Slay the Bear
They say what doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.
Of course if you cannot be killed by mortal hands, the power of the wellspring runs deep indeed. Whatever tries to kill you makes you stronger, and stronger and stronger.
Consider a Bear.
A beast of an animal, giant and mighty. Feared among all other animals. For if the Bear decides to attack, it will kill.
Many wandered into the territory of the great Bear, but none escaped with their lives. They tried, but all failed in their quest to kill the Bear.
And the more the Bear killed, the better it ate. The more it feasted on the failed souls of those that had come before, the stronger it became. The Bear reveled in their failure.
A young boy, eager and bright-eyed spoke confidently of his desire to slay the Bear. He desired to make the Bear’s forest safer for those that would stumble across it. He longed for the days that the Bear would not terrorize those stupid enough to wander into its lands.
Armed with his weapon, the kid sought the bear. He had been engineered for this purpose, trained to destroy, so destroy he would.
But when the Bear tracked him down, no amount of confidence or bravado could disguise the truth. That if you want to slay a Bear you had better come armed with more than a flyswat.
The poor boy, eager to prove his worth, gravely underestimated his own firepower. And he became yet another meal to feed the bear.
The Slaughterhouse is my world, Kid. Many have made the grave mistake of wandering too far into my territory
They’ve become food for the Bear.
As they have been slain, I have fed. I have eaten well.
Countless names have fallen at my feet.
Lambs led to the Slaughter, since the very beginning of the Slaughterhouse, I have been there.
While you contemplated your existence and questioned your purpose, I only grew stronger.
The more you embraced your violence and destruction, the more it has fed me. The harder you try, the more powerful I become.
It’s a beautiful thing, really.
Like the Kid hunting the Bear, you were engineered for a purpose. You were created to serve me, one way or another.
You were born to kill, to maim so I may grow powerful.
Yet despite all your best efforts, no matter how hard you try to become that Kid, eager to slay the great bear, you truly amount to nothing more than a boy holding a flyswat.
You can swing your little flyswat all you like, but what doesn’t kill me will only make me stronger. You will learn the very same lesson that the young boy did, Generation Kid.
You can never kill a bear with a flyswat.
Poor Kid, gravely underestimating your own firepower.
Swat away, give into your anger and take a swing.
I double dog dare you.
Because this Bear is hungry, and it’s time to eat.