The Red Stained Village
The Red Stained Village
Journal log #1 - The Red Stained Village
They thought they locked me away. Fools. Two hundred bodies turned to ash at the courthouse, and they thought a cage would make me stop laughing? A jester doesn’t retire just because the audience gets scared.
I broke out, walked into a poor city, and the whole place went insane. Fifteen hundred of them. Guards with swords, peasants with pitchforks, all trying to kill me. They thought they had me surrounded. They thought they were the killers.
They didn't realize they were just stepping onto my stage.
I didn't even run. I just unholstered my scythe. My giant blade was getting hungry. I moved through them like a blur of red and black nightmare. A one man army. Every time they swung, I laughed. Every sweeping arc of my scythe reaped them like wheat. Four hundred of them are dead on the streets right now, cut and burned to pieces and ash, blood spilling onto stone. The other eleven hundred broke. They ran like cowards, tripping over themselves just to escape imminent death.
They can feel it now. The whole city is shaking because they know I'm standing in the ruins, completely untouched. The show isn't over. It's just getting good.