Day Six-Twenty-Six: Hello, diary

Today, I am living in Castle WonderButt. Yesterday it was Castle DeNiro. The king really needs to stop changing the name - it's a bitch to get any return mail.

Sorry. I'm new to this writing stuff. I'm still learning about flow. Robert says I'll become an expert in no time.

Not my brother, of course. The librarian Robert. My brother died in a fire when I was young. Oh, the days of my youth, stolen away...

It's pretty lonely up here on the Neck. You get a good view of the castle and the plains, I'll give ya that, but nobody visits me. Kinda sucks. The only time I get to talk to other people is on the odd occasion when Captain Cedric comes by to yell at me. He says I suck at my job. I don't know why he says that - I think I'm damned good at it. Always get my work done.

What's my job, you ask? Read on, my dear diary. It'll become obvious.

The Neck is a hell of a machine. It consists of two archways and a bridge, stretched out over a moat. When you walk over the bridge - assuming I pull my handy-dandy lever, of course - a big metal shell flips up over your head. Attached to the shell is a series of crazy, whirling blades. They chop you into itty-bitty pieces. Then you get dumped into the moat for the moat monsters to eat.

Gross job? You bet. But somebody's gotta do it. At least I don't have to clean up.

You wouldn't think I'd get much of a kick out of seeing people, y'know, horribly murdered. It's a rather sickly idea. To that I make three points:

a) They're criminals

b) I get paid for it

c) Shut up, diary, you don't know

I didn't enjoy it much, at first. Been executing people for months. Blew chunks over the ramparts at least a dozen times on my first week. But you get used to it. After a while it even feels good.

So good.

Maybe it's because she's watching. The woman in white. On the other side of the bridge that leads to the main ramparts. It feels real good to have her watch me. Almost... intimate.

Wish I could see her face. I bet she's real pretty. But she's always got that veil on. Maybe she's asleep? Or maybe she's like the prisoners, and doesn't have a face...?

Sorry, diary. Gotta go. There's a ragtag bunch comin' through. That lever won't pull itself!

Sincerely,

Dragomir the Executioner