Leashed

Chapter 11

It wasn’t madness nor was it morally wrong. It was simply retribution. At least, that’s what he thought. Nothing was wrong with murdering the men who r***d his sister.

She was timid and cute when he first met her back in 2009. She was also as pale and as delicate as snow that melts in a warm palm. She was 13 and he was 14, and it was, at that point, where she was introduced to them as his half-sister. His mother was upset when she learned that his father has an illegitimate child with a whilom p********e, but he didn’t mind at all. It was startling to him, but what he was more concerned of was her appearance. She was malnourished, bruised all over, and she smelled; her mother apparently had not taught her about proper hygiene. Her name is “Diana” and it was the only good thing she gave her.

“Well, Roldan, I’m not feeding this good-for-nothing alright. I have no money left. No man wants to bed a w***e like me in her late fifties anymore. It was your d**k that impregnated me anyway.” The name of the woman is “Korina” and she put in the effort of looking her version of presentable with that inappropriate violet eye shadow and too much red lips.

Diana was very ashamed getting caught in the confusing situation that she softly implored her mother to go back to their rundown apartment, carefully avoiding the eyes of her supposed half-brother.

His father was naturally diffident, but he was irked. “Are you sure she’s my child? With the several guys whom you were with, how come you’re so sure that I’m her father?”

Diana decided to interpolate while looking down on her feet. “We’re—we’re very sorry, sir, ma’am. We will leave now.”

“Shut up, you rat!” Korina snapped at her then to her alleged father. “It’s just my guess, but she’s really yours!”

The two teenagers then found the chance to gaze at each other’s eyes. Their parents’ bickering seemed to have dissolved in the background. They were alone in a world where they realized how mystifying their first meeting was. Weeks later, a DNA test proved that they are biologically related.

It was natural that his mother wouldn’t be welcoming of Diana, and his father didn’t want to accept her into the family. It was only him who did. She was frail, and there wasn’t anyone who would want to nurse her back to betterment. She was also naïve—the type who would believe what anyone would say would be good for her. He had enough of her helplessness that he took it upon himself to be the perfect big brother. He helped her in dealing with her fears, with her studies, and with establishing a connection with his mother and their father. It was a long process, but he succeeded in helping her become a sociable and functional individual.

Seven years later, however, a day before her 20th birthday, she was forcibly taken by a group of college sophomores. Her family found her the following day, traumatized and dirtied. It took her a while to detail what happened. Tearful, she recalled how four guys repetitively violated her. One of her rapists was Peter Bueno, the son of a senator known as the principal sponsor of the bill to strengthen the Anti-r**e Law of the Philippines on that same year.

How ironic.

The case was taken to the higher court but the defendants were acquitted since the judge in-charge vindicated that the prosecution miserably failed to present a clear story of what transpired and that whether the victim’s story was true or not. The defendants claimed that she had consented to the s*x, and that she wasn’t forced. It was also apparent that the senator had influenced the verdict passed. The suspects were cleared off the case, and Diana was made to suffer from utter shame. This was why when her half-brother came to check on her, a few days after the court’s decision, she was suspended from the ceiling of her bedroom, a rope tight around her neck; she was swaying gently and dead.

Months afterward, horrendous news shocked the entire Philippines. It was about the murder of three of the erstwhile r**e suspects. Not only were their carotid arteries precisely cut, but their manhoods were also horridly severed. The police were perplexed as to who with such extreme finesse and absolute hatred would do this. Several days later, they found out.

Panicking and breathing hard, he staggered and did his earnest to run. His clobbered body felt heavy. The blood streaming from his forehead was obstructing his vision. The parking lot of his university was dark. No one could help him—not even his statesman father—no matter how much he yelled. His friends were dead, and it was tremendously erroneous of him to have been complacent about the possibility that he may be the next target of the man who held a grudge on them. His bodyguard was incapacitated after being elbowed to the face. He had no one else but himself to be salvaged from his attacker. Whoever he was, he certainly preferred torture. After bashing his head and delivering tyrannical blows to his gut, he told him to try to get away.

The attacker pulled out a knife—this was the very knife which he used to murder the friends of his prey tonight. Like a patient predator, he waited and walked slowly after him. His face was grim, yet he was smiling.

“Help! Somebody!” Peter Bueno desperately shouted as he bumped against a car’s trunk and stumbled on the ground.

Then finding the courage to defend himself, he got up and launched a blow on his attacker, but his wrist was slashed in an instant and he got kicked back down.

“Aaack! Aaack!” He bawled as his abdomen was mercilessly stomped on.

From that angle, he finally recognized his attacker; it was none other than Diana’s half-brother. In the midst of getting beaten, it was not surprising anymore that he would seek revenge, but what was terrifying was his madness towards what happened to his sibling. He was hell-bent on killing him.

A goner he could have been as his attacker grabbed his hair, and he was to bury the knife on his neck. Suddenly, the lights around them were switched on.

“Freeze! Put away your weapon!” The police were there, and they both didn’t expect it.

“O————, we’ve been onto you ever since the start of your murders. Don’t think that you can get away with this now!” The detective with the megaphone said. “Leave Peter Bueno alone, and surrender yourself.”

He scanned the police’s faces and grinned at them. He proceeded to finish what he decided to commit, but a bullet struck his arm, and his weapon was sent flying away.

The court later convicted him of triple murder and attempted murder and sentenced him reclusion perpetua—a maximum of 40 years in jail; nonetheless, even behind bars, he was resolute in avenging Diana. There wasn’t a day he could calm down especially with the thought of failing to put six feet under the ground the last one alive of her rapists, and with the Buenos paying people inside to kill him. Wherefore, in his fifth year being imprisoned, he escaped. He escaped not because his life was threatened but because he had to kill one last time.

That was a year ago today. He had come a long way to stay hidden from the authorities and now, he has finally located Peter Bueno.

It was the night before Christmas, and the senator’s son had to be in Carcar to celebrate the occasion with his friends in an exclusive resort. He surely heard of his escape from prison, but it looked like he wasn’t alarmed with this. Either he was underestimating the range of what he can do or that he had utter confidence with the bodyguards always tailing him.

Keenly, he waited for an opening—a juncture when the brat could be alone. It was then when he saw that he waved off his insistent bodyguards in order to address his call of nature in the bathroom.

In the middle of washing his hands, a hand snaked on the back of his head and smashed his forehead on the mirror. Peter Bueno was delirious as he tried to make out who assailed him from behind. He was wearing a mask but his eyes were very familiar. These were the same eyes which glared at him five years before and haunted him in his sleep.

“O————. f**k!” He then quickly reached out for his gun but was stopped with a painful tromp on his manhood. “Aaaaahhh! f**k you!”

He slugged his face and temporarily quieted him, then snatched the gun inserted on his hip and tossed it to a nearby urinal. Coincidentally, Bueno’s bodyguards came and saw through the open door the situation. They pulled out their guns and aimed at their young boss’ attacker.

Before they could pull the trigger, one already had a knife buried between his brows; he was already dead as he fell to the ground. Horrified, the other bodyguard fired and fired until the magazine was empty of bullets. The gunshots were inaudible against the blasts of fireworks illuminating the night sky; it was officially Christmas day. Unfortunately, he won’t be able to enjoy it.

The attacker’s movements were swift like the one watching was in the illusion of looking at afterimages. Seconds flat, he was already behind him. His other hand gripped his neck and the other repetitiously stabbed another knife on his temple.

Peter Bueno awoke oblivious of the somber deaths of his henchmen but he was able to catch yet again the most hideous grin he’ll be taking with him to hell.

On this grim Christmas, the scream of an unfortunate man could not be heard as it was overwhelmed with the sightly explosions that decorated the darkness that hovered over Carcar.

Neoma had to go out of the house since the candle had completely died out. It was quite a while before the fireworks display subsided; now, it was quiet—too quiet that she started to be conscious of her surroundings. The crickets’ chirping got louder. The slaps of the wind on the trees’ leaves disturbed her. She was, after all, all alone and slightly envious of the glow of the houses in the distance before her. Christmas in the Belmonte Mansion wouldn’t make much of a difference though. She’d also be alone; her father wouldn’t even have Noche Buena with her. He’d usually be in the company of some woman. And her mother is happily spending the occasion with her other family. Then again, she refused to accept that this made her sad. Even alone, even without her dog, Sol, she’d come back stronger and thrive.

Ksssshk! Ksssshk! Ksssshk! Ksssshk!

She was pulled out from her thoughts when the sound of seemingly hastening footsteps was approaching. She immediately hid herself inside the house.

Ksssshk! Ksssshk! Ksssshk! Ksssshk!

She spotted a hole underneath the window jam next to her and carefully peeped through it. She gasped. It was a faint light, but it shone on the blood-stained hands of the figure walking near.

Her instinct told her to arm herself when she heard the person enter the house—now with just a wall between them. She had a strong hunch that this was the stranger who saved her, but for some reason, she sensed the danger associated with him. She found a rock and held it firmly—raising it, preparing to attack if compromised. She clenched her teeth. She didn’t want to sell herself out by making any sound, but her heartbeat was deafening; she was afraid this person might hear it.

She held her breath as she felt him edge closer and closer.

Bwaaaaaack! Aaack! Bwaaaaaack! It was then the only thing she heard.

Neoma eased up a bit and decided to check what was going on with him. She was stupefied to see his hand was on the wall while he was emptying the contents of his stomach. She still couldn’t have a vivid view of his face, yet she could hear that he was somehow wheezing.

“What’s wrong?” She managed to ask.

He leaned his forehead on the wall. “I’m fine. Don’t think too much about this.”

She couldn’t help but think otherwise, particularly with the blood on his hands.

“I have to sleep this off, so please don’t bother me.” He then carefully felt his way towards his makeshift bed just as he memorized it by being used to the darkness.

Neoma put on a cautious expression on her face as she observed the stranger with him who did not overlook wearing his mask even when he was going to sleep. The flashlight served to replace the dead candle, and she could now see him sweating and still uncomfortable. He kept wheezing to the point that it was disturbing to her ears. Having enough of it, she decided to tend to him—at least to wipe off his sweat.

Anyhow, she was somewhat amused about what a pair they make on this day: a woman running away from a lot and an unnamed man with a lot of secrets together during Christmas. They’re a fateful match indeed.

Moments later, she heard him snore lightly; he was already asleep. With this opportunity, a lot of things came to her mind but the first one that occurred to her was his face behind the mask. Slowly, she reached for his ears to unclasp the mask. Somehow, this was making her nervous. He had calmed down yet his face seemed to gather all the troubles of the world, and he was, to her, fascinating.

A noise on one corner made her direct the flashlight there. She saw not only a rat but also a huge black backpack. She proceeded to rummage inside it and finally found his wallet. There were a few peso bills and a passport-size picture of a young girl who resembles him. There was the name “Diana” italicized on the bottom right of the picture.

His girlfriend, perhaps? She thought.

Then, inside one pocket of his wallet was an identification card.

“Owel Balasik,” she read. She wondered where and when she had heard this name.

Just before the brink of sunrise, he awoke from just over a few hours of sleeping. He is always the light sleeper and his body clock has long conditioned him to be this way. Being in prison was one stimulus; he could never be too nonchalant with the many hands who wanted to grapple him in his bed. His current condition can’t be the same, yet he still can’t be at ease, not after killing someone again after a long time. He had finished what he sought out to do for many years; on the contrary, he didn’t feel fully satisfied. He even felt queasy. For him, what he did was right; he did it for Diana—for the woman he loves.

Yet again, reality struck him hard. He is a fugitive, and the law is after him; however, he believes that it wasn’t right that he had to be convicted when what he did was just impose justice with a knife. The rapists deserved to die, and he deserves to be liberated.

He sat up on his makeshift bed and later recognized “Carmina” sleeping soundly adjacent to him. He touched his mask, and it was still intact; nevertheless, it didn’t take a genius for him to realize that she already saw his face. He later verified his hunch when he noticed the slight misplacement of the contents of his wallet.

He frowned. This wasn’t good.

It could have been the most tranquil morning of December even with the loud chittering of the sparrows up the trees near the house. The birds were set like an alarm clock, as if in aggregate calling her name to get up. There’s usually nothing wrong with the tranquillity; in fact, she preferred to wake up in this kind of morning. However, it was just too much that it unnerved her. She then quickly searched for her companion inside the house, even getting outside and circling its premises, but he was not there anymore. He had already left.

Her eyes widened; so this was what her unnerving feeling meant. She deleted the probability that he may have just gone out to get something to eat, since all of his few belongings in the house were swept clean too. But then again, she composed herself. So what if he left? It’s not like I need to depend on him. She thought.

She convinced herself that he is nothing to her, and they were never a team from the start. She is alone in her battles. It was good that he left so she could have the house to herself in the meantime.

A gush of wind then hit her along with the affectionate but eerie call of her name.

“Neoma.” The voice came from behind her, and she knew whose it was.

Apprehensive, she turned around. “Ohm.”

He was smirking, and victory was written all over his face.

“I’m guessing that you didn’t come here unarmed and without your minions. All that for just one frail woman,” she started off strong as she scanned her eyes around them.

Men in black suits slowly emerged and surrounded them both to block any of her potential exits.

Ohm laughed, obviously ridiculing her. “Yes, you are frail. You’re someone so weak hiding behind a cloak of counterfeit strength. I wonder how long you can hold on to your illusion of escaping reality.”

“So, are you confirming that you need all of this,” she pertained to his wealth and his men, “Just to catch one weak woman such as myself? Aren’t you weaker that I am? You really can’t do anything by yourself.”

“And you can do things by yourself?” He playfully pointed at her. “Look at yourself! Haha. How many days have you not taken a bath? And have you ever been eating? From the looks of it, you’re on the verge of killing yourself!”

“Seize her!” Two men quickly caught Neoma and forcefully knotted her arms behind her back.

She wriggled her best and scowled at Ohm. “Don’t worry about that because I’m completely sane. You’re the obsessive freak here! Just how in love are you with me? Pathetic! Even chasing after me with all this? For what? Marriage with you? Who are you kidding? I would rather die!”

He then approached her and harshly cupped her face. “My dear sadistic Neoma, you also don’t have to worry. I will not let you die here. I would prefer you die in pleasure when we’re officially married. I will transform you into the most obedient and submitting wife in the world. You will be mine and mine alone.”

He then forced a kiss on her lips, and he wasn’t surprised with tasting his blood after. She was still revolting against him, and that soon will end. He lasciviously licked his wounded lip and chuckled at her.

“Let’s go,” he finally ordered.

When he turned his back on her, however, Neoma rammed the back of her head to the nose of the man holding her. Pandemonium then broke out since she directly bolted towards the forest behind the unfinished house.

“After her, you dimwits!” She heard Ohm shout.

The unfamiliar path she trailed was thorny and dense with different things altogether—tall trees, shrubs, broken branches, and organisms she deemed filthy. All of those she disregarded along with the cuts she gained along the way. Her adrenaline rush was pumping her up to get away. Ohm and his men were closing in.

And just as when she thought she had lost them in the forest when she got out of there, she came to a dead end. A cliff, thirty meters deep, had stopped her.

She looked to her left then to her right; she had nowhere else to go. She went frantic. She couldn’t go back the way she came and also could not go forward. Not shortly after, the ones she was running away from sprang from the mouth of the forest. Ohm grinned at her and even sarcastically applauded her stunt.

“Would you look at that? Haha. Neoma, I’m sorry, but it looks like even fate favors me.”

She didn’t compose a reply and just angrily looked at him.

He inched closer and closer to her, and she, nearer and nearer to the edge. “Cease this, Neoma; stop being stubborn. You have to come with me.”

“Don’t you dare come near—” was what they heard from her before she screamed at the top of her lungs when she fell off the cliff.

“Aaaaaaahhh!”

“Neoma!”