Murderer #8

Story by bluedraggy on SoFurry

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#74 of Prequel

The End.


She recovered quickly, and the days passed in a Skooma-induced blur. She hated every minute of it, of course, but she started to make some decent coin at least. The Madam was fair enough, and the clients were easy to please though. But as the days went on, she found herself needing more Skooma to maintain her composure. The other girls introduced her to the smoking version of the drug, and that helped for a while, but by the end of the first week she realized that her income was just barely enough to cover her habit.

Then one day she woke and noticed one of her teeth was loose. She knew what that meant. She was losing it. But try as she might, she couldn't break away from the drug, and no one was there to make her. The tooth fell out one day. It was in the back and not noticible, but she sat and looked at it for a long time. Then she began to cry. The next day she noticed another tooth was loose.

She couldn't hold up any longer. It was too much. She was laying on her bed, the last client having just left, and she looked at the Skooma pipe on her table.

"I could just end it," she realized. "Just take too much. Then I could sleep. Sorry Honest John. Your work was in vain. You should have just left me to die."

She wondered idly what he must have done to keep her alive. Then something shifted in her brain. She couldn't quite define what it was, but something CHANGED.

A knock came at the door. She knew who it was. She couldn't speak.

The door opened slowly. Beyond the door was utter blackness. She saw the hand on the door. Blackened and charred.

"Hello Ra'Jirra," it said.

She screamed, but no sound came forth.

"It is time," said the cracked, hollow voice, and the thing stepped into the room, closing the door ever-so-gently behind it.

"But... the Skooma. It's supposed to keep you away! It did!"

"The Skooma let me free, Ra'Jirra. It did what you never did. It LET ME OUT!"

Ra'Jirra released her grip on reality then. It was time indeed. Time to let this happen.

"My turn," it said.

"It's 50 per hour," she found herself saying to the apparition. "How long will you use me?"

The thing shambled closer to her bed, and she took off her clothes, laying back langorously.

"How long?" it asked, kneeling beside her. "Eternity."

She spread her arms invitingly, and the thing crawled in beside her.

*****************************

"We found her like this last night," the Madam said to the priest. "She's only been on the stuff for a week, maybe a few days more."

"Worst case I've seen," he replied. "But we'll do what we can for her. She'll need to be locked in a cell till the addiction passes. You did right by her to bring her here."

"But... the madness..."

"It may pass with the addiction. Or it may not. No way to know."

"Poor girl," said the Madam.

"Indeed. Poor girl," the priest agreed.

"Every once in a while she comes out of it, you know," the Madam continued. "She sounds almost normal then, but then she'll just say 'She's back again.' and off she goes."

"Making love to a ghost. Can't say I've ever seen the like before. But we'll take as good care of her as we possibly can."

"Thank you. Now I've got to get back to the House," said the Madam.

They lifted the khajiit up and carried her to a cell in an out-building of the chapel made for such cases. Currently she was the only soul housed there, but she had regular attendants that came and took care of her. But her routine in the cell didn't last long. A few days later the addiction had broken, but the madness remained. And she had a visitor. Two actually.

"Doll?" came a gruff voice.

"Oh, excuse me. I'll be right back," she said to no one, then opened her eyes.

"Honest John? Is that you? Sorry for everything. They put me in a madhouse, you know."

"I know Doll. I know."

"I'm off the Skooma. Isn't that good?" she asked him.

He was kneeling by her small bed in the otherwise bare room.

"That's wonderful, Doll," he said, but the tears in his eyes said otherwise.

"Don't cry, Honest John. I'm okay here. She just calls me back. She's very needy you know."

"Who is?" the theif asked gently. "Who is it that calls you, Doll?

Ra'Jirra smiled. "Wouldn't YOU like to know! Sorry, old man. She's all mine!"

Then another voice spoke, odd and smooth. The words startled the mad khajiit and she focussed on the source. An Argonian stood behind the theif. She looked vaguely familiar.

"Katia Managan," it said.

"You can't have her!" the mad khajiit cried, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it to herself.

"Doll, listen to me," Honest John said, his eyes running freely with tears now. "Listen very very carefully. She can wait for a minute. I need you to listen and UNDERSTAND this...."

"NO! You can't have her!!! You're going to take her away from me!"

"Doll," he said. "She's not real. Now, LISTEN. Katia... Managan... Is... Alive!"

Ra'Jirra listened. The words entered her brain and fell into place. The gears turned. The lock opened, and her brain shifted BACK a little.

The Argonian came around and knelt beside the thief. "Ra'Jirra. You didn't kill Katia Managan. She's still alive. She killed that giant imp."

Ra'Jirra closed her eyes. Her lover was gone. No trace of her. She was... free!

She looked back at the two. The priest was standing in the doorway, she noticed now.

"No. You are too cruel. You lie. You're not Honest John!"

"I am, Doll. This is Weedum-Ja. She is..."

"Let me take over, Honest John," the Argonian said gently. "Ra'Jirra, I am S'thengir's lover. I never did buy that story about you robbing him. But something happened that night. I finally wormed it out of him. When I put the pieces together, I realized what had happened. Ra'Jirra, the Shopkeeper saw her leave. She's alive! Damned if I know where, but you sure as HELL didn't kill anyone!"

"I didn't?"

"No, but not for lack of trying. That was an ass move, locking her in like that. But she killed it. You're guilty of being a giant asshole, but you didn't kill her."

The khajiit looked back to Honest John. He shook his head in agreement. "You didn't kill anyone, Doll. But almost yourself."

She sat up woozily. "I... didn't kill... anyone?!"

She smiled for the first time in a long, long time. "I DIDN'T KILL ANYONE!" she cried to the Priest, who accepted her unexpected hug happily.

Then suddenly she turned back to the thief. "Honest John. I've got to find her. I've got to apologize!"

He nodded, and gestured to the Argonian. "Weedum-Ja will see you back to Kvatch. But Doll... something has happened. Kvatch is burned to the ground."

"What?"

"Long story," Weedum-Ja replied. "But if you want to come back, you're welcome to come with me."

"But... bandits?"

Both Weedum-Ja and Honest John laughed at that.

Honest John explained. "Doll Weedum-Ja here is a Level 20 Pilgrim. She could take out the entire city guard. Us bandits wouldn't go near her. At least, not if we knew who she was!"

"Really?" she asked the Argonian, who bowed in response with a smirk on her face. "I do alright."

"So... she might be dead anyway," Honest John continued.

"I don't care. I'm going to find her," Ra'Jirra declared and stood up. Suddenly she was aware that she was naked.

"You kept taking off the clothes when we put them on," the Priest explained.

"Wait," Weedum-Ja interrupted. "Wait a minute..."

She went out of the room and came back in, rummaging through her own backpack. She drew out some clothes familiar to the khajiit. "My..." she started.

Then Weedum-Ja handed her the spear she'd carried for so long. Ra'Jirra took it and fell to her knees. It was like an old friend, comfortable to her hands.

She dressed and was on her way in an instant. The three had to overnight along the trail as the day was waning fast, but with the Argonian with them, they had no problem with bandits or anything else that night.

"Just one thing," Weedum-Ja said as they settled into their beds for the night around the campfire.

"What's that?" Ra'Jirra asked.

"If I ever see you within ten FEET of S'thengir, I WILL kill you. Instantly and with no regret."

Ra'Jirra laughed. "Fair enough! We women have to understand each other. Just give him my thanks."

"Fuck. You should want to punch him. If he'd have told me the truth sooner, none of this would have had to happen. He's an asshole. But he's my asshole."

"Good point," Ra'Jirra conceeded. "I take back my thanks. Fuck him in the ass for me instead."

"I will!"

Then she went to sleep. Her sleep was not peaceful though. In it, she saw a vision of Katia Managan wearing an outfit she'd never seen before. But she was no longer burnt and horrible. She was just the normal weird khajiit she had met before. The apparition walked up slowly to her, and she fell to her knees. "I'm so sorry, Katia. I was a coward. I didn't think! I'm SOOOO sorry!"

"Rise, bitch," said the apparition.

She stood up.

"You've paid for your crime. Almost," said Katia Managan.

"Almost?"

The apparition pulled back it's hand and let it fly at full speed into Ra'Jirra's cheek. The blow sent her to the ground and stung like hell.

"There. Quest fulfilled. See you later, Ra'Jirra!" it said, and suddenly her dream was gone. She awoke with a decent bruise on her cheek. And she smiled. She deserved that.