I used to be quite content with living life as your classic schoolyard bully, you know, taking what I wanted and always being the strong one tormenting the weaker ones. I thought I was the perfect guy, don't You think so? But all that changed when I...
I fondly recall my childhood, a time when I was merely a young child. I would nestle into my grandmother's comforting lap as she shared enchanting tales from her own youth. These stories were a mixture of eerie folklore and mystical wonders.
She'd regale me with accounts of peculiar creatures lurking within murky, putrid swamps, guiding unsuspecting individuals of all ages to their doom. Her voice would weave mesmerizing stories of mischievous fairies, who, with enchanting melodies, enticed children away from their homes into magical realms.
Yet, it was her tales of cursed men, transforming into fearsome beasts beneath the glow of a full moon, that sent shivers down my spine.
Those nights, sleep eluded me as the terror gripped my imagination.
Now, as I reminisce about those days, I can't help but smile, for I know that monsters are nothing more than fanciful stories, right?" ***
"Stop, you little bastard!" I shouted, my voice carrying through the bustling streets of Eldenwood.
I sprinted as if my life depended on it, hot on the heels of a scrawny kid who owed me some cash.
"Stop chasing me!" The little guy squeaked, his glasses threatening to take a dive, his backpack barely clinging to his shoulders. "I swear, I've got no money for you today!"
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"Then prepare for a thrashing!" I bellowed, my logic as straightforward as it gets.
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Now, if you're scratching your head, wondering what kind of character I am, I'll admit it—I'm what you'd call a bully. Yeah, I know, not exactly a poster child for charm and manners. But let's face it, I needed cash, and I'd discovered that the quickest way to acquire it was by, well, giving people a not-so-friendly reminder of their debts. So here I was, stuck in this ridiculous chase.
"Hey, Howard, you bastard, quit the marathon!" I roared, bulldozing my way through the crowd, completely indifferent to the curious glares and eye rolls I received along the way. Trust me, I was used to it.
I chased that slippery little weasel through one winding street after another, hurling a flurry of curses in his direction, some of which, in hindsight, didn't even make sense.
