Wild Souls (A Skyrim Romance Bishop/OC Fanfiction)

18: Blood on the Ice

I knew as soon as she came into the inn. That was the face I needed; that was the skin. It was flawless. I hadn't considered an Imperial's skin until now, but it makes so much sense. Wood Elf is too coarse, Nord too hard, Breton too soft. But as I watch her here in the inn, I just know that skin is what I'm looking for. I sit here, watching it stretch and give with the perfect elasticity.

I don't think she sees me. The room is crowded, and she's preoccupied with the new bard. Alex, or Alec, or something. Whatever. He doesn't matter. She's going downstairs; I'll have to be careful to ensure I remain unseen.

.

She's staying at the inn tonight. Perfect. Now that I know I'll have the skin, I can begin with the rest of the body. Her arrival was the sign I needed, the sign that it is time.

My only worry is that she has a dog staying in her room. I am quiet; I can sneak past it. It's only a runt, after all. I'll wait a few hours before sneaking in the back door.

.

A thousand curses! I missed my chance twice! The woman's lover chased me down the first time and nearly caught me. I had to use my precious magicka stores to escape. I didn't want to expend any energy; I must save it for the ritual.

The second time, the girl had come into the Cornerclub and introduced herself as Alessia. After distracting her, I was able to slip a special mixture into her drink. I've become quite skilled in the art of alchemy, my darling. Unfortunately, after she passed out, that damnable ranger managed to find me again at the very worst time. I needed to use more magic to disappear. If this Alessia girl wasn't so perfect for the ritual, I'd give up and find a different one. No matter. I'll find another way. I must, if I am to see you again.

.

I swallowed, though I could not get rid of the lump in my throat. This sick villain was talking about me. Nevertheless, I couldn't quit reading regardless of the fear gripping my heart like demonic claws.

.

I see another one, too. Isabella, if I'm not mistaken. She stretched to retrieve a fallen basket for that little girl, the homeless one by the docks. Ligaments... yes. Isabella's ligaments will be perfect.

.

Isabella was somewhat easy. A day of watching showed that she takes walks through the Gray Quarters. Nords rarely go down the pathway, and the Dark Elves keep to themselves at night. I slit her throat and she made not a sound. I was right; her ligaments were just what I was looking for.

.

I ran into Friga Shatter-Shield. I patted her arm in greeting, and though she seemed confused, it confirmed the coincidental meeting was a serendipitous one. Her arm was perfectly firm. She has the flesh I want. The meat, the muscles. Perfect.

.

Friga is dead. She came into my store again late at night, and the timing was just right. She never saw it coming, and I was right about the flesh. It's perfect. Perfect, perfect. I need it all to be perfect. Her sinew wasn't right, though. Neither was her bone marrow. This is proving to be more difficult than I'd anticipated.

I discovered that her home, Hjerim, is the perfect hideaway. I think I'll keep my experiments there. Better than someone accidentally stumbling onto them in my own home.

.

I've had my eye on Fjotli for nearly a week, and I got the perfect chance to inspect her when she tripped in the marketplace and bled. The way that crimson stained the snow nearly had me crying in delight. I need her for blood. That perfect, perfect blood. I'll watch her for a while longer to see her schedule.