Crudely Scrawled Note

Now, I ain't a decent man and I sure ain't good at writing, but word needs to get out 'bout what this place really is. This prison, it ain't like no joint I ever been in, and I've seen double my share. Men don't stay here long either and some of the lads they haul in, they ain't criminals. I'd know. Moment I see a man, I can tell by his eyes that he done wrong. These boys? I see fear.
I seen this warden a couple times, big man in black armor. If you ain't know better, you'd think he was on the wrong side of the bars. Every day, he and his lackeys take prisoners out to this hut in the yard by the dozen. They ain't never come out. Later, a wagon rolls in by the hut. It always leaves full.
They don't let us outa our cells no more, but I can tell there ain't much of us left. The halls are quiet. I'm the last man in my row. The others? They was taken in yesterday's batch. I ain't asking for pity. I know my end's in that hut; but perhaps this note will be my one good deed in my pathetic life...
Category:Grim Dawn
Category:Books