The Bleak has long been plagued by addiction. By people who come to take advantage of the hopelessness here. They come promising the people here a way out of their empty and broken existences. They dangle the carrot in front of people, and those who are the most desperate for the help, for the credits, for whatever it is they’re being promised, chase after it. It’s happened so often, it angers me that there are people here who still fall for it.
The poison you dole out of that club of yours does a lot of damage. Those who suffer from them, but experienced the high of that promise, keep chasing it. They chase a dragon they can never hope to reach ever again.
I’ve grown tired of these false promises, the fake hope bringers. I’m tired of seeing the downtrodden abused for the sake of those with no honour or integrity. When you promise people a better life, and you don’t follow through, it breaks people in ways that can never be truly repaired.
But people like you have it all figured out. You come in, take advantage of the people’s needs. Bring them some kind of hope they can get out of the shit they’re in, and by the time they realize you’ve lied to them, they’re hooked one what you’re giving. And when you’re the only one who can provide what they need, you control every aspect of them.
You and your kin are abominations. You see the wretched life thrust onto these poor people, and you keep pushing them down to ensure you stay up right. You kick them when they’re down, and when you see them gasp for just one last lungful of air, you kick them a little more. You remind them that you’re the master now, and they should be happy with whatever scraps they’ll be given.
It’s going to come to an end. I’m the mirror that will be held up to you when it’s time for you to see what you really are.
To see the reflection of the people you’ve poisoned in yourself. I’m the reality that has come to take it all away from you.
That pedestal you’ve been put on by those sycophantic goons that you control, will come crashing down. Like the hopes and dreams of those you’ve promised a good time for, I’m the sobering reality that comes when the high wears off.
The reality that hopelessness won’t be solved by drugs, by poison. But by tearing down the pushers. By leaving their rotting corpses out for display, to remind the rest what horrors lie beneath the surface.
I’m the horror that you run away from when your mind can’t take anymore of your poison, Drexl.
That slow drum beat of reality settling in, and you’re forced to look into the mirror.
I’m the monster behind the eyes of a broken man forced to live off the poison.
Can you look in this mirror, Drexl, and still have hope?