Template:Story Jailor

The sun had set already. The people of the Town moved along the paths and streets of a lamp-lit Salem after the town's afternoon meeting.

One figure, his hand moving to turn the doorknob to his house, had suddenly found himself in a blindfold and handcuffs. He was surprised enough to drop his keys. Then, he was hauled away under the cover of darkness.

He would not be in his bed that night, nor out doing his own duty. Instead, he would find himself tossed into a pitiful jail cell. Stone walls, a small cot, and a bucket were the only material inside.

After many minutes, the barred window of the cell's only metal door came a voice in a sovereign tone. "What is your role in this mess?"

The figure, alone in the cell, sweats and looks from the cell door back up towards the bars. The voice sounds again, compelling and potent in its ultimatum, "Make your claim, or you will die here."

Handcuffed and nervous, he calls out, "I-I'm the Doctor! I was only trying to heal someone!"

It didn't work. The so-called Doctor could hear the sound of a gun being taken out of its holster. That sovereign voice of the Jailor sounded again, but this time, his masked face could be seen behind those rusted bars.

"...I had a visit from Doc' yesterday. He dropped his keys on the way out." The masked Jailor raised the cuffed figure's doorkeys, teasingly jingling them.

"It wasn't you."

Then, the door opened. The pistol aimed. And the cuffed Serial Killer never saw the light of day again. (credit)