It echoes in the silence of the prison you created.

It cuts in the bloody screams of those you left behind.

It reverberates in agony through your very soul the pain of your fall from grace.

Hitting Rock Bottom is almost like a living nightmare, trapped by every wrong decision you made and unable to crawl out from under the rubble that is your world left in ruins.

Sometimes its our own fault, sometimes others are to blame, sometimes it’s just shit luck, but for the two of us Hatchet, we can pinpoint not only the person who drove us down into the brink.

But the very night it all went terribly wrong.

When the snow turned blood red, when purest rage flowed through your veins and your own family had to put you to sleep in fear of what you would do.

When the devil himself went toe to toe with two heroes and ensured one of them was buried forever within fire and concrete.

Nearly one year ago was the worst night of our lives, but you wouldn’t know it looking at you clown.

Because while everything I knew shattered around me and I was lost and confused, you seemed completely fine.

The same confident, arrogant, brash cunt you always were, but no matter how much you assured your Gathering and Charlie that you were the same old Hatchet, the strings were still attached.

You tried to fight it, the urge, the desire, but that white hot power, the single night of invincibility, you’d do anything to gain it again. An instant addiction, one that even a man so self assured as yourself would never shake.

While I was losing my soul, despising every person who tried to help me and lashing out like a spoiled child, you were suckling at the teet of the Devil who destroyed us. All for a little vial of immortality that’d last just as long as he wanted it to.

But the power was there, and it didn’t matter what it cost. Your credability, your man hood, even the family you cared about, even poor dear old Charlie, even his life didn’t matter in the end.

Because as long as the clown downed everyone, it’d be worth it in the end.

So now you stand, alone, empty, a shell of the man you were. A cunt who sold his soul for power that wasn’t even greater then an old mans shadow, a clown who has hit rock bottom.

Facing off against the kid who slammed down right beside him.

Because just like you I ruined everything. I threw away friends, I lashed out like a child and had the opportunity for revenge slip through my hands more times then I could count.

But unlike you, I’m still standing. Still fighting. Focused on the one desire I have left, ending the devil once and for all.

And you can either get up and help me kill the fucker once and for all or stay here at the bottom and wallow in your misery and failure.

Because it’s like you always say Hatchet, everyone gets downed by the clown.

Even you.