He was late dammit!
The young monk Bertram was out of breath as he came up the stairs at a full run. It was shift change and he was going to be late. The brothers would be pissed. Not that they would say anything, those vows of silence were useful for something, but they will yell at him with their eyes and raised eyebrows.
At twenty-five, Bertram was old to not be a full member of the order, but they did things differently in the Order of Vigilia Infernum, the Order of the Hellwatchers. It took years to train your body and mind to cope with the stress of overseeing the infernal realm.
“Ouch, s**t,” he said as he barked his shin on the kitchen table. Luckily, he had also not taken the vows of silence yet.
His slightly pudgy form slid to a halt in front of the kitchen sink. His mo
