Archive of Our Own

The sun was slowly peeking up from the horizon, her early morning rays illuminating eddies in the mist. Maujah pulled her hands into the sleeves of her sweater, and she couldn’t help but to admire the way that the mist seemed to be made of rainbows. Her breath puffed in front of her as she walked, leaf litter crunching under her feet.

“Kajrad? Zilk?” Maujah called, stepping over a log. In her peripherals, the mist shifted as if someone was there, a mix of light purple and grey smoke appearing. She continued warily, all of her focus on the swirling spot, and almost walked into a tree. She swerved at the last second, plunging her hand into the fog and grabbing what felt like a wrist. She pulled the stranger out of the mist, but their form still appeared to be made of smoke.

“Zilkirasi,” Maujah said with a sigh.

The smolaki grinned sheepishly. “Hiiiiiii Maaauuujaaaah.”

Maujah decided not to dignify that with a response. “Kajrad?” she called.

“Here.” The golsko melted out of the mist. He was a pile of orange goo with organs spinning around in it, though strangely there was a sunny yellow and extra set of organs mixed in. The orange goo appeared to fall upward, forming the shape of a person. The smaller pile of yellow goo did the same, forming a decent toddler shape - if you squinted.

“Sorry,” Kajrad continued, “I couldn’t find a babysitter. This is my goopling, Karlia.”

“You brought your child?” Honestly, Maujah was starting to believe she needed to go over proper workplace procedure again.

“Maujah, it’s not as if we’re doing anything dangerous today. We’re just sitting in a forest.”

Maujah sighed. Time to cut to the chase. “Kaj, where’s the body?”

“Wonderfully to the point, as always. It’s in the tree.” He made a vague gesture towards a nearby copse of trees. The fog made it hard to see, but Maujah thought she could make out a body draped over a branch.

Zilk perked up. “There’s a corpse in the copse?” Maujah sighed, bringing her hand up to pinch her nose.

“Mauj, you’ve really gotta stop doing that. It’s the third time you’ve sighed in like two minu-”

“Zilkirasi,” Maujah scolded. She then fixed Zilk with a stern glare, and the smolaki wisely shut up. At some point Zilk had picked up Karlia, and the goopling was trying to grab her bun. She wasn’t having much success, as every time her vaguely hand-shaped limbs touched the bun, they phased through the smoke. The goopling made a vaguely sad sound. “Kajrad, shake the branch to get the corpse down. And whatever you do, do-” she was forced to cut off as Kajrad interrupted.

“Don’t touch the body, I know. You say this every time.” He melted again, the strange slime flowing up the tree.

“It’s just as important every time. If you touch it I won’t be able to see .” Maujah put emphasis on the last word. She noticed Zilk attempting to dance with Karlia in her peripherals, but ignored it.

“Maybe you should stop putting your glasses on corpses then.” Zilk’s words were accompanied by rustling sounds from the tree Kajrad was climbing.

“Oh, you know what I mean,” Maujah responded, feigning annoyance. More rustling. Then, a loud thump. Maujah winced at the sound, while Kajrad slid back down. He reformed as a human and apologized for the rough landing.

“He’s dead anyway. It’s not like he’ll care.” This time, it was Kajrad who glared at Zilk for the comment. “Sorry,” she said quietly.

Maujah knelt down reverently next to the corpse. It was a dyadian, and had short green and yellow hair. It also had a slit in its throat. She took a breath to center herself, and placed her hand over the cut.

Suddenly she saw from different eyes. Maujah caught a glimpse of hair startlingly similar to her own, only slightly cooler. It was coming from above, but she couldn’t maneuver her head to see more.  Xifit - the corpse’s name, she remembered - kicked out desperately, but to no avail. She felt something startlingly cold slide across her throat, and her eyes shot open with a gasp. Maujah’s bloodied hands flew to her throat as if to reassure herself that it was intact.

“Now you look like the one who had their throat slit!” Zilk gave her a rag to wipe off the blood that was now on her throat. “Anyways, did you see how it ended up in a tree?” Zilk asked.

“Unfortunately, that remains a mystery,” Maujah responded with a sigh, taking the rag gratefully. “I did, however, see what I presume to be the killer’s hair. It was red like mine, though a bit cooler. The killer also felt experienced, so maybe an assassin.”

Zilk gave a thumbs up and jotted something down on a notepad she had procured. “Is that all?”

“Yup. Kaj, can you take care of the body?” Kajrad nodded, and put Karlia down on a log, having apparently acquired his child while Maujah was busy. “Zilk, how quickly can you get the research done?”

“Well, considering that I have like two pieces of evidence, probably a while. Who knows though, I might get lucky! I’ll poke around the government to see if they have any info on assassins.”

“Alright, we’ll meet up at five for dinner at Jallo’s.” 

Zilkirasi began to pepper the silence with gossip she had heard, not content to let Kajrad work quietly. “Apparently there’s gonna be a test of something soon! I heard that it’ll make prisoners behave better.”

“Oh! There’s a new season of Enacra out! You two should really watch it.” Karlia let out a babble at that, and Maujah sighed.

“Zilk?” Kajrad asked.

“Mm?”

“Shut up.”

-+=+=+-

“So,” Maujah started, watching as Zilk stuffed fries in her mouth, “Any leads?” 

A few seconds passed before Zilk responded, as she had to swallow said fries. “Any Kajrad? I’ll start when he’s here.”

“So you found something?” Kajrad’s voice caused Zilk to startle, though Maujah just smiled. He slid into the booth, thankfully not literally, still carrying Karlia.

“Still no babysitter?” Zilk asked, but she barreled on without waiting for an answer. “Unfortunately, no. That’s not especially surprising considering that I only had two pieces of evidence-”

“It’s not like I can control what I see,” Maujah grumbled, passing a basket of fries to Kajrad.

“I know. Anyways, I only had two pieces of evidence once I ID’d the knife. I was wondering if we could go to - what was his name, Xiti?” Zilk was talking so fast it was a wonder she hadn’t tripped over her words.

“Xift,” Maujah corrected.

“Right. I was wondering if we could go to Xifit’s old house - I think they really liked the woods, considering it’s a cabin there. We could probably go today, it’s about half an hour from here.” Zilk's form fuzzed, as it usually did when she was excited, somewhat exposing her glowing organs. She took a breath and the smoke coalesced back into a person-like shape.

“That should be doable. However, we are waiting until after we have eaten, seeing as I have not had any food since lunch.” Kajrad grabbed a milkshake from the center of the table.

“Cheers to that.” Maujah also grabbed a milkshake, and tapped it against Kajrad’s. Karlia made a sad sound, and Kajrad poured a bit into a cup to give to her.

-+=+=+-

“Spooky place,” Zilk muttered. The cabin was not actually that spooky, Maujah thought. The sky was a light seafoam green, the way it always was before sunset. Granted, the fog from earlier hadn’t dissipated, which gave an eerie feeling to the place. 

“I checked the floor plans, and there’s a back garden. I think it would be a good idea to start there, and then make our way in,” Kajrad said. He was currently - no, that couldn’t be right. He was stuffing his child in a bucket!? Maujah raised an eyebrow at that, which Kajrad clearly noticed. “Keeps her from running off,” he explained, stuffing a lid over it. “These are specially designed. It’s fine.”

Zilk just blinked. “Ooo-kay then.” The detectives made their way around the cabin to the garden. It appeared to be growing a mix of tomatoes, squash, strawberries, and some root vegetables that Maujah couldn’t place. Zilkirasi was kneeling down when some of the plants crunched, and everyone spun around to the source of the sound.

There was a person standing there. She was wearing a black bodysuit, with two knives and a strange tube on her belt. She had hair that came down to her shoulders that… was a cool magenta color. “Osik,” Maujah breathed. Zilk and Kajrad appeared to catch on to the fact that this was indeed their mysterious assassin.

“You’re trespassing,” The assassin said, glaring at them. There was a patch of some sort over her heart, but Maujah wasn’t close enough to see the details. It looked vaguely familiar, however.

“Well, so are you,” Zilk said indignantly.

“I have permission from the government.” The assassin’s voice was cold, but not necessarily smooth. Ah, so that’s what the patch was. Why exactly was the government hiring assassins? Suddenly, she pulled a knife and lunged at Zilk, who managed to move before the knife cut anything vital. Even then, it still sliced through her arm. It reformed a second later, but it couldn’t have been a pleasant sensation. 

The assassin kept attacking Zilk, missing anything vital every time, while Maujah and Kajrad stood there awkwardly. Neither of them were armed, so it would be a bad idea to get involved. “Can you make sure the assassin stays distracted for a bit?” Kajrad whispered in Maujah’s ear. She nodded.

 “Hey, don’t you think it’s kinda rude to attack someone without introducing yourself?” Zilk asked, grunting as she narrowly avoided a knife to the head. “I can go first if you want! I’m Zilkirasi, that’s Maujah, and that’s-” she paused, noticing that Kajrad was gone, “a carrot!” she finished, pointing at the ground. Maujah amended her earlier assessment. The garden appeared to be growing a mix of tomatoes, squash, strawberries, and some carrots. The assassin growled and ducked back to disappear in the fog. “Well that hit a nerve.” Zilk muttered, pushing herself off the ground.

“Of course it did, darling. You’ve never had to deal with your parents naming you an absolute travesty of name! They named me Gertrude. Shabuir’la Gertrude ! So I went to get it changed, but the government would only let me do that if I did stuff for them. So here I am!” The assassin - no, Gertrude proclaimed from the fog. “Even then, they only let me change one letter after a successful mission. So now I’m stuck with the absolute beauty of a name, Gertry.” She says this a bit quieter, laced with heavy sarcasm. 

“Y’know, she only asked for your name, not your life story,” Maujah mumbled. Gertrude lunged out of the mists towards Maujah, this time holding that strange tube. Maujah threw herself into a roll with a yelp, then kicked out in an attempt to trip the assassin. She only succeeded in knocking herself supine, and now Gertrude was looming over her.  Maujah saw Kajrad from behind the assassin with a hatchet in his hand. Gertrude spun around and kicked him in the stomach, only for her foot to get stuck in the goop.

The assassin lunged with a knife for where Kajrad’s heart should be, and he had to liquify to get away. Gertrude grabbed his hatchet and threw it at Zilk, who had been attempting to sneak up. Zilk cursed as she ducked. Gertrude took the opportunity to firmly press the tube against Maujah’s thigh, and the tube turned out to be a needle. Maujah tried to struggle against the hold that Gertrude had her in, but failed. She could feel her heart beating wildly as she wondered what the shab that was. Then everything just… stopped. Not completely, she could still feel her heartbeat, but it felt strangely muffled, as if Maujah was drowning. She was vaguely aware of Gertrude releasing her, but something still felt viscerally wrong as she pushed herself up. It felt like she was a passenger in her own body. She merely watched as Gertrude gave Maujah one of her knives, and Maujah’s hands moved to accept it of their own accord. She noticed Zilk and Kaj watching in horror, and she felt like joining them.

Maujah had a sinking feeling that this was the new control method Zilk was talking about. Maujah turned toward Zilkirasi and Kajrad, her grip on the knife tightening. She tried to loosen her grip, to drop the knives, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t see Gertrude, but she knew the shabiir had an insane smile on her face.

“Mauj?” Zilk asked. Her voice and eyes were full of concern, and Maujah could feel that heavy ache settle into her heart, because she knew what’s going to happen, and Zilk should move, she should run, and Maujah should be better than this, she should be able to resist, she should be capable of not hurting her friends, she couldn’t bear the thought of them being hurt, and that very same thought of her being the one to hurt them makes her sick inside. 

Maujah’s body ran forward and sliced the knife towards Zilk’s brain stem. Every fiber of herself was screaming for her to stop, and she could almost feel it reverberating in her bones. Maujah corralled all of the useless thoughts, and just willed herself to stop with everything she could. To her shock, it actually worked, but only for a second. Zilk’s eyes widened slightly in shock, but she didn’t move as Gertrude’s knife - because she had to think like that, she couldn’t acknowledge that the assassin had given the knife to her, and that it was her hand that was holding it - severed her brain stem, killing her.

The smoke that had made up her body poofed outward, mixing with the fog while her organs dropped to the ground, losing their light blue glow. The desire to scream returned with such force that it overcame the control, and a raw, ragged, and utterly broken sound tore itself from Maujah’s throat. Her body whipped around to face Kajrad, who had retreated to the wooden deck. She caught a glimpse of Gertrude in the peripherals in the eyes that are hers, but not hers . The assassin looked perfectly composed, her arms tucked behind her back and a small smile on her face, as if she were watching a play. Well, maybe perfectly composed was an overstatement, Maujah thought, seeing how the small smile was morphing into an undoubtedly more terrifying grin.

Kajrad, thankfully, seemed less intent on staying still. He flowed towards Maujah, encapsulating her and making it impossible to move. Despite that, Maujah’s body managed to twist with an inhuman strength, her Gertrude’s knife glancing across his lungs, opening one of them. He hissed, or maybe it was the air escaping his lung, drawing back, but moving more sluggish than usual. Maujah dove after him, barely missing his heart. He retreated under a table, slightly rattling the matches and lantern on top. To her surprise, she dropped her knife, she was using it, it was hers, she had killed Zilk, she had killed her friend! the assassin’s knife. She watched as her hands grabbed for the matches, she watched as she lit one, she watched as she put the matchbox down, and she watched as she her body because it wasn’t really her anymore, was it? picked up Gertrude’s knife. Kajrad had taken the moment to slide further away, but Maujah just stepped forward, with a flaming match in one hand, and a gleaming knife in the other.

She Her body stepped forward to hover over Kajrad, and let go of the match. He caught fire quickly, but extinguished just as fast. Gertrude tsked at this. “You just had to make this difficult, didn’t you, dear?” She looked at Maujah. “Go on,” she said, a smile evident in her voice. Her bodyMaujah it was still her, after all, mind control be damned reached forward to grab his heart. She ripped it out and held it in her hand for a moment, marveling at how it was still beating but it wasn’t her that was marveling at that, was it? She would never. She   -no, her other hand     no, that’s still wrong She pressed her knife into the heart, observing how it squished slightly before giving way to the sharp edge. Maujah felt her face morph into a smile smiled, not even noticing that she had accidentally cut herself.

“I think that’s quite enough proof that the serum works. Don’t you agree, my darling?” Gertrude asked, her breath disturbing the fog next to Maujah’s ear. “Unfortunately, your success means that I don’t have a use for you anymore.” She brought the flat of the knife she kept against Maujah’s cheek. Maujah shuddered, the cold metal disrupting whatever haze had descended on her mind. Her fingers went limp, the two halves of Kajrad’s heart tumbling out of them as she watched in horror.

“What- what did you do to me?” Maujah’s voice didn’t feel right, despite the fact that it was wholly hers. Her voice shouldn’t sound so hoarse, so tired, so sad, so broken . 

“Luckily, you don’t have to know!” The assassin leaned forward, switching to a whisper. “Goodnight, my dearest.” Maujah felt something startlingly cold slide across her throat. She gasped as her hands flew up to her throat to check if it was intact, only for her to discover that it wasn’t . Gertrude stepped away and Maujah slumped to the ground. As Maujah lay dying, she tried to convince herself that her friends’ deaths weren’t her fault. She was under mind control after all, she couldn’t help it. It couldn’t be her fault. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself. “ Well,” Maujah thought, “ I won’t be doing much living soon .”

But the pain, oh the pain was all hers. And Ka’ra , did it hurt. The pain of the slit on her throat, the pain of the gash on her hand, the pain of knowing she had just killed her friends she didn’t kill them  but it was her body?  She didn’t kill them burned through her body. She tried to take a breath, but ended up inhaling blood and coughing, which sapped her already waning strength. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, she clung to the last bits of her life. However, as she died, Maujah couldn’t help but to admire the way the sunset set the mists ablaze.

-+=+=-

Gertrude watched as the lead detective died. The deck greedily lapped up the blood flowing from her throat, the untreated wood boards getting stained an unholy shade of red. She retrieved her other knife and made her way out of the yard, congratulating herself on a job well done. She knew she should probably clean up the mess, or at least get someone else to, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. “ The sunset truly is quite beautiful today, isn’t it,” she thought. She was so wrapped up in the sight that she stubbed her toe on a bucket, which she promptly swore and glared at. What she wasn’t expecting, however, was for the bucket to let out a high pitched wail. Gertrude cautiously opened the lid, only to find a sunny yellow golaski kid.

“Dada?” The glob burbles.

“Do I look like-!?” Gertrude cut herself off. She wasn’t doing this today. She couldn’t. But the blob was strangely cute. The blob was making grabby hands at her. Shab bic. Gertrude carefully screwed the lid back on, kid still inside. She picked the bucket up. It would be just immoral to leave a kid all alone, wouldn’t it?

-+=+=+-

Gertrude looked satisfactorily at the papers. It had taken a couple months, but the changes had finally gone through. A small smile appeared on her face as she read her new name. Gerory . “I mean don’t get me wrong, it’s still a terrible name, but it’s still better than Gertry,” she said aloud.

“ Anything is better than Gertry,” Karlia said, making a sour face.

“Ain’t that right.” Gertrude glanced at her completely legally acquired and adopted kid, just in time to see the goopling nod with an air of self-importance.