“Let me tell you the story of a lost little puppy who I once called my own.”
“A poor little flea ridden mutt who I found in the rain.”
“He was as meager and pathetic as they come, having no direction in its life, no food in its stomach. Had it been left to the elements then the pup would have surely perished.”
“But I saw promise in it, I saw a loyal hunting dog beneath the fleas and disease as I brought him into my home.”
“I stayed by his side, feeding him by hand, grooming him, and keeping him safe until he was big enough and strong enough to fight.”
“But I should have known better.”
“Because one day? That dog felt it had gotten too big, too proud. As I called him to my side for another feeding his jaw snapped shut on my hand.”
“Drawing my blood into its mouth.”
“So what did I do?”
“Well, Sanctus? What is a man to do when the sickly little pup who lost his way decides that the hand that fed him, groomed him, and cared for him has lost its worth?”
“You know, when I found the mutilated bodies of Jay, Tank, and Michaela? I was furious. My rage knew no bounds as I tore into Corvus and Deathnote like the pests they were. I tore them apart looking for revenge.”
“If I had only known the man who drew first blood was the very same man who stood by my side all this time.”
“When I found you in your timeline you were lost and scared, a pup with no owner looking for a God to call your own.”
“I took you into my home with Legacy, I helped you fight, kept you safe from the apocalyptic future that rained down upon your head. You were my loyal little puppy who I raised from a starved mongrel into a massive hound.”
“But you saw all that I had given you, all that I sacrificed for you, and you decided to bite the hand that fed you.”
“Legacy’s blood drips from your maw, the bite mark in my hand refuses to heal.”
“So what’s a man to do when his foolish mutt turns on him?”
“He takes him out back, loads his gun, and puts that rabid beast down.”
“At High Voltage, I’m going to do just that, Sanctus. I’m wrapping my hands around your collar and dragging you out back of OSW, throwing you to the woods and loading my weapon. Reality is my gun, time my bullets, and you are my target.”
“You can whimper all you want, you can bury your face in your dirty little paws and whine, but your death shall come all the same.”
“So look down the barrel, say your prayers.”
“Because Yahweh may forgive.”
“But I do not.”
“And when the smoke clears, all that will remain is bloodied fur and a lifeless mutt.”
“I have walked this path before, I shall walk it once more.”