How He Came To Be

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When I first met John he was young, still, curious and inordinate in everything he did. Nothing compared to the terrifying power he became today. Even before then he was analytical, precise, never shown interest in conformity and revels in his solitude. 

Adhere to his isolation, often times you will notice his soft whispers to himself, rumblings out of nowhere, sudden glances at his back, and unexplainable bruises on his arms and neck.

He was always proper with the way he looks, astonishingly well-groomed, and brings about a comforting demeanour everywhere he went.

Hair is as black as night, Eyes fierce like wolves, and voice as gentle as breeze.

Yes, back then John was a just boy, but the need has arise that we inform you, John was never ordinary, what he have been experiencing every waking hours of his everyday might be his normal but we assure you, with such predicaments, you will wish you never knew his story. 

His life and what he has given is not for the faint of heart, it is not for the senseless of the majority, and certainly not for one's who are seeking deliverance. Allele would say it is for the inquisitive, we the legion concur, we await our reckoning.

A necessary evil, John had become, a truly dreadful evil. An adverse entity the immediate world needs but will never accept, John had become beyond judgement--

for he is judgement.

The whispers began with his first ordeal, and his embrace on the efforts of death delivered by I, and his convoluted massacre of all corrupted souls. 

He alone hanged the bodies through out the landscapes as they bled out on the pavements, myriad of viscera levelled the streets, none questioned it. It was understood.

He will be hated, he will be hunted but most of all he will be feared. His wrath knew no bounds, but I am getting ahead of myself, this was all at the time of horrible conflagration. 

The twins question why he started the holocaust but soon grasp the notion of how the reaper of men, ends it.

Thus, begins our story of how John the Grim, came to be.

It was almost the end of winter at the break of dawn, John's family, The Hilts have just arrived in their new home, Farcrest Manor. The Hilts were a prominent family due to their wealth and their contributions during The War of The Grand Alliance, some regarded as the first global war. 

Farcrest was a substantial piece of land over looking the quiet but affluent town of Milton's Bay in the east, and the industrial city Brickley in the far west.

The manor stood since the early Elizabethan period, it was used as one of the staging areas for the crusade during the Tyrone Rebellion, wherein Irish Catholics formed a revolution against a Protestant English rule.

With excitement in his eyes, Fresco Hilt then looked at his son.

"How about it John, home sweet home?"

Fresco Hilt, John's father leads the 4th generation of the family. Renowned for his business savvy in salt works and banking. Though his stature may come off more military than suit, scars on his hands tell a different story.   

John then took a deep sigh, looked up at his father and said, "Home is wherever the heart is." 

Fresco cackled, " My dear son, ever so poignant."

Dropping his luggage, Fresco kneels down and placed his hands on John's shoulders. He looks at him with all the care his eyes can muster and with kindness in his voice,

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