Growing up I had a bully he would always hurt the weaker kids.
He was the fancied himself a trophy hunter of sorts.
Viewing everyone he made fear him as another prize for his mantle.
He started stalking me where I would work on my writings.
Setting traps for me to twist my ankle in so I wouldn’t be able to run.
He would send me home with black eyes.
He crushed my glasses once.
But my parents told me to ignore him, he’d tire of me eventually.
However, I knew I was smarter…
And I waited until the one day this “great hunter” pushed me too far…
He attempted to break my pen set.
I grabbed him directly by his testicles, and I twisted until he fell to his knees.
I made him give me a full-blown written apology for his behavior that day…
And he wound up speaking in a bit higher pitch for the remainder of the week.
Now, I look at Grim reminder of what would’ve happened if I hadn’t done what I did back then.
Because Luther, you’re what he would’ve become.
Everyone who you view as being weaker than you is nothing more than a trophy waiting to be claimed.
And now you shadow me, where I make my living looking to make a prize for your walls.
So, bring what your might, blacken my eyes, break my nose, shatter my glasses.
Leave me bloodied…
But I was done ignoring bullies like you long ago…
Oh, great hunter.
Lay your traps to attempt to slow me and make me easier prey.
Bring every weapon in your arsenal to bare.
Because yeah, I may be physically weaker than you.
And I may make a target of myself by being as outspoken as I am.
Because I’m an intelligent man, I know while on paper I am just another victim to you…
An open goal which you can claim at any moment.
There’s one thing I know which you don’t…
I already have you by the balls.
And I am going to wrench until they pop!
When I am done with you, you’re going to sing soprano for the rest of your life.
Because the day I forced that wannabe hunter to write me an apology…
I made him do so in his own blood after driving my pen into his eye.
And I intend to do the same to you.
I intend to make you scrawl in your own claret; just how sorry of a man you actually are.
Even if I have to hold the pen for you.
Because I am Damien fucking Wolfe, I hold every bit of the stroke in Arcadia.
I am the man who holds the fate of Arcadia and your manhood in palm of my hand.
And I intend on making you the Eunuch-Hunter of OSW…
A gelding amongst men.
Because my mind and my pen are mightier than any two-bit bully and one-bit hunter, believe that.