this will start to happen to them as well. Will I get to a stage where I begin to block them out as well? Will I get to a stage where, rather than ask about their weekend or life in general, I just practically ignore them?
I just feel like its wrong for me to be this way. Like theres something I missed along the way when I grew up, some social skill or quality that I passed by, and I begin to wonder is this an effect of my training? Has my (pretty much) single-minded focus on ridding my city of crime deadened my relationship with other people? Or, as another possibility, is this all simply a part of growing up? Is this some phase of adolescence that Ill work through within a few months?
Ironically, I find myself able to emote and empathise quite easily with people I encounter on my patrols. Patrolling is pretty much the only time I do feel connected, and consequentially, Ive been going out more regularly, and staying out a lot longer.
So what else? Well, life goes on, as they say. Ive been going out patrolling, kicking bad guys butts and being a superhero/vigilante type character in general. Ive actually been designing a uniform of sorts. Ive sewn black leather onto areas of my tops and bottoms. Elbows, knees, wrists, ankles etc - areas that are most likely to get torn or battered during my patrols. Im still working on it though. Fashion design was never my forte in art class. Ive also begun to discover the possibilities of climbing various buildings during my patrols. This new dimension to my patrols came about quite by accident during rock climbing class a month ago or so. I was joking with one of the guys about being able to climb buildings like Spider-man when he turned and said in all seriousness, Actually, it can be done pretty easily. Some buildings here in Belfast are so easy to climb, He looked around furtively, In fact, some of us usually go after class and scale a few buildings just for the hell of it He winked, You should come with us tonight, I reckon youd get a kick out of it. So I did.
He was right, it is pretty easy, once you get the hang of it, and its opened up parts of the entire city to me. Patrol routes which may have once taken me a while to cover can now be done in a matter of ten or fifteen minutes.
Speaking of which, its getting late, Id better go. Til the next time .
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
8th June 2003
Strange, i don't seem to have as much time to write in this as i once used to. I think that the more time you have to do something, the more you put it off. I'm finished university now, for good, so i've got to start looking for a real job - as opposed to my part time shop job downtown.
Funny, up until now, any job application forms i've filled in have been pretty basic. Name, Address, Education, Hobbies etc. Nothing too strenuous. But jobs i'm applying for now seem to require me to write an entire thesis about myself. I've got one in front of me right now. It goes through all the standard questions, then, just when you think you're done, you turn the page to find :
Question 1 (a) Demonstrate how you possess practical experience in public relations
Maybe i should write about the other night.
I was out patrolling around the Lower Ormeau Road part of town. There have been a few attacks on people in this part of town recently, so i thought i'd extend my range of patrols to include this area.
Long story short, i came across a couple of yobs assaulting an old homeless guy who had done nothing wrong other than pick the wrong doorway to sleep in. The old guy was being pushed from one guy to the other, almost s though they were tossing a ball. He was spinning round, mumbling incoherently yet plainly afraid. The two guys were laughing at his state of distress, and any time he went to move off in a different direction, one moved to intercept him and push him back to the other.
I was on top of the flats at the lower end of Rugby Road, just where the street meets Ormeau Avenue itself and looking down on this as it happened. Abruptly, the old guy stumbled and fell, collpasing onto his knees in between the two fellas. One of the hoodlums moved in towards the old guy and was rewarded with a torrent of vomit from the old guy all over his shoes. As the jerk with spew shoes became enraged at this, i unwound a rope from around my waist, made a loop and fastened it around one of the chimneys on the corner. I then wrapped the end round my right hand a few times, ran to the end, and jumped.
Before i go any farther, i have to make clear that i was, in fact, using bungee cord - carefully measured by yours truely to stretch (with a suitable weight i.e. me) to almost the height of said flats.
I jumped from the corner, and in such a direction, that the bungee cord snapping back pulled me in an arc almost parallel to the building front, and directly in between the two guys. Talk about making an entrance. From their point of view, i had quite literally come out of noweher, and they bolted before i could even say anything. I knelt down and hoisted the old guy up, letting him lean against me. I then walked him the short distance up Ormeau Avenue to one of the homeless shelters in the area. I propped him against the wall, rang the doorbell and did a runner back to collect my rope and skedaddle. Talk about a public relations coup.
Question 1 (b) Demonstrate how you possess at least one years experience in a post involving information and communication work.
Perhaps i should write about my experience a few months ago with the racketeers in my part of the town. I could write about how i collected any and all information that i could about their activities. I then 'communicated' my displeasure at their presence in my city through information exchenge with the local boys in blue.
Question 2: As the post requires extensive periods of outdoor work, demonstrate how you possess the nescessary physical attributes for the position i.e fitness, strength, endurance etc. These will be assessed by a physical examination.
......
So there we have it. How my life as a teenage superhero can help me get a job. Maybe i should just write in my CV: Last job held - Superhero.
Strange, i don't seem to have as much time to write in this as i once used to. I think that the more time you have to do something, the more you put it off. I'm finished university now, for good, so i've got to start looking for a real job - as opposed to my part time shop job downtown.
Funny, up until now, any job application forms i've filled in have been pretty basic. Name, Address, Education, Hobbies etc. Nothing too strenuous. But jobs i'm applying for now seem to require me to write an entire thesis about myself. I've got one in front of me right now. It goes through all the standard questions, then, just when you think you're done, you turn the page to find :
Question 1 (a) Demonstrate how you possess practical experience in public relations
Maybe i should write about the other night.
I was out patrolling around the Lower Ormeau Road part of town. There have been a few attacks on people in this part of town recently, so i thought i'd extend my range of patrols to include this area.
Long story short, i came across a couple of yobs assaulting an old homeless guy who had done nothing wrong other than pick the wrong doorway to sleep in. The old guy was being pushed from one guy to the other, almost s though they were tossing a ball. He was spinning round, mumbling incoherently yet plainly afraid. The two guys were laughing at his state of distress, and any time he went to move off in a different direction, one moved to intercept him and push him back to the other.
I was on top of the flats at the lower end of Rugby Road, just where the street meets Ormeau Avenue itself and looking down on this as it happened. Abruptly, the old guy stumbled and fell, collpasing onto his knees in between the two fellas. One of the hoodlums moved in towards the old guy and was rewarded with a torrent of vomit from the old guy all over his shoes. As the jerk with spew shoes became enraged at this, i unwound a rope from around my waist, made a loop and fastened it around one of the chimneys on the corner. I then wrapped the end round my right hand a few times, ran to the end, and jumped.
Before i go any farther, i have to make clear that i was, in fact, using bungee cord - carefully measured by yours truely to stretch (with a suitable weight i.e. me) to almost the height of said flats.
I jumped from the corner, and in such a direction, that the bungee cord snapping back pulled me in an arc almost parallel to the building front, and directly in between the two guys. Talk about making an entrance. From their point of view, i had quite literally come out of noweher, and they bolted before i could even say anything. I knelt down and hoisted the old guy up, letting him lean against me. I then walked him the short distance up Ormeau Avenue to one of the homeless shelters in the area. I propped him against the wall, rang the doorbell and did a runner back to collect my rope and skedaddle. Talk about a public relations coup.
Question 1 (b) Demonstrate how you possess at least one years experience in a post involving information and communication work.
Perhaps i should write about my experience a few months ago with the racketeers in my part of the town. I could write about how i collected any and all information that i could about their activities. I then 'communicated' my displeasure at their presence in my city through information exchenge with the local boys in blue.
Question 2: As the post requires extensive periods of outdoor work, demonstrate how you possess the nescessary physical attributes for the position i.e fitness, strength, endurance etc. These will be assessed by a physical examination.
......
So there we have it. How my life as a teenage superhero can help me get a job. Maybe i should just write in my CV: Last job held - Superhero.
I just discovered this today and ts great. The idea alone is worth reading it but your very talented so it keeps me intrested.
A little constructive crictisim if thats ok, I would love for your story to get a little more.....epic. maybe an actual storyline or sumthing instead of descriptions of your nightly patrols, which are great to read but i think it would be cool if went a different route. Maybe your character could meet another superhero from neighboring town or introduce an villin, the possibilites are endless.
Also it would be cool if the man in black wore a mask, i'm just thinking reality here but since you say that newspapers are looking for him he will eventually got photgraphed or his face spotted by an onlooker. A simple ski mask would do fine but this is just my opinion, do what u want its your universes.
Whats gonna happen with the K story line? Can't wait for the next instalment!
A little constructive crictisim if thats ok, I would love for your story to get a little more.....epic. maybe an actual storyline or sumthing instead of descriptions of your nightly patrols, which are great to read but i think it would be cool if went a different route. Maybe your character could meet another superhero from neighboring town or introduce an villin, the possibilites are endless.
Also it would be cool if the man in black wore a mask, i'm just thinking reality here but since you say that newspapers are looking for him he will eventually got photgraphed or his face spotted by an onlooker. A simple ski mask would do fine but this is just my opinion, do what u want its your universes.
Whats gonna happen with the K story line? Can't wait for the next instalment!
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
25th June 2003
I'm in a hurry, so i'll keep this brief. Somethings wrong. I don't know what exactly, i just have this.... this sense that something has happened. Something that i haven't picked up on but should have, something that has happened and is irreversable, and is very, very bad. I'm racking my brains right now, and it seems as though the answer is right there, just waiting for me to come across it.
It's like when you leave the house for the day. You leave, you lock the door, and you go to work/school/ wherever. During the day, you get the feeling you've forgotten to do something. You sit there, and you think to yourself, 'what have i [not] done?' You think about it all day, but not really thinking about it, you just let it worry at you, you let the soft, nagging doubt of whatever it is you've forgotten to gnaw away at your mind, forbidding any real thinking, and as a consequence, any work being done. Then you go home to find the house burned to the ground. Or something.
Something like that. Only more so. This is something thats staring me in the face. Something thats so obvious i'll laugh once i get the answer. At least, i would laugh if the feeling wasn't so foreboding. The feeling gradually increased during the day, but it started this morning as i was doing...... something. I can't remember what. I need to really go think about this....
I'm in a hurry, so i'll keep this brief. Somethings wrong. I don't know what exactly, i just have this.... this sense that something has happened. Something that i haven't picked up on but should have, something that has happened and is irreversable, and is very, very bad. I'm racking my brains right now, and it seems as though the answer is right there, just waiting for me to come across it.
It's like when you leave the house for the day. You leave, you lock the door, and you go to work/school/ wherever. During the day, you get the feeling you've forgotten to do something. You sit there, and you think to yourself, 'what have i [not] done?' You think about it all day, but not really thinking about it, you just let it worry at you, you let the soft, nagging doubt of whatever it is you've forgotten to gnaw away at your mind, forbidding any real thinking, and as a consequence, any work being done. Then you go home to find the house burned to the ground. Or something.
Something like that. Only more so. This is something thats staring me in the face. Something thats so obvious i'll laugh once i get the answer. At least, i would laugh if the feeling wasn't so foreboding. The feeling gradually increased during the day, but it started this morning as i was doing...... something. I can't remember what. I need to really go think about this....
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
20th July 2003
I've re-read this entire...diary, if you could call it that. And i wish....I wish that I could go back a few months and have the problems i was having then. My injuries, K, my insecurities about myself. All seem small potatos compared to whats been happening recently. And yet, it isn't even a recent occurence. Rather, its a recurring chain of events that i've only recently cottened on to. Despite all the clues being there, despite the fact that what has happened, has happened practically right in front of me, it's taken me til now to see it. I feel so ashamed. I feel so guilty. Christ, even as i'm typing this, i'm crying. It's my fault.
Three people are dead, and its my fault.
I should have seen this coming. Hell, i've entertained the thought, i've even written about it in this, but i never actually thought it would happen. The clues have been there. I just didn't see them for what they were - hindsight being 20/20 and all that....
Towards the end of last month, i'd been increasingly aware of something being wrong. Something that, if i'd been a bit less preoccupied with my own petty problems i would have recognised the first time it happened. As a matter of fact, i did write about it in this, i just glossed over it as though it was a mere triviality, nothing important.
23rd January 2003 - a guy, no more than a kid, was stabbed outside a club in Belfast. He survived, but only because there happened to be a qualified doctor in the club that night. Witnesses say the young man was attacked without provocation, and the attacker fled immediatley.
18th Feb 2003 - A man, walking his dog late at night through Ormeau Park was brutally assaulted and strangled to death. An elderly couple who found the body were able to recall seeing a person running towards the Ravenhill Road entrance from the crime scene.
25th March 2003 - A young man, believed to be in his early 20's was found lying in a pool of his own blood and vomit beneath the statue of Lord Kelvin in Belfasts' Botanic park. He had been bludgeoned to death by a blunt intrument. A girl who witnessed it was unable to stop the attacker from escaping.
24th June 2003 - A man was brutally kicked to death in a shocking attack outside the Fly. Onlookers say the assailant was laughing and shouting 'Maybe this time he'll get the message'. The assailant escaped.
All the murders had four things in common:
All the victims were out late at night
All the victims were young men.
All the victims were wearing black.
Jesus, i don't know what to do about this. Should i turn myself in? Three people, guys about my age - hell, probably could have been friends of mine under the right circumstances - are dead, and its my fault. I don't know what to do. I knew that what i do would have consequences for others. In my naivety, i assumed that those consequences would be for the better. I was wrong.
Someone out there has been trying to contact me for the best part of half a year, and i've been too self obsessed to get the message. Heh, christ, i think i'm gonna waterlog my keyboard. But i can't help it. I can't stop the tears running down my face as i think about these people. And about who killed them.
You read about this sort of thing in comics. Spider-man has his Green Goblin, Batman has his Joker, Superman has his Lex Luthor....
Witnesses at all of the above crimes were able to give a brief description of the assailant.
The fourth thing in common.
The assailant was dressed completely in white.
I've re-read this entire...diary, if you could call it that. And i wish....I wish that I could go back a few months and have the problems i was having then. My injuries, K, my insecurities about myself. All seem small potatos compared to whats been happening recently. And yet, it isn't even a recent occurence. Rather, its a recurring chain of events that i've only recently cottened on to. Despite all the clues being there, despite the fact that what has happened, has happened practically right in front of me, it's taken me til now to see it. I feel so ashamed. I feel so guilty. Christ, even as i'm typing this, i'm crying. It's my fault.
Three people are dead, and its my fault.
I should have seen this coming. Hell, i've entertained the thought, i've even written about it in this, but i never actually thought it would happen. The clues have been there. I just didn't see them for what they were - hindsight being 20/20 and all that....
Towards the end of last month, i'd been increasingly aware of something being wrong. Something that, if i'd been a bit less preoccupied with my own petty problems i would have recognised the first time it happened. As a matter of fact, i did write about it in this, i just glossed over it as though it was a mere triviality, nothing important.
23rd January 2003 - a guy, no more than a kid, was stabbed outside a club in Belfast. He survived, but only because there happened to be a qualified doctor in the club that night. Witnesses say the young man was attacked without provocation, and the attacker fled immediatley.
18th Feb 2003 - A man, walking his dog late at night through Ormeau Park was brutally assaulted and strangled to death. An elderly couple who found the body were able to recall seeing a person running towards the Ravenhill Road entrance from the crime scene.
25th March 2003 - A young man, believed to be in his early 20's was found lying in a pool of his own blood and vomit beneath the statue of Lord Kelvin in Belfasts' Botanic park. He had been bludgeoned to death by a blunt intrument. A girl who witnessed it was unable to stop the attacker from escaping.
24th June 2003 - A man was brutally kicked to death in a shocking attack outside the Fly. Onlookers say the assailant was laughing and shouting 'Maybe this time he'll get the message'. The assailant escaped.
All the murders had four things in common:
All the victims were out late at night
All the victims were young men.
All the victims were wearing black.
Jesus, i don't know what to do about this. Should i turn myself in? Three people, guys about my age - hell, probably could have been friends of mine under the right circumstances - are dead, and its my fault. I don't know what to do. I knew that what i do would have consequences for others. In my naivety, i assumed that those consequences would be for the better. I was wrong.
Someone out there has been trying to contact me for the best part of half a year, and i've been too self obsessed to get the message. Heh, christ, i think i'm gonna waterlog my keyboard. But i can't help it. I can't stop the tears running down my face as i think about these people. And about who killed them.
You read about this sort of thing in comics. Spider-man has his Green Goblin, Batman has his Joker, Superman has his Lex Luthor....
Witnesses at all of the above crimes were able to give a brief description of the assailant.
The fourth thing in common.
The assailant was dressed completely in white.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
23rd August 2003
I.... I'm a mess. I don't know what to do. I go out every night now, looking for this guy... this murderer. Leave it to the media to trivialise whats been happening - what he's been doing. They call him the milkybar man!!
Jesus Christ! A man is going around dressed in white, brutally killing young men and the media give him a nickname!
I haven't been sleeping. I think the most i've gotten the past month has been about an hour or two a night. I've been out all night every night and any time i do go to bed, i can't sleep because of the guilt. I never beleived that i could feel as miserable... or as helpless, as i do now. Every day since my last entry has been a nightmare. Its like every day is the exact same. There has been nothing to distinguish one day from another - as though i'm in a permanent state of fugue. I've been going to work, going to the gym, training, everything i normally do, but i can't recollect a single, solitary thing from any of these. My life is a blur. And on top of that is the permanent sick, hollow feeling in my gut. The feeling that isn't letting me sleep. The feeling that isn't letting me do my job.
I'm quitting. As soon as i catch this guy....this.... excuse for a human being, i'm giving up. I can't do this, i won't do this. I thought i was prepared for anything. I never imagined i would be faced with something like this. I will catch this person, i will not rest until he is caught, but after that, i stop.
I.... I'm a mess. I don't know what to do. I go out every night now, looking for this guy... this murderer. Leave it to the media to trivialise whats been happening - what he's been doing. They call him the milkybar man!!
Jesus Christ! A man is going around dressed in white, brutally killing young men and the media give him a nickname!
I haven't been sleeping. I think the most i've gotten the past month has been about an hour or two a night. I've been out all night every night and any time i do go to bed, i can't sleep because of the guilt. I never beleived that i could feel as miserable... or as helpless, as i do now. Every day since my last entry has been a nightmare. Its like every day is the exact same. There has been nothing to distinguish one day from another - as though i'm in a permanent state of fugue. I've been going to work, going to the gym, training, everything i normally do, but i can't recollect a single, solitary thing from any of these. My life is a blur. And on top of that is the permanent sick, hollow feeling in my gut. The feeling that isn't letting me sleep. The feeling that isn't letting me do my job.
I'm quitting. As soon as i catch this guy....this.... excuse for a human being, i'm giving up. I can't do this, i won't do this. I thought i was prepared for anything. I never imagined i would be faced with something like this. I will catch this person, i will not rest until he is caught, but after that, i stop.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
20th September 2003
For the past few months, the shambles that my life has become has been a nightmare. A person - a sick, twisted excuse for a human being - has been actively trying to set him or herself up as my antithesis. Where i try to help people, he/she has tried to cause harm. Where i save peoples lives, this person tries to end them. Where i see myself as a normal person, trying to do a bit of good in this ****hole of a world, this person sees themself as an evil genius, malicious, cruel, and above reproach.
I've been patrolling the same part of town for almost a month now. Each night, i've taken care that i'm seen.
A fleeting glimpse, or out of the corner of ones eye, perhaps as a shadow scaling an alleyway wall, but i've made sure that people on the streets are aware of my presence in this part of the city. I've made sure that they know. And i've made sure of the whispers that follow.
Perhaps a girl telling her friends in a bar of how her neighbours' best friends' cousin was rescued by the Man in Black in Gresham Street. Or maybe a bunch of yobs boasting of how they were able to beat the crap out of the Man in Black (as if) down in Lower Yarin Street. Whatever, the important fact is that it is now uncommon knowledge that the Man in Black has been particularly active in this part of town over the past month.
I have no clues as to who this mystery person is, or why he has decided to set himself (herself?) up as my opposite. I have nothing to go on at all. So i've decided that my best course of action is to lure him out. A crude plan, but hopefully effective.
I can....almost feel that something is going to happen tonight. There's almost a feeling of butterflies in my stomach. My senses feel heightened, like i'm aware of things going on around me that i wouldn't normally notice. Kinda like when you've been going out with a girl for a short while and things are getting to the stage where you know that tonight is the night. No-one needs to explain it to you. You just know that tonight is the night.
For the past couple of months, my life has become a waking nightmare.
The nightmare ends tonight.
For the past few months, the shambles that my life has become has been a nightmare. A person - a sick, twisted excuse for a human being - has been actively trying to set him or herself up as my antithesis. Where i try to help people, he/she has tried to cause harm. Where i save peoples lives, this person tries to end them. Where i see myself as a normal person, trying to do a bit of good in this ****hole of a world, this person sees themself as an evil genius, malicious, cruel, and above reproach.
I've been patrolling the same part of town for almost a month now. Each night, i've taken care that i'm seen.
A fleeting glimpse, or out of the corner of ones eye, perhaps as a shadow scaling an alleyway wall, but i've made sure that people on the streets are aware of my presence in this part of the city. I've made sure that they know. And i've made sure of the whispers that follow.
Perhaps a girl telling her friends in a bar of how her neighbours' best friends' cousin was rescued by the Man in Black in Gresham Street. Or maybe a bunch of yobs boasting of how they were able to beat the crap out of the Man in Black (as if) down in Lower Yarin Street. Whatever, the important fact is that it is now uncommon knowledge that the Man in Black has been particularly active in this part of town over the past month.
I have no clues as to who this mystery person is, or why he has decided to set himself (herself?) up as my opposite. I have nothing to go on at all. So i've decided that my best course of action is to lure him out. A crude plan, but hopefully effective.
I can....almost feel that something is going to happen tonight. There's almost a feeling of butterflies in my stomach. My senses feel heightened, like i'm aware of things going on around me that i wouldn't normally notice. Kinda like when you've been going out with a girl for a short while and things are getting to the stage where you know that tonight is the night. No-one needs to explain it to you. You just know that tonight is the night.
For the past couple of months, my life has become a waking nightmare.
The nightmare ends tonight.
Colossus24
Civilian
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2003
- Messages
- 657
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 11
And he got his a** kicked hence no more posts....j/k I just saw this and i love it keep going.
Rambo, John J
Sidekick
- Joined
- Jul 29, 2001
- Messages
- 1,721
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 56
29th Sept 2003
Heh. Its funny the things that go through your mind at times. Last Sunday, i had been so certain that i was going to confront the Milkybar Man. My enemy. My antithesis. I was convinced that i was going to run into him during my standard patrol. I was so convinced, that i felt our meeting was a foregone conclusion. A non-event wasn't even a consideration, indeed, the very thought that i wouldn't meet him that night was laughable. Funny, i'm thinking of those few panels in 'Preacher' that deal with the history of Tulip.
Her mum is in hospital giving birth to her, and her dad is in the bar, getting ready to celebrate, thinking of suitable names for the baby boy his wife is about to give birth to. One of his mates pipes up 'What if its a girl?' There's a stunned silence, then they all burst out laughing. The concept is so ridiculously preposterous! The phone rings, the father to be answers, there is an expectant hush while dad listens on the phone. He hangs up, turns to his friends and says, 'Damn wife died. Damn baby's a girl'.
Thats pretty much what happened to me last Sunday. I scoured the neighbourhood from dusk til dawn, calmly, expectantly, waiting to run into my enemy. He didn't show.
Dejected (yet at the same time strangely elated) i returned home to try again the next night. The next night was a repeat of Sunday. As was Tuesday and Wednesday. By this stage, i was almost frantic in my search. I kept thinking that maybe i'd missed him, or failed to intercept him. It never occurred to me that i was being followed. And avoided.
This entry so far is pretty long winded so far. I guess i'm trying to avoid talking about what happened. I encountered the MM on Thursday night, at exactly 3:17 am. Or should i say, he encountered me. And by encountered i pretty much mean ambushed. And i got my arse kicked. Big time.
I didn't even see the attack coming. I was perched on top of a building overlooking Elmwood Avenue. I was just... sitting there. Watching people leave the nearby Parlour and student union. I remember actually recognising a few acquaintences and resisting the urge to call their names out.
By three, the entire area was devoid of human activity. Any stragglers had long since gone home, the local kebab and chippys had closed soon after. I was alone, and was about to resume my patrol when i heard a fluttering sound behind me. I had turned about halfway, just enough to catch a glimpse of white before i felt rough hands push me over the edge of the building i was on.
I fell three storeys before crashing onto the ground. I had instinctively protected my head, but it still managed to crack off the pavement. As i slowly, cumbersomely, rolled over and looked up, i saw, as if in slow motion, a white figure turn away from the building edge. When i say slow motion, i mean super slow motion, with the obligatory blurring and fuzzy edges. It occurred to me that i had sustained a serious head injury, but that didn't seem to be of any importance.
My eyes decided to close, and as they did so, i became aware of nearby running footsteps. Echoey and ponderous they seemed to my dull and confused mind, and as i blacked out, i could feel someone shaking me and saying my name. Even at that stage, i was aware that there was something wrong with that. The fact that someone knew my name, but again, it didn't seem important enough to worry about. Certainly not important enough to stop me from going to sleep....
Next thing i remember with any clarity was waking up in a strange bed. I tried opening my eyes, but things were still a blur. As i sat up, i was able to make out a figure sitting in the corner. A figure that gradually came into focus. As i recognised the face, i was surprised to see tears in her eyes. It was K.
Heh. Its funny the things that go through your mind at times. Last Sunday, i had been so certain that i was going to confront the Milkybar Man. My enemy. My antithesis. I was convinced that i was going to run into him during my standard patrol. I was so convinced, that i felt our meeting was a foregone conclusion. A non-event wasn't even a consideration, indeed, the very thought that i wouldn't meet him that night was laughable. Funny, i'm thinking of those few panels in 'Preacher' that deal with the history of Tulip.
Her mum is in hospital giving birth to her, and her dad is in the bar, getting ready to celebrate, thinking of suitable names for the baby boy his wife is about to give birth to. One of his mates pipes up 'What if its a girl?' There's a stunned silence, then they all burst out laughing. The concept is so ridiculously preposterous! The phone rings, the father to be answers, there is an expectant hush while dad listens on the phone. He hangs up, turns to his friends and says, 'Damn wife died. Damn baby's a girl'.
Thats pretty much what happened to me last Sunday. I scoured the neighbourhood from dusk til dawn, calmly, expectantly, waiting to run into my enemy. He didn't show.
Dejected (yet at the same time strangely elated) i returned home to try again the next night. The next night was a repeat of Sunday. As was Tuesday and Wednesday. By this stage, i was almost frantic in my search. I kept thinking that maybe i'd missed him, or failed to intercept him. It never occurred to me that i was being followed. And avoided.
This entry so far is pretty long winded so far. I guess i'm trying to avoid talking about what happened. I encountered the MM on Thursday night, at exactly 3:17 am. Or should i say, he encountered me. And by encountered i pretty much mean ambushed. And i got my arse kicked. Big time.
I didn't even see the attack coming. I was perched on top of a building overlooking Elmwood Avenue. I was just... sitting there. Watching people leave the nearby Parlour and student union. I remember actually recognising a few acquaintences and resisting the urge to call their names out.
By three, the entire area was devoid of human activity. Any stragglers had long since gone home, the local kebab and chippys had closed soon after. I was alone, and was about to resume my patrol when i heard a fluttering sound behind me. I had turned about halfway, just enough to catch a glimpse of white before i felt rough hands push me over the edge of the building i was on.
I fell three storeys before crashing onto the ground. I had instinctively protected my head, but it still managed to crack off the pavement. As i slowly, cumbersomely, rolled over and looked up, i saw, as if in slow motion, a white figure turn away from the building edge. When i say slow motion, i mean super slow motion, with the obligatory blurring and fuzzy edges. It occurred to me that i had sustained a serious head injury, but that didn't seem to be of any importance.
My eyes decided to close, and as they did so, i became aware of nearby running footsteps. Echoey and ponderous they seemed to my dull and confused mind, and as i blacked out, i could feel someone shaking me and saying my name. Even at that stage, i was aware that there was something wrong with that. The fact that someone knew my name, but again, it didn't seem important enough to worry about. Certainly not important enough to stop me from going to sleep....
Next thing i remember with any clarity was waking up in a strange bed. I tried opening my eyes, but things were still a blur. As i sat up, i was able to make out a figure sitting in the corner. A figure that gradually came into focus. As i recognised the face, i was surprised to see tears in her eyes. It was K.
Colossus24
Civilian
- Joined
- Jun 6, 2003
- Messages
- 657
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 11
wow
RAMORE
~The First Avenger~
- Joined
- Jan 16, 2001
- Messages
- 6,786
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 31
More i need more!!!! This series is great i have so many questions i want answered keep writing. A few points, maybe he should have a more formal costume and when he beats the man in white a better codename.
Love this so far keep it up post soon, post often.
Ramore
Love this so far keep it up post soon, post often.
Ramore
i'm Spider-Man
Sidekick
- Joined
- Dec 15, 2002
- Messages
- 3,352
- Reaction score
- 0
- Points
- 31
i've loved this story from the start, i prey it continues!
Similar threads
