The next morning I resolved to turn myself in for what I'd done. I marched myself across town to the city jail, and after taking a deep breath, went inside. It was crowded inside, and the guards appeared to have their hands full. After waiting my turn in line, I approached the desk and cleared my throat. The woman behind the counter looked up and asked what my business was.
"I ... I would like to turn myself in."
She raised an eyebrow, and the guard standing nearest the counter stiffened. "What did you do?"
I hesitated, then announced, "I killed a man. Some men. Several."
By now the guard was on full alert and looked ready to stab me with his spear. "Who did you kill?" The woman asked, dipping her pen in the inkwell and preparing to write in her logbook.
"I ... I don't know their names."
"How many did you kill?" She asked, not looking up from her logbook as she scribbled down information. Her handwriting was small and angular.
"Seven or eight .... it .... it all runs together a bit." I don't remember how many the farmer had asked me to kill. I just know that once I had settled into the idea that they were vermin and I was seeking revenge for my hometown of Archet, the killing had come easy and I ... I had lost myself.
The woman looked up at me, obviously surprised at the number. "Where did this happen?"
"Outside of town, in the ruins south of the Road." I answered.
"Blackwolds?" she asked, skeptical.
I nodded.
The guard standing by the counter relaxed visibly, and the woman laughed - a warm, throaty sound. "You mean to tell me you're trying to turn yourself in for doing the city a service?" She scratched out everything she had written in the logbook with bold strokes.
"But I need to be arrested. I killed those people. I'm ... a murderer."

I blinked and stumbled backwards, tripping over the uneven floorboards. I scrambled to my feet, shaking my head, and ran out the door.
Outside, there was a woman kicking and spitting on a Blackwold tied to a post. I stood for a moment and watched them both, and saw the hate, the fury, in the woman's eyes as she abused this nameless man for who knew what sort of crime.
Maybe they were right. Maybe the Blackwolds weren't really people anymore.
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