Transcript
I was awoken in the middle of the night once again. It's those awful noises coming from the basement: the sounds of nails clawing at the stone walls and the writhing moan of curses.
That man harbors enough hate to ruin this world.
He once served the lord of the castle as the torturer, like his father and grandfather before him. It's one of the more unsightly legacies left by the Salazar family.
Even among his family, he was "special." He enjoyed his work wholeheartedly and had a talent for it. He was gifted at tormenting others.
His ability soon attracted the master's interest. And when he took him to the dungeon— No, I can't write anymore. I won't.
I don't want to recall what happened down there.
My mind can't take it. It will break me.
I was ordered to attend to him: to feed him, dispose of the filth—all while listening to that wretched voice every night.
I can't take it anymore. I've had enough. I will not tolerate one more night in this castle. I shall leave tomorrow. Go far away, where that voice cannot reach my ears.
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