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Meeting Vincent

April 19, 1991

I made my first real kill tonight. I thought killing an undead thing would make me feel some sort of remorse. I don’t, though. I feel more alive than I have ever felt. I feel like I was born to do this job. The feeling scares the hell out of me and at the same moment electrifies me.

I’ve given careful thought to my attacker. I was unprepared for the fight and nearly lost my life. I realized that if it had not been for fast thinking and skill, I would now be dead. I guess in the heat of the moment you don’t have time to think, you can only react to your training. I have heard people say the fight or flight instinct takes over. I have to agree. Survival, my survival, was the only thing I had in mind.

I wasn’t as fast as he was, and the trophy he earned will mar my thigh forever. I learned tonight that if I am to live in this world, I need to become a better killer. I don’t mean the type of killer that pulls a gun and gets the job done. I mean the type of kil
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