Gubu the Tark Slayer Wants Me Dead, and I Fear for the Safety of my Loved Ones

There is a murderous man-goblin, born of volcanic filth and fire in the pits of Hell, whose only purpose is to slaughter me, to sever my arteries and let my blood into a crudely-constructed sewage trough, like a stuck swine.

I fear the lives of my family and friends are next.

I cannot emphasize this enough – Gubu the Tark Slayer wants to heat his primitive warhammer over an open flame and wield it to mash my flesh into pulp, before serving my corporeal form to his comrades so that they might carve me into rare flanks of human meat.

I have met Gubu the Tark Slayer on six occasions. He has murdered me three times.

My spirit cannot rest.

I continue to return to this Earthly realm only to perish again and again at the curdled hands of Gubu. He uses the sinew of my rotted flesh to floss his jagged teeth. He mocks my cursed immortality purely for the entertainment of his cohorts, knowing full well that I will soon reappear and be at his disposal yet again.

Each time we meet, he cackles and spews black soot onto my sullen countenance.

He reminds me that he gained his status as “Tark Slayer” for killing me, a "Tark," an inferior species that will never be permitted to leave this world, to rejoin his slain wife and child in the afterlife. To hold this mantle, Gubu must continually filet my corpse until death, most recently by plunging his crooked shiv, wet with the blood of my comrades, into my aorta, spilling my crimson essence onto the blackened soil.

The most frightening chapter of this tale is that I have slain Gubu three times, each time lopping off his greasy limbs with decisive slices from my blade. Yet, he continues to haunt this Earth. His maggot-infested hide still follows me.

He is my shadow.

Gubu cheats death and refuses to perish from our Earth.

I fear I will never be able to wash from my memory the fetid stink of his hot breath. My remaining kin is next.

I beg for an end, be it merciless but final.