NPC Diaries - Warden's office

A piece from a world building project in no particular order - The wardens "office"

Warden's Journal — Entry 74,009

(Or is it more? I've stopped counting the seasons.)

I replaced the straw in cell 3. The last one fouled it — again. Couldn't hold in their guts, couldn't hold in their fear. The bile crept under the stones. I boiled the floor clean, as I always do. As I've always done.

The chains were silent today. No cries. No gnashing. No prayers. That silence is worse. It's when they start listening to the walls.

I sharpened the hooks. Oiled the hinge. Restocked the ledgers. Sorted the spoons. The little one from last month left a tooth under her mattress — another trinket for the shelf. The kind that remembers being warm once.

I swept. I lit the lamp. I stirred the pot. Nothing spoiled. I don't need to eat, not like I used to, but I still cook. The scent of broth makes the living trust me. They shouldn't.

Master has not come. Not in days. Not in centuries. But I know He is near. The walls still bleed when He dreams.

There is comfort in repetition. In order. The locks click. The ledgers fill. The fire burns low. And I remain.

I do not know my name.

But I know my purpose.

And so I serve.