Come at me, I have a steel battleaxe and a giant war wolverine with a taste for evil people.
Oh no, no; nothing so crass. Revenge is a dish best served
ice cold, Mister MetalHead. When you get what's coming to you, you will have long since forgotten this converation, it will be a vauge, distant memory of a time long since passed.
But I won't forget, no, no, I never forget. I have the names of every single person who has ever crossed me carved, with all the malice I can muster, into a little black book of grudges so that I can
never forgot the wrongs that have been dealt me. And every so often, as time slowly marches on, someone's turn will come up. They won't know why, having long since moved on like any non-psychotic human being, but I will turn their life on its head and make them suffer thousand-fold for every injustice paid to me; perhaps all at once, or perhaps a thousand tiny needles draining them dry.
Then, when the pit of despair can be dug no deeper, who will show up but KodKod to lend a helping hand and get them back on their feet. For why should they suffer but once when I can build them back up to fall again, and again, and again, for so long as my insatiable need to
break human beings keeps dragging me ominously forward like the creeping veil of night covering the world as the sun breathes its last and dips over the horizon.
I am Nemesis.