The Donkey King

In a small but tightly wound community, there existed a self-proclaimed crusader—an anonymous vigilante reporter who went by the name Donkey King. His mission? To expose wrongdoings, stir controversy, and relentlessly hold his fellow citizens accountable, even when their missteps were accidents rather than crimes. He thrived on outrage, weaving narratives that turned mere mistakes into scandals.

One day, an ordinary man—a father, a husband, and a hard worker—unwittingly crossed Donkey King’s radar. Perhaps it was a comment, an offhand remark, or a simple disagreement. Whatever the cause, the man had made a fatal error: he had stood up to Donkey King.

Donkey King had never met his new target, but that didn’t matter. His vendetta was swift and merciless. He scoured the man’s life, uncovering details, twisting truths, and—most egregiously—contacting his employer under the guise of justice. His message was clear: this man was a problem. A liability. Perhaps even someone unworthy of his livelihood.

Losing his job would mean disaster—bills unpaid, mouths unfed, a family thrown into uncertainty. But rather than cower, the man, now the victim of the King’s wrath, chose a different path. He fought back.

What Donkey King had failed to consider was that his opponent wasn’t just some helpless bystander. No, this man had a resolve forged by hardship, a mind sharp enough to turn the tables. And unlike the many who had fallen before, he refused to be another casualty of Donkey King’s crusade.

Then, fate intervened.

Donkey King, so drunk on his own power, made a misstep—one so egregious, so undeniable, that even he could not spin his way out of it. The victim saw his opening. With a quiet, calculating precision, he set his plan into motion, wielding his own set of skills to turn Donkey King’s tactics against him.

The game had changed. And for the first time, Donkey King was no longer the hunter—he was the hunted.

To be continued…

— Riddle Van Lerk