The Hitman and His Consort

XXXI - Origins

First Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

Not even another hour later and another issue popped up, each one increasing in difficulty level in terms of my understanding of what the problem is exactly.

I looked at Denis with the same confused expression that I had earlier, “Excuse you?’ I asked, hoping he’ll give more verbal context about the issue instead of trying to teach me to communicate with my eyes like what he seems to be f*cking doing.

“Dorian Becking is your father, Valya,” he repeated,

“Oh my God, that explains everything,” I gasped,

“Right?” he breathed out, visibly invested in this.

“F*ck no, I don’t even know the name of my real father and even if it is this ‘Dorian Becking’ d**k, what the hell do you want me to do? Weep in joy?” I snapped, handing the document back to him. So what if he’s my father? What the hell am I going to do with that information?

They abandoned me for a reason. It’d be a shame to dig around now and ruin their hard work. It must be a real job to abandon your child.

Denis sighed and placed the papers on my lap, “Listen, it’s your father that began this project—can you stand? It’s better if you're present in the discussion inside,” he said as he yanked the blankets off of me and helped me put on a white button-up shirt, “You don’t have to button it up,” he noted as he fussed over me like an overbearing mother, slinging my arm over his shoulder as he helped me stand up,

“I got it from here,” I told him once I got on my feet. Walking barefoot with slacks on and an unbuttoned shirt made me feel more pathetic than how I am already. Either way, I managed to walk,

“Careful Valya,”

“Yes, mother,”

“Tch, cheeky prick,”

I walked into the main area to see everyone gathered around as if taking turns to speak in a help group, their heads turned to me once I entered the room like it was a sin, and it was Rodrigo who threw the first look of disapproval in that minute as he sat on the recliner, facing the parallel couches, on one couch was Inka, August, and Madeline and on the other couch sat Arthur. The empty space should be the spot reserved for me and Denis.

The arrangement centered on the coffee table with the previously stolen—acquired documents and files about Mariella Labs’ diabolical history.

“You didn’t have to bring him in here, he’s recuperating,” Inka scolded as she stood up and helped me onto the other couch, I couldn’t even refuse her because if I let her help me she would think that Denis forced me to do this and that would probably piss Denis off.

But yet another surprise, Denis didn’t even bat an eye at me, “But this actually involves him more than anyone else,” Denis argued, pointing at me and Inka shut her eyes as she shook her head,

The new face, August, looked at me and nodded, “I’m a big fan of your father’s work,”

“Makes one of us,” I replied,

Madeline frowned at me, “Do you have a bad relationship with your old man or something?” he asked and even Arthur looked at me at that question.

“I don’t even know him,” I said as I settled on the couch, this is uncomfortable, I should take note to be careful not to get shot in the near future, grunting as I shift on my seat I gave everyone a glance and inhaled to cope with the discomfort, “What is this about?” I asked, why are they suddenly talking about fathers out of the blue?

They turned to August, and so did I, she seems to be the cause of the discussion, she gulped before speaking, “Well, Mr. Becking is the scientist that started project ‘Apex-men’, now renamed ‘Hercules’, his mission is to create a new society of humans with minimal to no physical or psychological inadequacies,” she started,

‘And I’m already f*cking invested. What the hell is with that messed up ideology, I guess now we know who’s side of the family I got ASPD from.’

“His credentials held promise and served as insurance to his leading sponsors and they funded his project,” she followed,

“So my f*cked up father had other f****d up friends with money to help him around,” I repeated with how I understood the situation.

Denis sighed and glared at me to shut up as August nodded at me, “More or less” she agreed and I threw a shrug at Denis, “However, more than friends they were like his employers, they funded him in hopes Mr. Becking would succeed and help the military develop a line of possible superhuman soldiers, but it didn’t happen,” she followed,

‘Gee, I wonder why? Maybe he got bored and abandoned the project as he did with me. Sounds like something a delusional crackhead would do,’

Arthur looked up to meet August's eyes, “Why? I mean, it does sound absurd and impossible but...” she asked, understandable that she’d be curious.

“Well, no one actually knows why, they said he just axed and abandoned the project—“

‘f*cking called it’

“—but it’s said that it’s because he ran away with his family, albeit this is a more infamous rumor, the story goes as Mr. Becking running after his wife and never coming back, they died in a plane crash and there’s even a rumor about the plane crash being induced and it was to kill the couple for trying to escape and putting the investors’ money to waste, it’s said that one of the investors made sure they died,” she finished.

‘…Well, that deliberately got dark,’

Six pairs of eyes darted to me once August concluded the narrative, “Although…the presence of a child was never mentioned in the rumors, or in the official reports, they had no child with them in the plane crash either,” August added,

Denis let out an exasperated sigh as he threw both hands to gesture at me like I'm some grand view, “Of course there won’t be a child there because that child is right here, sitting on this couch with a gunshot on the gut,” he expressed like he was stating the obvious before facing me,

“So, does the child in question have anything to say,” he asked, pertaining to me with hands on his hips,

“… why do you know all of this, Denis? What the hell,” I praised, honestly surprised he knows much more about me than I do myself,

“I asked mom and dad, of course, you never ask them about your real parents,” he answered with a raised brow.

“So you stepped in for me,”

“You could say that,”

“Nosey, prick,” I mumbled, trying to stall the discussion because, in all honesty, this is quite the revelation. I didn’t hold intense grudges against them, or so I think, my childhood’s kind of hazy, but that’s normal, and knowing all of this now won’t change anything.

I took another deep breath, unsure what direction they were heading with this topic, “What are we going to do with this information? What’s the next step? All this reminiscing and presumptions couldn’t be the actual objective,” I announced and got collective frowns as a response.

“That’s it on your side?” Madeline remarked, crossing his arms in disappointment,

“Aren’t you feeling vindictive? They killed your parents,” Inka added in,

“I’m not saying you should rage about in town trying to avenge them but for you to be this neutral...” Rodrigo trailed off,

“Those are your parents!” Denis hissed and I groaned,

Pinching the bridge of my nose, sighing before facing them again, maybe if I speak calm enough that would help to settle their emotions because to me it looks like they’re affected by this news than more I am.

“First off, don’t tell me what to feel, secondly, it’s not my fault they chose to die by themselves, if I could, I would’ve tagged along, then I wouldn’t have to deal with this shi—“

…

Ouch.

The room froze for a minute, even I needed a couple of seconds to process what the hell just happened, my cheek felt hot and a twinge of sharp pain started to settle in. Did Arthur just slap me?

She really did. I stared at her hand that reddened, that must’ve hurt for her too, I looked up to meet her eyes and she had yet another weird and indiscernible expression on her face again, only this one was unpleasant. It made me nervous.

“Arthur, why did you…” Denis began as he shifted his gaze between us,

“I-I’m sorry, I’m… I’m not sure why I did that, I’m really sorry-Uhm, excuse me,” she almost mumbled as she stood up and went to the bathroom,

I turned to look at Rodrigo for help and made a mental note that I should bring this up in our next session because Arthur did a good job of making me feel guilty for doing something that offended her, despite having no clue what the hell that is. Inka sighed as she stood up and followed after her, making me feel less and less to be the victim of this situation.

Madeline huffed as he draped an arm over August’s shoulders, “You’re in the wrong on that one, Frankenstein,” he announced,

“How is that my fault?” I spat back, glancing at the bathroom door, still closed. “Still, what the hell do you want to happen, I’m sure you didn’t pull me out of my bed just to suffer all of this,” I said to Denis, now more annoyed than earlier,

He bit his lip as he took a seat beside me, “I just wanted you to know what happened to your parents, I don’t want you to think they just abandoned you, I didn’t think it’d stressed you out this much,” he answered,

“I think everyone else except me is stressed about this, now that I know can I leave, or are we planning something more worthwhile,” I announced, hoping that I get the point across that I don’t want to spend another passing second about the former topic.

Rodrigo cleared his throat and leaned closer, “Well, they were planning to shut down the Mariella Labs altogether, and having this blackmail material on our side seems enough assurance that we could possibly pull this off with minimal drawbacks,” he explained, at best a summary of what they’ve been talking about since earlier,

“How are things in the Mariella Labs so far?” I asked just so I know how we’ll act during these times,

“Seems like they issued a search, August is labeled as a wanted criminal, and, for accomplices, they had descriptions of you, Inka, and Madeline,” he answered,

“None of Arthur? That’s good,” I asked, that’s quite impressive, I guess the shape-shifting thing really pays off.

Madeline clicked his tongue glaring at me as Rodrigo sighed and Denis shook his head with a frown. Something tells me that I made an error again, these collective reactions didn’t tell me what that was, however. August was the only one who shared my confusion, but that’s excusable. She just came.

I wonder if mine is too because how is it that I’m the only one who can’t piece these things together? All I did was clarify if Arthur is also being hunted and I’m impressed that she’s not, aren’t they?

“See, this is the problem,” Madeline told August as he gestured to me with blatant irritation,

“The mixed messages,” Denis affirmed, to which Madeline agreed with a nod,

“I’m not sure if it’s intentional or ignorance,” Rodrigo quipped as he agreed with the both of them,

August then stared at me. She squinted for a second before leaning an inch closer, “Mr. Becking, is it?” she asked,

I shook my head, “Hacksaw, just ‘Valya’ is fine,” I corrected,

She nodded, “Well, I think this issue should be between Valya and Arthur, and maybe… we could just focus on impersonal missions first? We can’t force either of them to face this matter, after all, it’ll just burden both of them if we made a bigger deal of something like this. They’ll come around eventually, right?” she suggested.

Rodrigo cleared his throat and nodded, “Right, my apologies,”

“I guess,” Denis mumbled, leaning back on the couch and crossing his arms,

“You’re right… as expected of my baby—ow, sorry I’ll stop calling you that,” Madeline said, shamelessly showcasing that disgusting behavior.

“How are you planning to go through with this plan?” I said, to redirect the conversation back to its origin. It was Denis who responded,

“Expose them, these documents should be enough to testify against them,”

Madeline then shook his head, “See, we can’t do that because the next we know is they’re already saying that they don’t know s**t like that actually happened and blame it on August,” he argued, shutting down the idea completely much to our confusion,

“Why?” I asked,

“Because she’s in charge of recreating that project, and with the reputation, they made for her, she doesn’t stand a chance, and Mariella already made all those charity events to collect enough good rep to save their asses,” Madeline explained in August’s stead, though she really looked like she wanted to say those herself,

‘Hypothetically, no actually, in a parallel universe, if I had a partner I’m going to base off everything Madeline does as a guideline of what not to do, this made my eyes sting’

Anyway, back to the topic, “So you’re still continuing where he’s left off? I thought he axed and abandoned his research?” I asked again, there’s too much going on and they’re not asking enough questions,

August nodded, “yes, but unfortunately, he didn’t do a thorough job since it’s was during the height of his escape from the investors, that’s how they found out who his wife was, your mother, Mrs. Misha Ivanov-Becking, although there’s no evidence that they got married—“

“Do you have a picture? Whether or not I’m born out of wedlock isn’t my biggest issue right now,” I asked, cutting her off from getting into the identities too much, that’s not my goal here, I just wanted to look at her because I barely look like Dorian at all,

August then started going through the documents and folders on the table and after flipping and skimming through some, she finally handed a folder to me with the specific page, and it’s filled with glued pictures of my mother, I guess. She had the same white streak of hair; she had the same facial structure as me; she had the same… practically everything of me.

And from what I see, she’s a f*cking Olympian, are you f*cking kidding me? Misha Ivanov, huh? Very Russian-sounding.

“It’s like looking into a mirror,” Denis whispered beside me as he invaded my personal space and looked at the pictures, “Well not really, it’s not like you’re a complete imitation of your mom, you definitely got something from you dad too,” Denis followed up with a nonchalant shrug,

“Yeah, a mental disorder,” I agreed as I placed the document back to the pile on the coffee table, “Now that’s done and over with, what’s our next step, finding out how to clean August’s name, or do we prefer to just burn the Mariella Labs to the ground along with an anonymous testimony to expose everything they’ve done so far in exchange of our freedom,” I presented the two easily made options and there was a passing silence as they exchanged glances,

“Can’t we have both?” Denis asked,

“You want a flower to add to that Rainbow and cupcakes daydream?” I spat back,

“Well, we can’t act either of that now, and besides, you’re injured anyways, there’s nothing we can do for now but lie low,” Madeline noted, rubbing August's shoulder, he seems like he's comforting her or something. Gross.

‘Yeah, definitely I’d be totally fine with lying low—I’m no f*cking pushover,’

“No, if they gave us something to worry about, we should return the favor, Let’s ask Anselmo to leak out some of this s**t, he’s good at those,” I countered and both Denis and Rodrigo turned to face me.

“Ah…well, I guess, better than doing nothing,” Rodrigo agreed.

“It’ll be like our little love-letter exchange, if not a warning that if they keep pulling sh*t like that, they’ll be having problems,” I explained, and Denis hummed as he rested his chin on his palm, looking at me with a smug smile as he made subtle nods,

Madeline clicked his tongue, shaking his head with a small smile. “You’re a real menace, huh? That’s kinda cool of you,” he noted.

‘…that f*ck am I supposed to reply to that?’ I just shrugged and stood up, the pain was more manageable now that I’m building up a tolerance to it, I need a smoke.

“Where are you going?” Denis asked,

“Out, where’s my gun?”

“Excuse you? People are looking for you, and your gun is right by the counter,”

“Then I’ll just hide, give me your car keys and wallet,” I replied as I grabbed my gun, just the 1911 45acp, the S&W is too much,

“Like hell,” Denis refused, flipping me off.

“I’ll f*cking shoot myself in the head if I don’t get a smoke this instant,” I warned, not that I’m going to do just that, but Denis has always been weak against that kind of sh*t.

With a sigh, he just handed me the things I asked for, “Wear a mask and a hat at least,”

“Where will I find something like that?”

“I think Inka and Art have some of those in the duffel bag in my bedroom,” Rodrigo replied and I just begrudgingly abided and wore a plain black baseball cap and cloth mask, before leaving through the main door and getting in Denis’ car.

A different car completely, he must’ve swapped or disposed of the former one, either way, I went ahead with it and got my brand of cigarette from one of the rundown convenience stores within the area, the T.V near the cashier was muted but it happened to show the news about the lab’s bitching, airing fake news like August was a mad-scientist gone wild.

She's questionable because she's a fan of my father's delusional work, but the woman dated Madeline. Surely she must be the sane one in that relationship. I paid for my stuff, with Denis’ money, of course, and decided to go for a little drive.

I hung around the dumpster site where I dropped out of the little brats from before. It’s dark, deserted, and near a lake, so if anyone ever tries me I’ll just shoot them here and now and dump them in said lake. It’s pretty cold, but factors like me wearing light clothing could be an explanation. I’ll just finish a stick or two and I’ll go back.

In addition, this is a good spot for some thinking. My thoughts immediately trailed off to Arthur and still I couldn’t find what slip I did to make her slap me like that, not the first time that I got slapped by a woman but Arthur’s extra strong.

It still stings a little.

“Woah it’s—“

“Who the f**k was that?" I called out after hearing voices in the dark, my gun raised and aimed to where I heard it,

“It’s us, sir—uhh, Tyrone? Remember?” the voice replied,

‘Don’t f*****g tell me…’

“We’re… we’re the ones who helped you with Ice,” he added, and speak of the gremlins, Tyrone and his friend…

What’s his name? The edgy kid—Michael?

“I’m with Marcello too,” Tyrone said, ‘close enough’, with the other kid right behind him, I dropped the gun, they came closer and Marcello nodded at me, still not saying anything, he’s still not the talkative type.

“Man, it’s good to see you again, sir,” Tyrone said, standing from a distance, why did he even approach me in the first place, I never thought I treated them good enough for them to think we could be on a talking basis, what the hell is wrong with youth.

“Why’s that?” I asked, huffing out smoke,

Tyrone sighed as he glanced at Marcello before facing me, “Ice’s goons are back at it again, they took over since Ice died, they’re selling around really bad stuff,” he replied.

‘Well, I don’t know how that answers my question, I’m not going to kill people just because they sell bad stuff,’

Marcello placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, making the latter pause, “They’re selling high-grade stimulants, and these junkies become something like…super-strong zombies,” Marcello elaborated.

'Now, hold on.'

“What?” I asked, did I just hear that right? ‘Super strong zombies’? I don’t know if it’s because of all that talk about superhumans that August went on about earlier, but this got me intrigued again.

“It’s like a pill, and they just go berserk, it’s like…what’s that thing bodybuilders take, Cello?” Tyrone asked as he turned to Marcello and the latter replied “Steroids” as they both turned to me.

‘….ah damn it,’

“Get in the car,” I told them as I sat back on the driver’s seat again. If these brats got me curious for nothing, I’ll beat them up, “Tell me where,” I instructed as I revved the engine.