To quiet for too long, trying to be what other want me to be is not right. A man is only a man when he is free to be who he is and not what others make him out to be. Many have tried and they have all failed at it. Now it is time to get back to what I know best. What I know best is how to hurt people. They may want me to fight fair and go by the rules, but that has never been my style and I won’t start it now. So get ready boys and a certain girlie cause the true “Bastard of Wrestling” is back and there is not a damn thing anyone can do about it! It is a cold and rainy night. We are somewhere but we don’t know where. We are standing out side a little cabin. As we look through the window we see a man with his back to us. One small lamp lights the room and cast shadows on the walls. The man is reading something, but we can not make out what it is. The man turns and we can see now that it is Steven Hurst. He has a strange look on his face as he spots us. He gets up and comes to the door opening it. Steven: So you want to know what is going on here. Come in and sit down and I and I will be more than happy to fill you both in. As we walk in we look around. The cabin on the inside is very bare. The only thing inside is a table and a couple old wooden chairs and the small lamp. We sit across from him as he sits down and folds up the letter that he was reading and puts it in his jacket. He looks at us or should I say through us as the room seems even colder than the outside. Steven: You know things change quickly in this hellhole we call a world. One day you can be a king and the next you are eating from a garbage can. Life has a funny way it has a real knack of getting you down and stepping all over you. In the past things have always been pretty easy for me to figure out, I knew who my friend were and who I hated. Trust me I hated more than my fair share of people. I have people who I thought were my friends turn out to be my worst enemies. You have to learn that there is only one person in life you can trust and count on and that is yourself. No one is ever going to go out of their way to help you or give you that pat on the back when you need it. You can only count on yourself. Days go bye, months, even years and the only one there is you. You are the only one that directs where you are going. There is no fate, no destiny, the only path you have is the one you choose to take. Now as you pass through this life think about what you want and what obstacles that people put in your way, and how you can overcome them. I have sat here for awhile now looking at the past month or so and what has happened. I thought I had done something wrong to make the people close to me leave. I thought if I could change they would come back. That is a joke, if they cannot except you for who you are then you are better off without them. It starts off slowly; you really can’t tell it is even going on. Everything looks normal but it isn’t. My boss started giving me less and less important things to do. My best friend in the world goes off and tries everything to change my life for the worse. So now I have to go back to the beginning. Not the beginning of the month or the year, but to the beginning of where it all started. The beginning of when “Hunter” was born. I have to go back and relive what it took to bring him into this world. Now I am not going to have someone run me over like back then. I don’t need to cause she has already done that. I just need to sit back and let the hate and anger rise to the top once again. I don’t need to hold it in any longer. Why should I hold it in? There is no one that is going to care if I get hurt or hurt someone. I once again to not have to answer for my actions. Now it is time to work, I get to start all over this Sunday. Funny isn’t it, on the seventh day he rested. On this seventh day the devil takes control once again. Steven leans forward and blows out the lamp. The room goes pitch black as you can hear the cold wind blow through the cabin and the rain bounce off the tin roof. Steven: Yes Sunday bloody Sunday, more than one will find out what it is like to be held accountable. More than one will find out what it is to see the devil first hand and not be able to escape him. For you see it is not only one person that created “Hunter” in the first place it was a Triad, a group of three that made the devil come out. Now many years later it may not be the same three but three none the less. This Triad, this threesome of ugliness is the reason that I am back and the reason I am filled with the rage that I love so much. So before I show them the hell that they have shown me, I would like to thank them. Thank them for killing the man and releasing the devil inside him. Thank them for the blackness that I have missed for so long. Thank them for the cold that pumps through the veins of this soulless being that was once a man of principle. Thank them for bring back the true “Hunter”. Just then lighting flashes and brightens the room for a split second. We catch a glimpse of his face and we can tell it had changed. It was no longer the face of the man we saw when we first entered. It had changed no physically but in a way hard to describe. It was the empty look in his cold black eyes that had made him look different. A cold chill ran through our bones as we wanted to leave but found that we couldn’t. What now? What is going to happen come Sunday? Who is this Triad and how will they be treated. Soon everything will come to pass and the bloody trail that will lead from the fallen victim to the blood soaked boots of this so called devil will be known to everyone.