Makings of a Monster

- "Wow. If someone had told me few years ago that I'm contemplating the murder of my husband with my lover, I... wouldn't have believed it, to put it mildly." Jelena looked a bit dazed.
- "I suppose. But if anyone deserves it, it's him. For what he has done to Sarevok, and to you," answered Winski.
- "He has left me alone since... that. But it unnerves me. Sometimes he looks at me like he knows something I don't, and gloats over it. And naturally he goes to the whores. I bet that's where he is at moment."
- "And took poor Sarevok with him. As if the boy isn't properly messed up already," sighed Winski.
Jelena nodded and was quiet for a moment.

- "Murdering people is bad. Even Reiltar. But the way I see it, we can't escape him and let him live at the same time. Or could we?"
- "Jelena. I have killed many people. Reiltar won't make any difference to my conscience. And no, we even couldn't escape him. Imagine his rage, his property up and gone. And all the Throne forces at his disposal. No, he has to die. And it is a promise. It is a promise that has made it possible for Sarevok to take all those beatings without losing his spirit."
Jelena nodded gravely. The cold-bloodedness of it all chilled her. Still, she did hate the bastard. The idea of him dead made her feel certain exhilaration. And the freedom then... as a widow she could travel someplace else entirely and discreetly join with Winski and Sarevok, figure out what to do with that Bhaal blood...

- "When and how then?" she asked.
- "That is a good question. I always used to think that we'd wait until Sarevok has enough personal power at the Throne, but I'm not sure about that any more. Do we WANT anything to do with that organisation?"
- "Well, I know I don't." Her mouth was a tight line.
- "We will have to make a damn good plan. They will investigate it very thoroughly. He is one big and healthy bastard, he doesn't just up and die naturally."
- "This feels so... evil to me! To even contemplate such thing! And talk about it as coldly as... I don't know, planning a dinner or something!" said the pained Jelena.
- "If you had said so to me before, I'd scorned you and told you that evil is simply a codeword to keep the sheep in their designed area, branded even in their own brain. But you have changed my outlook on such things. But still the fact remains that Reiltar doesn't have such qualms, and he has the power to hurt all of us. You have, and are good and gentle, and you have been trampled all over. Still, I have spent most of my adult life planning illegal activities, even murders like it was nothing, and now I notice that I'm wishing that murdering Reiltar would be the last truly reprehensible thing I do."
- "You are lost, Winski..." said Jelena, eyes gentle.
- "That I am. But it feels good in a way," replied Winski. He envied Jelena, to whom such things seemed to be so obvious. What was right and what was wrong, what was important and what was not. And it seemed to him that the more he thought about things, and he had always been in a habit of thinking a lot, the more the answers eluded him.

They heard the door banging unexpectedly early. Hastily they got dressed and checked each other as to look proper. When they descended the stairs, at slightly different time intervals, they noticed it was just Sarevok and relaxed a little. But the boy was soaking wet and his knuckles were raw, bloody mess. His expression was tight with repressed anger and repulsion.
- "Sarevok? Have you been in a fight?" asked Winski.
- "No. I just... banged a wall with my fists," answered Sarevok and blushed. Winski almost had to hide a smile.
- "And judging by that I presume you were upset about something?"
- "He took me to..." Sarevok took a look at his mother, stopped and looked really suffering and hesitating.
- "He took you to a whorehouse," said Jelena in a matter-of-fact tone. She noticed that Sarevok was uncomfortable talking about it in her company so she briskly exclaimed: "Well! Since you had this... idea of banging the wall I'd better go and get my healing gear for your hands. Go into the kitchen and wait!"

The men entered the kitchen.
- "I escaped from there," explained Sarevok. The choice of word amused Winski, but not the situation.
- "You didn't like it then," he said.
- "It was disgusting! It smelled bad there. And SHE was disgusting. All dead eyes, and the tongue... I didn't want her to touch me so I ran away. It wasn't any better than..."
- "I know," interrupted Winski. "See, those women do it for money. With many, many men, many of whom are not very nice. It is bound to be like that. I'm sorry this had to happen."
- "But WHEN is it going to be like you said? Beautiful, and feel good, and so that you really like the woman! When!" He was angry.
- "I don't know. That is a thing no-one ever knows. You have a tendency to impatience. Of course, I understand that all you have ever experienced is this ugliness, and you only have my word that it doesn't have to be like that."
The sullen boy nodded.

Jelena entered and started to take care of Sarevok's knuckles. They were all quiet, in their thoughts.