friday, december 13th.

friday, december 13th.

the town's bustling with folks celebratin' the holiday, rain or shine. among the ruckus, there's a snake in the grass, just waitin' to strike. and i'm here too, keepin' a watchful eye. two long years of nights have turned me into a critter of the dark. i gotta pick my targets careful-like; this ain't a small town. can't be everywhere at once, but they don't know where i'm at.

we've got ourselves a signal now, for when the shootin' starts. when that light cuts through the night sky, it ain't just a call—it's a warning. to them. fear's my trusty tool. they think i'm hunkered down in the shadows. but i AM the shadows.

i wish i could say i'm makin' a difference, but i reckon i can't. murders, robberies, and brawls—two years in, and it's all up like a prairie fire. this town's eatin' itself alive. maybe it can't be saved, but i gotta give it my all. push myself. these nights blur together like a tumbleweed blowin' in the wind, all behind the mask. sometimes comes mornin', i gotta wrangle my memory to remember what went down.