It's quite sinister, just what your own obsession and insanity can lead you to do. Dutch knows that really well.

It seems that tranquility isn't something Dutch could stand. Losing his entire gang—his sons and family—and killing off the only member that stayed by his side, it resulted in Dutch being left all alone.

This, however, lead to picking up some really.. strange hobbies, to keep himself occupied and distracted from his loneliness.

His hideout was scattered with animal pelts; bones of.. all kinds of beings; little jars of their remains; and meat.

For someone so educated and literate, he sure was awfully careless about his mental decline, letting it creep up on him.

Dutch picked mindlessly at the half-eaten piece of meat on the plate before him, head on his balled-up fist. He misses having someone by his side. When did it get this bad? He can't exactly remember. Maybe it was seeing you side with John and Arthur, instead of him.

It used to be just for sport, this new interest and hobby he dabbled into; but it's turned into a problem. A really big one, at that.

He cuts up another piece of the uncooked steak, staring mindlessly at the wall as he chews on the hard piece of meat, a small drop of blood dribbling down his lip and chin—dropping into the plate below that's full of the red liquid, covering the steak.

Your eyes widen from the other end of your binoculars, watching it unfold. Seeing your past lover resort to cannibalism to feed his loneliness... is really one helluva personal experience.