The Dark Brotherhood: A Listener's Tale, The tale of what it takes to become the merciless Listener of the Dark Options

[allshallfade]

This is a fanfiction that I started over a year ago as of last month, and it is something that I am still working on today. It's basically the storyline of the Dark Brotherhood, told from the point of view of a cold-hearted woman who enjoys nothing more then to kill. I know that the plot is not original, but I feel that the character's thoughts and emotions, along with her interaction with other character's, sets it apart from the blandness of the plot. Anyways, I know it's long, but please, just bare with me!

If you read and review, I can't thank you enough- it really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: The Old Woman and the Cottage

I killed the old woman. I don’t know what made me do it; I still can’t understand it to this day. I suppose that this is where my tale starts; where my life gets interesting. Oh boy, does it get interesting. And I don’t generally mean that in a good way. You’ll see. I had been hunting down up North, by the Nordic-fashioned city of Bruma, when I felt a presence nearby. I guess you could call it a sixth sense. I crouched down, bow in hand, and slowly crept over a small hill. When I reached the top, I saw a little cottage nestled in the mountains, with a patch of flat land serving as a single person farm. An old woman was there, working in the farm, raking down new rows for what looked like fresh potato plants.

How could I know then that this house would be the location of so much pain and misery in my future? Looking back, I wished that I had simply turned around and never glanced back. However, my instinctual curiosity, useful in so many aspects of my life, was my downfall here. I sat to watch the woman, mystified, as I hadn’t seen a human, elf, or beast race for nearly a week. I had become a rather solitary being, making my living off of the land, sleeping where I felt it was safe enough, whether it be cave or slab of rock.

Squinting against the setting sun, I saw the woman’s graying hair and wrinkling face, her movements obviously displaying the aching and grinding of her old bones. After a moment of her work, she straightened, shielding her eyes from the sun with a callused hand. She must have decided that it was enough for the day, as she collected her supplies and headed toward her thatched-roof cottage in the slow, shuffling, achy pace of the elderly.

I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to kill the woman, to drive my dagger into her flesh. I felt a sudden…rage at her, such inexplicable anger that I needed to act upon. I’m not sure if my fury was against her, or against the world. But at that moment, all the feeling I had in me was focused on her. I have had such urges before, to strike, to kill, but always in public, surrounded by many. My impulses had always been controlled by necessity. Now, however, I was in the middle of nowhere. I guess that’s the reason I couldn’t stop myself.

And before I knew what was happening, everything around me became silent. Time seemed to slow as my senses were heightened. Her breathing was a slow, rhythmic rasping in my ears, and an eternity seemed to take place in the dull thudding of two of her footsteps. I started to feel faint as I tried to control the desire to stop the noise of her footsteps, to eternally end the sound of her breath. I was fighting a loosing battle. After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality were seconds, I had put my bow on my back and was reaching for my dagger.

The sound of my dagger sliding out of its sheath was intoxicating; it made my lust for the kill even stronger. I started to creep toward her, my worn leather boots padded against the ground as I silently trod upon leaves and twigs. As I grew closer to the woman, my pace increased, until I was nearly sprinting at her on bent legs. My heartbeat was like a war drum, pounding out a fast steady beat, making my head felt like it was going to explode any second. It was overwhelming; I had to end it. When I was within yards of the old woman, I stood straight, getting into a full-out sprint at her.

She didn’t hear me until I plunged my dagger into her back. With a choking gasp, she spun about to face me, her eyes meeting mine. I saw them fill with a fleeting look of surprise, before quickly turning to one of intense pain and fear. However, her pain did not last long, as I leaned behind her and yanked my dagger out of her back, and slitting her throat in one smooth motion.

She crumbled to the floor on her very own doorstep, breathed her last gasping, gurgling breath, and became eternally still. I stood over the dead body for a moment, panting slightly. Once my heart rate had started to slow, and my senses seemed to return to normal, the reality of what I had just done crashed into me, physically staggering me.

My eyes widened, and I slumped against the side of the cottage. I still held my dagger, glistening in the fading light. It was smeared with a line of blood, dripping noiselessly to the ground, joining the pool of red liquid forming steadily at my feet. Staring at her motionless body, I felt a strong mix of emotions. First, I felt disgust in myself, but I also felt an almost disturbing sense of pride, and…fulfillment. My desire for blood had been filled; the desire I had held back for so long. I had killed livestock and beast for food, but this was different. This was…murder. However, as quickly as it had come, the disgust started to ebb away, and a small smile formed on my face as I stood up straight again.

At that moment, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck; a feeling that someone was watching me, that someone had seen what I had done. I whipped around, dagger at the ready, but saw nothing. The sun was nearly lost behind the mountains to the West, but there was still enough light for me to see the landscape around me in detail. I shuffled in full circle, but could pick out no one in the surrounding forest. Even so, I still could not loose the feeling of being watched, so I kept my dagger and bow at easy access.

Casting one last suspicious look into the immediate area, I turned back toward the body. As I looked at her corpse again, I felt another overwhelming feeling of disgust, but this time not at what I had done- now at the fact that I didn’t feel any remorse for my actions; no pity for the defenseless old woman. I wanted to- I genuinely wanted to feel bad, to feel guilty. But I didn’t. I…couldn’t. Sighing, pushing the unsettling thoughts out of my mind, I squatted down and started to search her for valuables.

I found about 4 gold, which was quite a sum to me at that time, and a letter to some gift-giving service listing the locations of all of her kids. I pocketed the list, not really sure why. I also found the key to her cottage. I looked back up at the sky, finding that the sun had almost disappeared, so I decided to spend the night in her house. I dragged her body into the tall grass surrounding the home before slipping the key into the lock and opening the cottage door.

Upon entering, I found that the old woman (Perennia Draconis, according to the letter) had a dog when it started barking incessantly, but it seemed as ancient as she had been. I tossed it some old boar meat from my pack, and he eagerly started gnawing at it, completely forgetting my presence. I quickly scanned the interior, looking for valuables, but not finding much. According to the sign over the mantle, the place was called “Applewatch”.

My stomach growled, so I looked into my pack and pulled out some venison and various vegetables I had stored for my trip. I cooked them in the fire place, petting the content dog while stoking the fire. Looking back, I didn’t even feel uneasy spending such a pleasant time in the home of the woman I had just mercilessly slain. My thoughts at the time were only of the food I was cooking. After my meal, I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me, so I stripped out of my leather greaves, boots and cuirass and pulled on a long coarse shirt to sleep in. I slipped my dagger under my pillow, placed my quiver and bow on the bedside table, and slid into the warm recesses of the covers. It was extremely comfortable, compared to my recent sleeping arrangements, which had consisted of rock slabs and leaf piles. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I was woken not four hours later when my blood seemed to turn to ice, the air still and silent. In one fluid movement I had sat bolt upright and pulled my dagger out from under my pillow, holding it menacingly out into the dark room. I sat there, panting for second, trying to peer through the complete darkness, when a deep, sinister voice spoke to my right.

“You sleep rather soundly for murderer. That’s good. You’ll need a clear conscience for what I’m about to propose.”

I leapt to the left, pulling the covers off the bed as I swung my dagger wildly into midair, attempting to defend myself. I pressed my back against the wall, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Across the bed I saw a man, clothed and hooded in the darkest black. His deep brown eyes were studying, assessing every move I made, always calculating. He seemed to be almost…amused at my reaction. His lips were curled up ever so slightly at the corners, and his intense eyes were gleaming with laughter.

“Who-who are you?” I demanded, mentally assessing my options. Listen to him talk, charge and attack, or run. Talking seemed to be the most favorable of my options; he looked quite skilled with a blade, and his athletic form could be seen even through his robes and the way he moved; he could probably outrun me. Besides, I wanted to see what he had to say. He was…intriguing.

“I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your deathcraft, pleases the Night Mother. And so, I come to you with an offer. An opportunity to join our rather…unique family.”

I had no idea what to say. How did he know I had murdered the woman? And how had he known so quickly? Could he have been the presence I sensed after her death? But how had he known I was going to kill her? And what- My internal bombarding of questions was cut off as he continued, looking at me in a way that seemed to convey that he knew exactly what my thoughts were.

“So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely. On the Green Road to the North of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. He is an old man, his body frail, and he sleeps his days away. You could kill him before he woke, if you so chose. In whatever way you choose, kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family.”

I thought about his last statement, and some of the possible implications one could interpret from it, and was suddenly extremely aware of the shortness of my shirt, and how much my legs were showing. I colored slightly, embarrassed at my own thoughts, which were most likely completely unfounded. He continued on, seemingly undeterred by my silence.

“Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence,” he said with his slight smile, handing me a gold-decorated dagger.

‘The Blade of Woe’ was inscribed on its gold and black hilt. I stood digesting this

for a moment, before I looked him in the eye and said questioningly:

“The Dark Brotherhood?”

“Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you’ll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals. We kill for profit, for enjoyment, and for the glory of the Dread Father Sithis. We are a family, with bonds forged in blood… and death.”

Deep in the recesses of my mind I found a distant memory; of my early teen years, working at the linen shop with my aunt. The daily routine involved scrubbing fabric clean in the back room, while gossiping with the fellow workers. I remember my aunt leaning conspiratively over her scrub board, eyes wide and her voice fearful:

“They say that when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood visits you in your sleep. It’s how they recruit new members.”

The understanding must have shown on my face, for he nodded briskly and said:

“Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we’ll meet again soon.” And with one last lingering look, in which he took in my scantly dressed form with a slightly raised eyebrow and an amused gleam in his eye, Lucien Lachance vanished. Literally. The door to the cottage opened and closed, seemingly on its own accord, and a cold draft sweeping into the room. The sounds of night filled the room, embracing me.

I stood for a moment, perhaps more, rigid in astonishment. I realized now that I had often heard of the Dark Brotherhood, but these were always tales of evil and heartless murder. And I had just been asked to join them. To ‘join their family’, as Lachance had put it. Did that make me evil? Was I evil? I thought of the body lying cold outside in the tall grass, and still didn’t feel a pang of shame or guilt. I realized that I was just that; a cold, heartless murderer. Maybe not evil, but I was a cold-blooded murderer. I wasn’t ready to admit myself as evil. Not yet.

When Lachance had spoken of them, he made the Brotherhood sound like they were…close. A family. A loving family of cold-blooded assassins. The idea seemed so preposterous that I almost laughed out loud. My first inclination was to forget the whole prospect- to never even go near the Inn of Ill Omen. Best to disregard the whole thing. But as I lowered myself back onto the bed, picking up the comforter and pulling it over my body, I couldn’t stop replaying Lucien’s words in my thoughts.

For my whole life I had felt almost overpowering urges to kill, to murder. But I had always resisted, always controlled myself. At sometimes I had barely contained myself, but I had never given in. Until now. Since my desires did not seem to be shared by any I knew, I had always considered myself a freak of nature, a one of a kind outcast. I felt that my only option was to just conform to fit in with society. But now it seemed that there were others like me; those who embraced their gifts for murder. And these people wanted to accept me as one of their own.

And what about this ‘Speaker’, this Lucien Lachance? The way he spoke of murder- he seemed to feel the same way that I had felt about killing the old woman. It was…intoxicating. I had not even accepted his offer, yet he was already treating me as family. No one had ever treated me like that, not since my aunt died when I was young. Part of me wanted to see this “Lucien Lachance” again…in the short time I had met him he had made an impression.

Maybe I would just go and check out the Inn, to see what was there. Just to see where the man lived, I thought to myself. The rest of the night continued in the same fashion, with internal arguments and self-objections. Finally, after a sleepless and thought filled night, I set out at dawn for the Inn, fill of determination and purpose. I was going to kill that man. I was going to join the Dark Brotherhood.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Twelve: WhoDunIt Part IV

I knelt beside the body of Neville, watching as his veins were drained of their life’s liquid. My eyes were glowing red from the reflection of his blood, my lips upturned slightly at the corners, forming a dark smile of sadistic satisfaction. I sat very still, not a muscle moving, the only sound a steady trickling of blood.

Yet although my body was motionless, my mind was racing, attempting to calculate my next move. I did have more time to prepare than I had had after Primo’s death, but I couldn’t be sure when someone would go looking to change floors. And I didn’t want to be caught on the third floor instead of the second.

And although I thought intensely, I realized that there was not too much planning for the future that I could actually do; accurately at least. So much depended upon chance, on how things played out, I mused… but I did think it was best to leave Neville’s body where it lay, as it would be hard to hide the blood, and the fact that he was preparing himself for battle as he was killed would frighten the remaining guests even more.

Shaking my head slightly, I drew myself from these thoughts to find that the blood flow was starting to cease. Leaning over the rim of the chest, I found that it was nearly half full of the red liquid. Staring down at my crimson reflection, I was overcome with a powerful urge; I wanted to touch it, to feel the blood on my skin…

Reaching forward, my heart beating intensely, I slowly dipped my index finger into the deep pool, a chill running down my spine. I swirled the liquid slowly, savoring its thick warmth…it made me feel so alive, that I had caused this to spill from a once living, breathing body! That this had once been pumping through the veins of another, giving them life… and I had taken it!

Breathing hard, almost panting in anticipation, I withdrew my finger slowly and rubbed the blood against my thumb, smearing it, relishing in its warm density before bringing it below my noise. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the aroma. Many say that blood does not have an odor, but they do not understand- there is a scent, one that I know and love. It smells of freshly shaped metal, sill hot from the blacksmiths hammer. It smells like the stale air, just after a storm of rain has passed- and it smells of the night; of the cloudless midnight where shadow and shade hides all in its dark abyss…

And yet there was work to be done, and, deciding not to waste any time, I reluctantly left my vigil by Neville’s side. I wiped my hand carefully on a inner layer of my skirt, making sure no blood was visible on my body, and made my way softly down the stairs, praying that no one had switched floors yet.

The sounds of desperate and hurried movement came from below me- I could hear the tossing of books, the shuffled sound of feet moving rapidly around the room, and metal thud of platters and decorations being shifted about. Yet none came from the second floor, where I had been assigned.

I glanced off the balcony onto the first floor, and saw that Matilde was still down there- and quite a job of searching she was doing, I thought bemusedly, watching as she hysterically flung books from their shelves, pounding frantically at the wood behind, presumably searching for hollow sections which may hide the chest.

I could kill her where she stood, I thought with a jolt- but I never knew when Nels could come up the stairs, and he would most certainly raise the alarm, great enough to wake Dovesi. I couldn’t have that, so I decided to wait it out, play their game for awhile. I would await the most opportune moment to strike. This thought sent a pleasant shiver down my spine, and I too began to search my floor, making a show of throwing things about.

Time passed, I cannot recall how much, but I was beginning to grow restless just as Matilde finally offered to switch floors with me. She was quite pale, and her eyes were haunted. The old woman must have had a very sheltered life if this was the worst she had ever been exposed to, I thought bitterly. But I gave her words of encouragement, that one of us had to be able to find the chest, that Neville was right, there couldn‘t be a murderer, just an unfortunate accident…and that she would be free from this soon. Only the last statement was true.

I added to the destruction of the first floor, actually finding the activity to be quite enjoyable at times. Yet my mind was awaiting the moment that either Dovesi or Matilde would find Neville’s body, let out the cry of horror… yet nothing came. I was glad that I had switched floors, because now it was not only Dovesi and I who could be suspected; Matilde would now have had the location and time to commit the crime.

Yet the suspect I would have most liked to have blamed would have been Nels, yet he seemed the only one who would be free of suspicion when the time came, as he had yet to take the second floor, and Dovesi or Matilde was bound to find Neville before they could switch.

I was deep in thought, standing on a chair to check the bookcases, when suddenly I heard the sound of footsteps right behind me. Quite startled, I staggered and slipped wildly off the chair, barely landing on my two feet.

“Woa there!” came Nels’ booming voice, and he reached two massive arms out and grabbed my shoulders, helping regain my balance. Once I was steady, I pressed a hand to my chest and gave a short laugh.

“You scared me there!” I exclaimed, while internally berating myself for letting my guard down, and enough to let him surprise me so much.

He smiled again, but it did not quite reach his eyes. “I suppose everyone’s a bit jumpy, I mean, considering…” he trailed off, as if wishing he had not spoken.

I narrowed my eyes inquisitively at him. “But… Neville said everything was okay… that it was an accident… what is there to be jumpy about?” My voice was wavering slightly, eyes concerned and uncertain.

“Yes, yes he did. But I’m still not so sure- he may talk as though he is an experienced veteran of the Legion… but can we ever really know his past? Can we really believe anything that anyone here tells us?” he said thoughtfully. I was quite surprised by this insight from the Nord, and he spoke again before I could.

“I just get the feeling that even if he is telling the truth about that, he’s still holding something back. If he was a member of the Legion, then he surely knows the value of keeping the whole truth from the public, to prevent panic.”

“Are you trying to say…that Primo was murdered?” I stuttered, but my voice was doubtful.

He looked thoughtful for a moment, his gaze far off. “I don’t really know,” he said finally. “But I do know that Neville was hiding something, and that’s the only thing I can think of… but enough of this. We should work on getting out of here.”

I nodded, and he continued. “Would you like to switch floors? I’m finished with the basement, and believe me, there’s nothing down there. I tore the place apart.”

I looked around the room and felt lucky that I hadn’t searched it too thoroughly yet.

“Actually, I would like some more time… if it isn’t too much trouble, I think Matilde’s been on the second floor for awhile. She may want to switch.”

“Alright, I’ll ask her then,” he said, turning and raising his hand in farewell.

Climbing back onto my chair, I watched him intently as he mounted the stairs, listening closely. I heard him greet Matilde, and she in return. He did not attempt anymore conversation than that, skipping right to the offer of switching floors.

This is where I held my breath- if she accepted his offer, she would go downstairs, and that meant that Nels would have had time to kill Neville as well, making each and every one of us suspect. But if she denied it, he may go upstairs in search of Neville…

“Well yes, I suppose I’m finished here. You say the basement is finished? Well I guess I’ll go downstairs and help Addy then…” I let out a sigh of relief. Perfect.

“Yes, of course…. Say, you haven’t seen Neville since this morning, have you?” said Nels.

There was a pause, and I stopped moving, leaning upwards and putting every ounce of my concentration on the quiet conversation.

“Actually no, I have not. But I believe he is still upstairs, searching,” she replied, and I heard Nels give a small grunt of acknowledgement. This couldn’t get any better! I thought gleefully. If Nels was left up there for at least about a half hour, I mused, that conversation would seem highly suspicious after Neville’s body was found…

I started pulling out books from the shelf as I heard Matilde descending the stairs, and looked up when she was in view.

“Would you like some help, deary? Nels says that he is finished with the basement, and I would rather not go down there alone anyways.”

“Of course, I’d appreciate it,” I replied, smiling warmly.

In reality, I would appreciate very much to kill her where she stood, but I knew that a better situation would arise. Since the second floor was a balcony overlooking the first, the sounds of death could be easily heard by Nels, and he was moving around up there quite a bit; who knew when he would chance a look over the edge? Better not risk it, better to wait…

And so Matilde and I continued our fruitless search of the first floor, speaking little, only to instruct the other to aid with a particularly difficult spot to examine. She seemed nervous, and many times I thought she meant to ask me something- she would take a deep breath as though about to speak, but then let it out slowly, keeping her gaze lowered. I was appreciative of her silence though, and did not push the situation.

I was ever alert, awaiting the moment when Neville would be discovered. His absence had been noticed, and it couldn’t be too long until they went looking for him, or Dovesi awoke and discovered his body…

After a nearly excruciating hour, Nels called down to us.

“Are you two still down there?” his voice echoed from the floor above.

“Yes!” we called in unison, and he stuck his head over the railing, scanning the ruins we had left the foyer in. Books, papers, and pieces of parchment were spread all over the floor, broken splinters of wood and glass littering the ground.

“It looks like you’re nearly done searching, eh?” He said, a glint of amusement in his eye.

We nodded sheepishly, looking around at the destruction we had caused, before I spoke.

“We need to regroup, I think. Has anyone found anything yet?” I asked.

They both shook their heads, and we all glanced upwards towards the third floor.

“Has… has anyone spoken with Neville… at all today?” asked Matilde timidly. She tried to contain her fear, but her voice was cracking obviously.

We all shook our head slowly again, and exchanged looks of barely concealed anxiety.

“Well… maybe we should go check on him?” I said slowly, after a moment of tense silence.

The others nodded quickly, as though happy not to have been the ones to suggest it, and started walking silently towards the stairs, Matilde trying to conceal quick and anxious steps as she led the way.

We ascended the flights of stairs quickly, the air becoming thicker and tenser as we started to come to the door leading to the third floor hallway. Matilde slowed as she reached the last few steps, treading lightly. We came to a near stop, and were dismayed as we didn’t hear any sound of movement, no sign that anything was alive up there.

With an impending sense of dread, Matilde glanced back at us apprehensively and pushed the slightly open door until it swung wide, revealing the empty corridor. We all crowded through the door, the only sound greeting us the wood creaking and groaning beneath our feet.

We sat in the silence for a moment, listening hard, before Nels finally took a breath and said softly: “Neville? Neeeeville? You out there?”

Silence at first was all we heard, but as we took a few timid steps down the hall, dreading what each glance in a room may reveal, we heard something. Someone was moving around, the stirring of blankets, the shuffling of footsteps…

Matilde froze, and put her hands backwards, as though reaching for something to hold her steady. I darted forward, squeezing her hands reassuringly, and looked up at Nels. He had his fists clenched, ready for a fight. We stood impossibly still, almost crouching, our bodies tense…

But then, we heard a timid response; a soft, uneasy voice: “Is that you Nels?”

We all sighed, and stood straight again. It was just Dovesi.

“Yes, it’s us. Where are you? Are you okay?” he responded.

“I’m… I’m fine. What’s going on? Who’s us?” she called out.

“Why don’t you come out here and we’ll talk.” Nels was suspicious, I realized. He understood that Neville had not revealed himself yet, and he was supposed to be up here, all alone, with Dovesi…

“Oh, of course…” she said, and we listened as Dovesi opened the door into the hall, poking her head out cautiously at first, before walking slowly over to us. Her eyes were still clouded with sleep and the after effects of tears, her hair tousled and dress rumpled.

Her gaze darted quickly at us, taking in the three of us, and then glanced around.

“Where’s Neville?” she asked.

“We were just about to ask you that, Dovesi,” said Nels quietly.

“Now before we start this again, let’s just try to find him, shall we?” I interjected angrily.

“Find him?” Dovesi squeaked. “He’s… missing?”

There was a silence, and then I said slowly “Dovesi, have you seen Neville at all today?”

“Not since this morning, before you brought me upstairs,” she said quickly, her voice weak.

I turned to Nels and Matilde. “Did you see him come upstairs?” I asked them.

“I did,” said Matilde. “Before I went to the first floor, I saw him going up.”

“Well I was up here and I never saw him,” I said. “But I was with Dovesi for awhile, and he may have already been searching a room. I could have passed by him…”

We sat in silence again, I getting frustrated. Would I have to do everything?

“Well… I think we need to find him. We can’t just let him disappear, there‘s not far he could have gone. And maybe he found a way out of the house and didn’t tell us….” Nels made a grunt of disapproval. “Whatever the case may be, we need to find him, or some trace of him,” I finished.

“You’re right,” said Matilde. “Not knowing can be worse, anyways…”

Happy that things were finally going the way I wished, we all agreed to search together, not to split up. It was only going to be a moment now, it couldn’t possibly take them long to find his body, I thought with rising anticipation.

We let Nels lead the way, and he first checked Dovesi’s room, looking about thoroughly for signs of any suspicious activity. I saw she took great offense to this, her eyes narrowed and her expression stony. Eventually however, even Nels had to admit there was nothing to be found, and we left the room and walked across the hall.

My heart started to pound hard within my chest, blood rushing throughout my veins. The moment I had waited for so patiently was about to arrive… the moment of discovery…

Nels pushed the door open slowly, peering around the edge. It creaked and moaned, slowly swinging back… and when it reached about halfway, Nels stopped pushing it, but it continued to swing open heedlessly. He was stunned, motionless, and once the door was fully open, the other guests understood why.

It looked as though the wooden chest wasn’t waterproof, as some blood had leaked out onto the floor and stained scarlet the area surrounding the body of Neville. The only skin that could of him be seen was the back of his neck, but it was ghastly pale, and his body had an almost deflated look, as though it were drained.

There was a moment where what lay before us sunk in, each guest’s eyes drawn unwaveringly upon the body- but it was soon broken as Dovesi let out a shriek, while falling back against the wall dramatically. Matilde gasped and her hands flew to her mouth, and she looked as though she was going to be sick. She turned back into the hallway and started to gag.

I looked over at Nels- he had yet to move, his gaze still firmly rested upon Neville’s lifeless form. His eyes were cold, his faze stony. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of that. His theory that Primo’s death had indeed been a murder was now almost positively proven true, but he obviously was not too pleased at this revelation. I could only imagine where his thoughts were right now.

Glancing at their reactions, I realized that I only had a few seconds now to decide how I was going to play this…

And so I drew my hands over my mouth, holding back a scream, before closing my eyes as if I could not bear to look what lay within the room. I stuck my hands out blindly forward, grasping at the wall and stumbling. I turned away from the door and back into the hall, leaning my back against the wall and sliding down to a kneeling position on the ground.

Dovesi, who was still plastered almost theatrically against the wall, tears streaming down her face, slid down next to me, and I leaned my head over towards her slowly, wrapping my arms around her shoulders as I did so.

“I can’t believe… Neville… is he…” Dovesi blubbered, and Matilde breathed in deeply, her eyes closed.

There was silence, but it was suddenly burst by an angry, deep voice.

“The man is dead, you horse's boat! There's nothing more to tell!” Nels had turned about and his gaze was fiery. “You… you, left alone up here all day, with him! And he turns up dead! What do-”

“Nels!”

My voice was commanding, strong and forceful. He seemed stunned, as I had not showed this side of myself. There was a long silence before I spoke again.

“It could have been any of us,” I said quietly, my gaze downward.

“What are you talking about?” Matilde said quickly.

“Think about it… yes, Dovesi was left up here alone with him all day, but she also could have been sleeping, as she said. Matilde, you were on the second floor alone for at least an hour, you could have snuck up here… and Nels, you were up on the second floor alone as well! And I, I was as well… we all had the chance…”

“You did ask about him before I went downstairs!” Matilde said accusingly at Nels. “You wanted to know if he was still up here!”

“But you knew he was up here! How could you have known unless you had been up here, and if you’d been up here you would have had to have seen his body!” retorted Nels, firing up for a fight.

“Now really, nothing can be gained from quarrelling like this-” I started, but Dovesi suddenly jerked free of my grasp and stood up, tears streaming down her face.

“Two of us, dead! And I know, whether you believe me or not, that I didn’t do this! So who would do this?” Her eyes were darting around spasmodically, her entire body shaking. We were silent, watching her in fearful apprehension.

“And why? Is that why we're all here? To be killed like vermin? I feel like I'm going mad! I don't care about the gold anymore!“ She shrieked. “I just want to get out of here!”

She turned about wildly, and then seemed to come to a conclusion.

“I'm going to try all the windows and doors, and see if I can't get one open!” she shouted as she ran off down the hall. She was unable to keep in a straight line, as though she were drunk, and kept leaning up against the walls as she bumped heavily into them, before starting to go down the stairs. The three of us were too stunned to react at first, but as she thumped down the stairs the realization seemed to hit.

“Someone’s got to go after her,” I said, looking urgently at them. “She’s not safe in her condition…”

“I don’t care if she kills herself!” said Nels. I looked at him horrified, about to speak.

But then his face softened, and his gaze was far away. “I haven't seen death like this in a long, long time…It's a bit more than my nerves can handle, I'm afraid. I plan to gather up every drop of drink in this house and keep it to myself, if things get any worse around here.”

With a start, I suddenly realized why he had reacted so vehemently against Dovesi after Primo’s death. I remembered when I had first spoken with him, and he had said how she reminded him of his long lost daughter- he had been fond of her, had looked upon her as a replacement of his daughter almost… but then, in his eyes, she turned out to be a murderer! The mind really was a strange thing, I thought as I looked into his still slightly wrathful face.

I turned to look at Matilde, but she just stared back, eyes wide. I had to act quickly, or Dovesi could ruin everything. Even if she couldn’t manage to get out, she would make enough noise to attract outside ears, and I certainly could not let that happen…

“Alright, well I’m going to make sure she’s okay. Please don’t separate, I don’t know what I’d do if… if…” I said quickly, and Matilde nodded emphatically, her face fearful.

Nels just closed the door to Neville’s room, in a final sort of way.

“We’ll take care of… of this,” he said, gesturing back towards Neville’s room. I nodded, and he watched as I started off at a quick pace down the stairs and towards the sounds of Dovesi’s movements.

I got off the second staircase leading to the first floor, and looked round to see Dovesi holding a chair high above her head, just about to throw it through a window. Before I had time to utter a sound, she had chucked it hard into the glass.

Only the upper area of window shattered completely, revealing a blue, cloudless sky. It was not enough space to fit a body through, and Dovesi started frantically clawing at the hole, trying to widen the opening. It was thick glass, at least a inch and a half, but her desperation made the process much quicker.

If I didn’t act quickly, she was going to ruin everything. This stupid, foolish girl! Falling in love with a man she had just barely met, over dramatizing everything, unable to keep her head straight when things got tough, just breaking down like a little child! She was such a selfish, self-centered little brat- a pathetic excuse for a woman, for a Dunmer, and for anything with any shred of intelligence! And now, now she was about to ruin everything I had worked for by having a nervous breakdown? No, I could not, would not let her!

I had lost all control in my fury; something had arisen within my soul, in my very being… and before I could pause to think about what I was doing, I was striding toward Dovesi, my anger and bloodlust that had been held back so long now fully released, unable to be contained any longer. Almost in a trance, I saw on the ground in front of me a piece of broken glass, in the shape of a long triangle, thick enough to stay sturdy, but sharp enough to slice the skin…

I kneeled down quickly to pick it up, savoring the feel of the heavy, jagged glass in the grasp of my hand, and took two more steps at Dovesi’s back, time slowing and my head filled with the beating of my heart, the deep rasping of my breath, and of hers…

And I drew back the piece of colored glass, taking in a deep shuddering breath of pure ecstasy, the sunlight reflecting the glass in a myriad of colors against the wall…

Time seem to come to a complete standstill as I had reached the end of my backstroke, my hand grasping the glass, about to strike forward towards the unscathed flesh of her back. I held my breath for that instant, the last second before the kill…

And as though a sudden fast-forward of time had taken place, I let the breath out and simultaneously drove my crude dagger into her back. I struck just below the neck, digging in deeply, shattering bone and puncturing lung and vein.

Dovesi’s body stopped mid-motion, her arm still upraised to tear at the opening in the glass window. There was a choking sound, a deep guttural heave as she tried to draw breath. My heart was racing and my breath was short as I watched her turn slowly about, stumbling slightly, to face me.

When her eyes met mine I saw a flash of surprise, of complete shock… and the look of a victim of betrayal at it‘s darkest meaning. But an instant later it turned to one of such intense pain that I knew she would have been screaming, had she been capable of doing so.

She held my gaze as she fell to the floor, the light leaving her eyes so quickly that I could almost feel the rushing shadow of the void coming to meet her at her life’s end. I held eye contact until the last second, where she tried to take one last breath before slumping down amongst the shattered window, her eyes glassy and unseeing.

I stood for another two seconds, completely immersed and fulfilled by this long awaited kill, before I realized the situation. If Matilde and Nels came down the stairs to see what all the noise had been caused by, everything would be ruined, it would be all too obvious that I was the killer. I had to act quickly… and it seemed there was only one thing for me to do.

I darted back to the stairs, angled myself so it seemed I had been walking down them again… and let out a high pitched, ear splitting scream.

I immediately heard the thumping sound of footsteps from above, and proceeded to slid down the wall, curl up, and continue screaming and sobbing. I distinctly heard two sets of footsteps coming down from the third floor, but only Matilde appeared at the top of the flight of stairs leading to the first floor. She descended quickly, her face full of concern.

“Oh my, what is it now deary?” she said, kneeling down beside me and clutching my elbows. “Are you hurt?”

I shook my head, trying to force tears out but failing dismally, so I instead pointed a quivering finger toward Dovesi’s body. She had fallen backwards, pushing the glass dagger all the way up through the center of her chest, it’s point scarlet and still clinging to chunks of her innards.

Matilde let out a gasp that turned into a short of shriek, and she looked back at me with fearful eyes.

“They must be hiding in the house somewhere, whoever did this! This just happened, they must be close by!” she exclaimed, casting her eyes fearfully about the room.

She really was dimwitted, I thought scornfully. But I was glad of it in this instance…

“They could be anywhere… anywhere! Just waiting for us to walk by…” I saw in Matilde the panicked, distraught look that Dovesi had just portrayed moments ago. She stood quickly and started pacing, darting her head about incessantly.

“Oh, I just can’t take it anymore, I have to get out of here!” she exclaimed suddenly, her voice ear splitting. And before I could speak, she was running towards the front door, emitting little sobs as she went. I turned quickly and looked up the stairs, trying to figure out where the hell Nels was… I had to kill Matilde, she was causing a racket, but I couldn’t let him see…

She was pounding on the door, screaming and shouting for aid, kicking and slapping… Nels was nowhere in sight, and so I tried to listen for him, to see if he was coming down the stairs. Yet after a quick moment of this I could not hear anything over Matilde’s exclamations of hysteria… the woman was an incessant nag… and seconds later I lost my patience. Under my breath, I muttered threateningly “Shut….up…”

And I pulled my dagger from the sheath hidden on my leg, eyes fiery and fingers clenched tightly around the hilt. I could not wait any longer to find Nels, if she wasn’t silenced soon the whole town would come barging through the door… things had gotten out of hand so quickly…

With all the passion, all the anger and all the fury I possessed, I took aim and hurled the dagger at Matilde with a cry of sadistic triumph. It struck her straight in the back of the head, and having been thrown with such force, went straight through her skull and into the door, quivering slightly from the impact. Her body went limp, and yet it was still held up by the dagger. She looked almost like a floppy rag doll of some sorts.

I was panting, trying to control my breathing, the anger still brewing within me. I forced my breath down to shorter gasps and darted back to the stairs, in case Nels would look over the edge of the balcony. I leaned my head backwards and closed my eyes, regaining control of my consciousness. It was times like those, while killing Dovesi and Matilde, that I truly felt as if my soul was being overtaken by some force, a sadistic being full of a never saturated thirst for blood, which I could not control.

But there were other matters that needed attending to, I thought brusquely. Nels was still out there…

I climbed the stairs slowly, hand resting upon my second dagger. I was tense, ready, in case Nels had witnessed the murder and was trying to surprise me. There was five steps left… four… three…two…

And as I poked my head up over the edge of the stairs to look onto the second floor, I found Nels in clear sight, sitting at the table, mug of ale in hand. There was three bottles already in front of him, and he seemed to be downing them at record speed. I walked up the last step, slowly making my way to the table, my gaze never leaving his hunched over form.

As I drew closer he raised his face to meet mine, his eyes already starting to turn bloodshot. His look was mild and sardonic, and his head bobbed a little as he spoke.

“Please, not now. I just want to be by myself for a bit…” he said. Looking him directly in the eye, I took a step closer.

His face darkened, but he did raise his voice or move a muscle. After a moment of eye contact, a fierce battle of stares, he turned away first.

“Fine,” he said, and he drew the mug to his lips and gulped down deeply, some spilling and drizzling down his chin.

I walked around the table and came to sit next to him, while carefully slipping a vial of poison from within my skirts and palming it. He lowered his mug and watched me. I smiled satirically.

“Let me drink with you,” I said.

He nodded, and gestured to the ample amount of alcohol on the table before us. As I was reaching across Nels’ torso for a bottle of wine, I let my sleeve fall and block his view of his mug of ale. While my hand passed over the ale, I dumped as much from the little vial as I could manage into the mug. A drop would have been enough, but it would have been a slow, prolonged death…

I made sure to slip the vial securely back up my sleeve before drawing my arm back, clutching the bottle of wine. I uncorked it and held it up, looking at him expectantly. He raised his mug and clinked it against my drink, and we both took deeps swigs of the liquor. We sat in silence, I awaiting the moment when his eyes would start to flicker, just as though he were falling asleep… But it did not come.

He turned to me several moments later. He was smiling, but it was a humorless look that did not reach his eyes.

“You want to know something, my friend?” he said, his voice throaty. I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

“I just don't care anymore. We're the only two left. I know I didn't kill those people, so that leaves you.” I held his gaze unwaveringly, never looking away. My expression did not change; my eyes were blank and could not be read. They were cold and dark; colder than they had ever been. That, he could see.

“So now you're here to kill me, right?” There was no denying it. I inclined my head slowly, but still kept eye contact. He swallowed deeply, but did not make any other motion.

“I have but one thing to ask,” he said after a few seconds. “Please, make it quick. I wish to see my daughter again, with all my heart… do not make me wait any longer…” his voice cracked.

My eyes continued to watch him, expression unyielding. He looked up at me, pleading almost, and I spoke after a moment, my voice even.

“I killed you five minutes ago.”

His face became confused, perplexed- but I looked at his mug, and he followed my gaze. Realization dawned in his eyes, and he took a deep breath, leaning back in the chair. It wouldn’t be long now…

“Sleep…” I murmured. “It’s time to sleep…”

He breathed out heavily, and starting to breath in again… but then seemed to think better of it. His lips turned up in the corners, almost a smile, and his body became still. He was finally at peace. He was going to see his daughter again.

After a moment I leaned forward and touched his forehead lightly, before softly closing this still open eyelids with the back of my index finger. I leaned back in my chair.

The fifth and final soul had joined Sithis in the void.