In Luther Grim, Promo by Luther Grim

In the wilderness of life, I have always been the predator. The championship belt that once adorned my waist was more than leather and gold. It was a symbol of survival.

But now?

It’s out there, somewhere in the wilds of deceit and treachery, stolen from me by a coward who dared not face the hunter head-on.

You see, as a boy, I learned the harshest of lessons when I lost my grandfather’s compass in the Groves. That compass wasn’t just a tool. It was a family heirloom, a guide through life’s thickest forests and darkest nights. The old man would say, ‘losing something precious is the universe’s way of teaching you it’s true value.’

I scoured the Groves for days, not just searching for the compass, but hunting for my soul. And once I finally found it, buried beneath a blanket of fallen leaves, I understood that some hunts, they change you. 

And now, history echoes itself. The NXT Level Championship, my modern-day compass, is lost. But unlike the young boy I once was, terrified and uncertain, I am now a man forged in the fires of countless battles. The path to retrieval is fraught with thorns and snares, but I am no stranger to pain or peril.

My skin has been toughened by the adversities of life, my will sharpened against the stones of relentless challenges.  That belt may be a symbol of my victories, but the strength it represents, the resilience and the spirit, they cannot be taken from me.

I have been to the depths of despair, where lesser men find solace in their excuses. But I am not built to cower or to crumble. I am built to rise, to claw my way back from the abyss with my bare hands if I must.

The coward who took the belt, they may think they have erased me from the annals of champions, but a true victor’s essence can never be stolen.

For you see, I have wrestled with beasts of flesh and blood, and I have grappled with the specters of doubt and defeat. Each time I was thrown to the ground, I rose again, because within me burns the spirit of warriors past, the undying light of those who never yield.

The thief may revel in their false glory, believing they have stripped me of my honor, but they are mistaken. For my honor is not in the metal and the leather that once rested upon my hips. It is in every drop of sweat, every drop of blood, every tear I have ever shed in the square circle.

The wilds of deceit and treachery may hide my adversary, but like the compass that once eluded my youthful grasp, no secret can remain shrouded forever. I will track them through the underbrush of lies, I will chase them across the rivers of cowardice, and I will find them on the peaks of betrayal.

For when the dust settles and the earth bears witness, the belt will return to its home, and The Hunter will stand tall once more, a predator in a world that mistook him for prey.