The murder of a guard doesn't seem to have raised spirits round the dungeons much, my presence seems to have forced out what little joy festered in the darkness here in fact. The prisoners press themselves into corners as if they can merge into the ink black walls when I pass their cells. The old convicts who were added before my corpse snatchers babble incoherently, their already fragile minds twisted by this change in how things work. They tried weakly to drag their broken bodies to the bars of their doors but a few of the guards took it upon themselves to re-establish the way things work and beat these prisoners bloody. Now they weep in their cells, confused and frightful. The newest occupants clearly remember our last interaction, They whimper pathetically whenever I come near them. Some stare at the floor with sealed lips trying to avoid attention, others stare at me wide eyed, murmuring prayers as they back away from me. The repetition of expressions, phrases and pleadings coupled with the ink black walls make the journey feel as if I'm walking through a void that loops again and again. Cutting their eyes and ripping out tongues is incredibly tempting especially considering half of the bastards turned out to be liars. I'm sure I can find half a dozen men who were sent to search through the sewers and plague district searching for ghouls and ghosts who wouldn't be opposed to taking steel to flesh. That would be a waste of time though, they'll be dealt with en masse soon enough so I continue to walk, ignoring their unsettling stares.

Ryan stands outside the cell. He holds a lantern in his left hand, the pale presents his face in a rather ghoulish manner. Numerous fights have left his nose crooked, several riots have left his face marred, there's s hole as wide as my little finger punched into his cheek, his ear is half gone and his lips scarred from someone trying to force him to swallow a knife long ago.

To our left is the cell and within a naked figure cowers in the shadows, the light illuminates sickeningly yellow skin. Despite being largely unseen due to the dark, the general shape of his face disgusts me.

"I must speak-"

I hold up my hand and shush the man. He complies and I gesture at Ryan.

"I sent the other guards away," Ryan says grimly. "No point in having them watch this scum." He hawks and spits into the cell.

"Might have done morale some good," I sigh. "No point in calling them back just to watch the show for a few minutes though."

"A blade my prince," Ryan says, offering me his sword. The steel shines in the lamplight and the elegant etchings appear pretty enough. "To assist in the eviction of this guest."

"Too fine a weapon, too quick an end," I yawn. Instead I grab the lantern and pull it from his grip, he's reluctant to let go. "This will suffice for the task."

"Left the body in there," Ryan shrugs. "Figured you'd want to see it. Bastard mangled one of your men, looks like he was savaged by an animal."

"What was his name?"

"We can't tell. Fucker brutalized the poor man's face too badly for anyone to identify him, a headcount is being performed as we speak."

"Wonderful."

I walk into the cell and stare at the degenerate briefly. I recognize his face.

"Rodger wasn't it?"

"I have a-"

I slam the lantern into his face, the corner leaves an inch long gash in his cheek and dark red blood drips down his face, it appears almost black in this poor lighting. Rodger cries out in pain, it sounds like a dog being hit with a belt.

"Dungeons haven't treated you well Rodger, you looked normal just a few days ago!" I exclaim. "Now you look half dead and you are half mad. Where'd your suit go? I doubt it was misplaced in these grand chambers you have been assigned. And Might I just ask what made you think I'd grant you a more merciful execution than Ryan here would?"

"I have a message from my buyer!" Rodger declares. "If I do not-"

I ram the face of the lantern into his nose, eliciting a sickening crunch.

"Twice in one week that nose has been broken, Rodger. It'll never heal at this rate!"

Rodger merely groans in agony.

"You're lucky really," I yawn, holding my bandaged hand up to the light for him to better see. "I would have ruined you with these had I not cut my favoured hand just earlier. You killed one of my knights and you get off this easily! I would have spent weeks on you with the tools I was born with alone if time and circumstance allowed for it!"

"Didn't kill your knight," Rodger mumbles. "Didn't touch any knight, didn't even touch a dead knight. I was just-"

"What is that then?" I gesture at the corpse not too far from us. I roll it over with my boot, there's a hole in place of his face, a big, bloody hole that exposes some of the inner mechanisms of his head. "Another prisoner? He seems oddly dressed for a man of such a low position don't you think? Almost identical to Ryan's uniform. And it doesn't look like you gave him a shave now does it? I can see where the confusion arose from!"

"He weren't no knight, least he weren't one when he entered this cell, he was a puppet, got his strings cut, but before they were snipped my buyer sent-"

I swing the lantern into his jaw, knocking out his front teeth. I lean closely to him and ignore his rancid stench

"Mockery is not-"

"I have a message!" Rodgers yells over me spraying droplets of blood spit into my face. "I have a message and you will fucking hear it! You can make my skin your cloak afterwards for all I care but if you don't hear what I have to say we'll both come to regret it!"

"Dungeons haven't treated you well Rodger," I repeat in a low voice. "But I'll treat you worse."

I stand up straight and wipe the disgusting mixture off of my face. I turn and toss the lantern to Ryan who clumsily catches it, almost allowing it to slip and smash on the ground.

"You heard the man!" I declare grabbing him by the neck and dragging him to his feet. "He wants to speak! So let's bring him to a room where he can better be heard!"

Ryan nods and steps out of the way. I drag Rodger out of his cell and begin the journey further down the hall. He continues to scream and yell ‘I must be heard’ over and over again, weakly punching me.

"Oh hush!" I order. "I'm sure you've heard tales about the executioner's chambers. Everyone gets heard there eventually!"

"My buyer came to me through that puppet!"

"No no no!" I yell cheerily. "You're supposed to not talk willingly, then we'll cut a few pieces off of you, then you'll give us a lie! Have you never been here man!"

The imposing steel door at the end of the hall is mainly just for show. It's so thin you could probably punch through it at the cost of some hand. They carved several big holes into it so the screams can better be heard.

Ryan opens it with ease and steps out of the way so that I can hurl him through the door. I turn to face the cells.

"Let this act as an example for what will happen if a corpse ends up in any of your cells!" I yell. "Though I cannot promise that I'll be as kind with any of you as I will with this man!"

I turn to see Rodger crawling to his feet.

"You will hear my-"

I run up and kick Rodger in the mouth before he can finish.

'I will hear you suffer for your crimes," I yawn. I grab him by his arms and drag him into the executioners chamber. Ryan shuts the door, lights a small stick using the lantern and in turn uses the stick to light the oil lamps in the room, eliminating the shadows and illuminating the room. There's two chairs, one's made of steel and has several straps for arms, legs and the head, another is wooden and allows the tormentor to sit comfortably. There's a rack decorated with tools designed to dig into man, find all the places to make him scream. There's a bed decorated with black sheets, a human skull with crude markings carved into it and two knives occupy the bedside table. How anyone would sleep here with all the screaming and moaning is beyond me.

I hurl Rodger into the chair and Ryan gets to strapping him down while I drag the spare chair to face him and sit.

"Well aren't these nice chambers, they're the perfect temperature, comfortable,one would never be bored here.and all just for making men beg a bit. I should swap the crown for the executioner's hood!"

"My buyer is not human nor kind, he will treat neither of us well if my message-"

"What should go first?" I inquire. "A finger? A toe? Maybe something a bit more painful? Eye? Tongue?"

"I'd take his murdering hands my prince," Ryan suggests, pushing the rack over so that I can better reach the tools.

"Quick, simple and painful, hands sound good to go!" With that I snatch a long saw from the rack and lean close to Rodger. As soon as the cold steel touches his skin he begins to solicit all manner of screams.

"Your cousin!" He yells. "Your cousin!"

"What about him?" I inquire with a smile. "You want him to cut off your hands while I work on your feet? Do you think we could rouse him from his slumber Ryan?"

"The dead boy sends greetings to your cousin!"

The smile freezes on my face.

"I think I'll take a tongue instead," I conclude, returning the saw and turning to the rack to find the suitable tools.

"Didn't look too good, still had the rope round his neck, face was blue, crows took his eyes. I'll look worse if my message isn't heard though! And I won't be used just for giving your cousin the frights! Listen to-"

Out of frustration and annoyance I grab the nearest knife on the rack and ram it into his hand turning his rant into a hiss of pain.

"Your voice is beginning to grate upon my nerves,". I state calmly while slowly twisting the blade, ensuring every moment hurts. "But I'm beginning to suspect you'll continue to try and convey this message after your tongue is removed so to save time you'll deliver your message and I swear if it bores me I will blind you, maim you, skin you and leave you here to die slowly."

"My buyer came to me wearing the uniform of a guard and a face I didn't recognize but his eyes, they only belong to him. He gave me this message to deliver to you before breaking his own neck."

"How very convenient this happened when no one else trustworthy was around to witness this tragic suicide," I yawn.

"Firstly he told me he's very happy about what happened to Mr. Silver. The man sold to my buyers enemies and was protected by several pacts but he also claims he was only a small percentage of their supply. All the men you've imprisoned here have made a significant dent in his supply however; this city is his only place of business and he's not pleased about having to acquire his own materials."

"Do you people have little guilds where you just discuss the business?" I ask. "Silver went to those gallows and the next morning he's gone but the corpses were still there, all twisted and burned. More importantly, am I supposed to be impressed by your knowledge of who's dead and who's not."

"The elimination of the wealthier buyers would also be appreciated. Should Renauld and Thorn find knives in their bellies that would please my buyer very much."

"Stop calling him buyer," I yawn.

"I know not his name-"

"Then call him what he is."

"What might that be?"

"Delusion," I suggest. "Hallucination, excuse, lie, fantasy. Master would suffice too, given the amount of control this hallucination has over you."

"The deaths of those men would please my master very much then-"

"And why would I want to please your master?"

"Because despite your beliefs, prince," he spits prince like it's an insult, "my master is a very real thing and if you're not pleasing him he has no reason to allow you to continue living peacefully and once he has no reason there's nothing stopping him from strapping you in a chair not to dissimilar to the one I find myself in now. His tools are much more frightening than yours and death doesn't interrupt his torments."

"Even without my crown there's much that would keep this imaginary friend of yours at bay."

"He also stated that making an alliance with him would benefit you more than your half-dead church will."

"Isn't he a funny man?" I manage to get out through forced chuckles. "I'm glad I allowed you to speak, it's been a while since I've had a good fool to laugh at."

"He's also said he'll show you the things he showed Steel if you so please-"

"Which things? How to cut up a person? How to drown a beggar? Why-"

"He only gave me words to reiterate. I can't answer questions I don't know the answers to."

"Can't even improvise? Just when I was getting impressed by your storytelling skills!"

"Now he made told me to tell you these things last, he said I'd become another of his experiments if I said them at any other point-"

"I really don't care much for the way you've ordered this narrative so just spit it out."

"Firstly he knows what really happened to your mother and father."

My grip tightens around the hilt of the knife that's still pinning his hand to the arm of his chair. Opening him up there and then is tempting.

"Secondly if you check the corpse in my cell you'll find a gift."

"And thirdly?" I inquire after Rodger hesitates to continue.

"Your knight, Steel, he read the letter he wasn't supposed to and he's done a runner."

I stare blankly before turning around, snatching the lantern and leaving the executioners chambers. I return to Rodgers cell and see that the corpse has been moved. It was lying in a heap in the corner, now it lies in the center of the cell, arms folded across its chest and something has been placed over the head, covering it partially. I delicately pick up this covering and inspect it, divining what it might be is hard in the dim light. It's pinkish, so pale it's almost white, oval shaped, it feels somewhat elastic and flexible. Then I notice the holes, the lips, the eyelids and finally I recognize how well it resembles the dead boys face. I look back at the corpse and see that a noose has been wrapped round its neck.

"Verify if Steel has indeed fled," I order, face still clenched in my right hand. "If he has find him, imprison him or if that proves impossible kill him. Should he elude make it known the bastard has been practicing black magic and a reward will be given for his apprehension."

"It will be done, my prince," Ryan declares "What shall be done with the dead man?"

"If someone has gone missing, ask their family or a friend to come and see if there's any way of verifying that that's indeed the missing man. If not, send him to a pauper's grave."

"And what will be done with that?" Ryan gestures at Rodger, still strapped into his seat.

"I'll deal with him, now go."

Ryan leaves without further question and shuts the door behind him.

I select a wickedly sharp blade from the rack and lean in close to Rodger.

"Your masters work?" I inquire holding the boy's face up for him to see.

"And your cousin's ghost. So you believe in my master now?"

"Indeed I do," I sigh, "and you're going to deliver a message to him for me."

"I can't do this I'm afraid," Rodger responds mocking sorrow. "I don't even have his name, how would I even begin to find him-"

"I apologize in advance," I cut across him. I put down the face and hold up the knife for him to see. "My dominant hand is wounded you see so this process might take longer and hurt just a bit more."

"Wait no!" Rodger yelps. "I've done nothing wrong, he'd-"

"Might I just ask you to keep the screaming to a minimum?" I request. "It gives me an awful headache."

And with that I get to work.

As expected Rodger wasn't too keen on complying with my one request and screamed the dead awake but eventually he departed from consciousness shortly before his face departed from his head. I took the time to carve a neat little message into it beforehand though. Now he still breathes shallowly, only an infection away from death. Bone had been exposed in some places, cartilage around the nose but it was predominantly bright red muscle. I collect both faces and pocket them, my work is nowhere near as neat as the masters but it'll convey my point well enough. I unstrap him and drag him across the floor out of the executioners chambers leaving a nice trail of blood behind me. I slowly drag for all to see, past his cell and to the one closest to the entrance still occupied by the rotting corpse of the first man Titus killed. The decay probably improves his scent. I unlock the door, hurl Rodger in and throw his face in after him before closing it again.

"Let this be a lesson to all!" I boom. "Instead of letting your masters mock and jest at me with cheap tricks, let the guards slit your throat, it saves both of us some time."

With that I leave them to whimper in the darkness.