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Subject: A Night in LA
To: hunter.list@hunter-net.org
From: Chosen845

Its... the dead of night and I haven’t slept in about three days. I don’t feel tired though. I actually tried to sleep last night but I couldn’t stay under…how can I with the things that are out there, just beyond the glass of my apartment window…just out of view in the shadows of the night. I don’t feel comfortable any more…I can’t say that I have for weeks now, not since the first time I saw IT. IT took my life away, making me as dead inside as IT was. I had a wife that loved me and a baby girl…a job and friends. I didn’t think I was the luckiest man in the world but now…
I would have never imagined that one night I would be hiding in an alley on Crenshaw boulevard on a Friday night. The smell of piss, vomit and a dozen other vile things mingle in my nostrils as I crouch behind the dumpster. In the distance, I can hear the repetitive sound of automatic gunfire. Couldn’t be more than a block or so away. The minutes tick by. I check my watch as a helicopter sails by over head. It takes nearly fifteen minutes for the LAPD to give some kind of response and I don’t hear any patrol cars. No wonder the monsters own the night, when there are streets that even law enforcement feared to tread. I glance at the dilapidated building across from me. The sounds of the base heads inside doping themselves away from pain and fear of existence stirs a cold flame in my chest. A wind whips through the tight alley, forcing the foul air to violate my nostrils. In the wind, a VOICE forms within the fetid caress of that breeze and I check the sawed off Mossberg 500 that is clutched between my gloved hands as the VOICE speaks. It was the Voice that saved me, you see. When IT took everything from me, when IT left me for dead with my home burning down about me, the VOICE showed it to me for what it was, it gave me the strength to see…to fight. I had a light in my time of dark and although my life was gone, the VOICE gave me a new one. When it spoke, I listened. ‘DEATH HOLDS THEM IN ITS GRIP’.
I suck in a calming breath as a rickety wooden door opens and a burly man in sagging, Khaki pants and a black t-shirt with a red bandanna steps outside. I focus on him...on IT and see the wrongness within IT as I lift the shotgun, IT's back is to me and IT is barely ten feet away. The shotgun goes off, causing the dark alley to illuminate in a blast of orange light and ear splitting noise. My ears are ringing as the thing, even after taking a full blast to the back leaps to the side attempting to dive behind the cover of a stack of trash cans. I had hoped for this. Nights of watching IT has led me to this house and this is the best place for an attack. I follow its path with the barrel of the shotgun firing into the pile of barrels, which are littered with kerosene doused paper garbage. A spark from the buckshot skipping off of one of the barrels causes it all to erupt in a conflagration. IT howls in agony as the fires eat away at its flesh. I simply stand there and watch and wait as it stops struggling. The thing takes only a few more seconds to die, attempting to crawl weakly away from the flames.
Turning I begin to walk away, when I see one of the junkies standing in the open doorway of the crack house. For a long moment, we simply stare at one another unsure of what to do next. I am as shocked as the junkie when the words escape from my mouth. “We’re taking back the night.” I say before continuing down the alley, leaving the junkie to stare at my back in confusion. I know I have at least fifteen minutes to get out of the area and don’t bother to pick up the shells. Spent twelve gauge rounds litter the area. I felt right…not good and a little tired but …right. It was time for the monsters to be scared for a change. ‘Take back the night.’ I like the ring of that.

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