Library of the Condemned (Pet Diary, NO POSTING)

[Sp00kEHours]

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You Commit the Sin
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I Put it in the Books for Eternity
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Good evening, I suppose....not that I should really be saying hello to a book. Nor should I be introducing myself, since a book cannot understand any language or even understand what is written within its pages, but it is common manners to give a name. It probably won't benefit me in any way, shape, or form to have manners in my line of work, but it will help anyone who finds this miniscule journal to better understand the contents hidden within it.

My name is Danakai; no last name, no middle name. I simply go by Danakai, though some annoying creatures have addressed me as Danny, Kai, Kaiser (I'm not sure how that one came to be), or the Librarian - which is appropriate considering my profession. I should state that I am a demon and, before anyone starts to get huffy or state that I'm not sucking out their souls, not all demons are the same as they are portrayed. We face stereotypes just like normal human beings. As a demon my role is to document every sin committed by each creature that contains a soul; there is a designated demon and angel for this, and the books that are dedicated to each creature are laced with alchemy so there cannot be a false sin within the contents.

It sounds like a lot of work for one person, doesn't it?
Not to worry, and if you didn't I am glad since worrying over me would make no sense. I do not work all alone; I have four imps, none of which have names, and they are the ones who typically do the work for me while I manage my own various stack. Why do I have a job if imps can and will do it for me? These are my imps; they work only for me due to a deal we arranged, and will continue to do so until I die....only, what they don't understand is that I've already passed. I cannot die again. So I will have these imps for eternity, serving with me and providing companionship. Not that I need it, of course!


Oh dear...I'm horribly afraid that it is time for me to stop writing in this journal and get back to work. I hope that you sense the sarcasm, reader, as I don't enjoy wasting my time to put entries on these pages. The banes of my existence will be arriving soon and the last thing I want is for one of them to say 'Get back to work, boy' to me when they're the ones slacking in their own work to pay me a visit.

[Sp00kEHours]

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I've Got the Day You Die
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Marked on My Work Calendar
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This...creature, respectively, is what is known as Byzantium. Originally Byzantium was the name of an ancient Greek city on the Bosporus and the Sea of Marmara, and around the year of two thousand twelve (2001) it became a movie that had something to do with a pair of vampire women, I believe.

But the creature you see to the right within this journal is not a city in Greece, nor is it a movie with the main characters being things that dwell in the night and feast on the life blood. He is a soul reaper and holds the occupation of collecting the lives of people when their time is up, usually without having to exert force but there is the occasion of a runner - not that any mortal can outrun his wings. Though void of feathers they serve their purpose and support his weight above ground, faster than a horse or the speed riddled creatures that are known as 'cheetahs'. The dreamcatcher is almost always carried within his mouth when he is on duty, hardly taken out even to speak to those who are having their souls taken for final transportation, and due to alchemy being applied to it the dreamcatcher is used to harvest the souls before they can become lost or be stolen by the greedy creatures of the night.

Byzantium is also one of the many pests that makes bothering me a hobby of his. One of the more outgoing of the group, he manages to not only disturb me simply by being in the room but he makes a sincere effort to try to communicate. You may think that this is nice, someone just trying to be friendly with me, and I can assure you that I am not heartless nor do I entirely detest socialization. Far from it; my imps provide splendid company when I do stop to communicate with them. But there is a difference between having a pleasant conversation and having someone use my head as an armrest while addressing me in disrespectful manners such as 'Boy, Shortie' or 'Shortcake'. Due to my rank and how well I do my job, soul reaper or not there is a level of common respect that is supposed to be implied, though I suppose that I am guilty of not giving him as much as he deserves either....hm. I might have to reconsider my behavior towards Byzantium.
Maybe after a few centuries, so I can truly and thoroughly review the good and bad points of doing so.

But the evening of the previous day was one of incredible annoyance. To avoid spoiling anything in particular, I will only state the basics of the visitation from the reaper;
He entered my home, which was trademarked with tall archways decorated in the carvings of scrolls, with a loud announcement that he had arrived - in common terms, he screamed that he was 'Home' despite the fact that we do not live together nor do I welcome him with open arms into my house. Then he decided that he would raid my survival supplies and drink my apple juice (which is supposed to be only for me, as it is one of the only things that I drink when not attaching my lips to a mug of coffee) and carry the glass into my work room. Keep in mind that a juice such as that of an apple is sticky and smells strong, so to spill some on paper would be to risk ruining it permanently. Byzantium brought his glass, or my glass if the truth is to be told, and placed his arm upon my head as though my skull was designed to be a rest for such appendage. Finally, he began rambling on and on about his day, swinging the glass from side to side and making the amber liquid slosh directly over where one of my dear imps was working hard to document the day's evils committed.

Had he spilled the glass, I would have killed him again.

Once again, small book that will probably fall victim to decay before anyone may read it, I must return to my job as I have written in you in the same manner that I was required to.

[Sp00kEHours]

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Don't just Call Me
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The Mailman!
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WIP! Entry Three!

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WIP! Entry Four!

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WIP! Entry Five!

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WIP! Entry Six!

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WIP! Entry Seven!