The Hitman and His Consort

XXII - Twisted

Third Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

‘Madeline is an eerily tame name for someone who exudes restrained aggression,’

Is the first thing I thought. Madeline woke up earlier this day at the crack of f*cking dawn and Inka struggled to calm him down as he attempted to go throw hands with everyone with his noodle-like arms, like a feral dog barring his teeth, then again I supposed he tried his best to intimidate us even when he only looked pitiful with that bland hospital gown on.

When Inka finally talked some sense into him and he looked less like a rabid f*cking animal, he was a lot more agreeable, Rodrigo gave him some of his spare clothes and we agreed that Diana would be the only option in terms of ‘correct’ medical assistance.

I told them to just give him some Tylenol. He’s good enough to try and attack me the moment he opened his eyes. He should be fine.

Rodrigo disagreed with me, but what else does he do other than occasionally doing just that?

Diana, used to doing things like this, didn’t ask questions and just got it over with. She’s made it clear that this isn’t something we could do anytime because she’s apparently too stressed with med school to help us in the near future. Madeline became calmer as the hours passed. I sat beside Arthur who was still deep asleep and the next thing I knew; she was already groping my chest, clinging to me like a constrictor snake.

It didn’t take me some hyper-sensitivity training to know that the situation was awkward, Rodrigo was looking at me like he was trying to send me telepathic messages while glancing at Madeline, not exactly what he’s trying to get across but whatever that was, it didn’t.

What I know for sure is my closeness to Arthur is what offed the tension in the room, so I just draped my arm over her so I’m at least comfortable while basking in the strained atmosphere that it created. I could hear Madeline clear his throat.

What? It’s not my fault his sister clung to me in her sleep so none of them should be giving me dagger eyes. If anything, it’s Arthur’s fault.

And as expected of her, the moment she woke up she told me I have “Nice t**s”.

‘I’m not someone who’s fond of flattery, but this one felt well deserved,’

I’d trust her to worsen any possible situation, and she’d do nothing else. She’s like my pocket personification of Murphy’s Law. After that, as usual, she spun her emotional roulette and decided that the next thing she’ll feel is emotional vulnerability and decided to cry when she saw her brother’s face.

Which is relatable, I also feel extreme vexation whenever I see Denis that I feel I would also be on the verge of tears.

What happened after their theatrical display of the fact that they are indeed related because they changed moods and airs the next f*****g minute. They started a competition on who’s able to throw more of a tantrum and in this case, Madeline won. I felt like I was watching that cash-cowed children’s film about sisters who fight because one had this stupid vindication of drawing an unnecessary wall between them.

I hated that movie. I would’ve been spared from seeing it if it wasn’t for Denis and his obsession with pop culture.

Rodrigo went ahead and comforted Art so she wouldn’t feel too bad being over-tantrum'd by her brother. Inka did the same. How many people does it take to woo an upset child? Even I had to interfere because it was getting boring watching them throw their feelings around and not get anywhere. If this were a real sport, it'd be an ugly one.

Inka gestured me to come closer to her, and we stepped away, or as far as we could anyway, in this confined clinic of Rodrigo’s. He should really invest in a bigger place just because he thought of this work as a side hobby, he’s not taking it much seriously. I remember doubting his credibility when he said that he’s not thinking of profiting from this job.

‘Not something you’d want to hear from your therapist but I’m also not taking this seriously, it’s doesn’t really put me on a high horse,’

“Keep an eye on Arthur, I have a feeling there’s something Maddie isn’t telling us,” she whispered,

“Firstly, why do I have to keep an eye on Art if it’s Madeline who’s being questionable, secondly, how did you get that from that situation alone?” I asked back. That didn’t seem to amuse her but I never intended to be of amusement to her anyway,

She frowned at me and sighed, an expression I’m familiar with since I usually see it from Denis and Diana alike, “I’ll keep an eye on Maddie, or would you like to switch?”

“No,”

“Then stop fussing and just do it,”

“Fine,” I replied, and she gestured for us to go back to Rod and Arthur, who were still in the middle of consoling each other, seriously just how long and how much is this going for? I went back to sit beside Arthur while Inka tried to pry Madeline out of the room, and for whatever reason, she was let in the room.

I’m not sure exactly what I’m not understanding because the room seemed to dote and cater to the sullen mood of these siblings, I can hear Arthur whisper her complaints and dissatisfaction, and Rodrigo, in response, validated her emotions telling her that it’s only normal she felt that way.

But is it, though? I’ve known the moment I gained consciousness that people are different in many f*****g ways. No two people are the same. In this situation, she’s the only one feeling this way. Her emotions are not mine or anyone else’s to share, so how can you label that as normal? Isn’t normal defined as something ‘average’ or ‘ordinary’, perhaps some might even define it as ‘bland’ and she’s neither of those three.

It could be possible that Rodrigo was saying sweet nothings to her to put her at momentary ease, which is useless because she’ll be experiencing this situation over again if they don’t settle the root of the problem.

This seems like a fairly easy problem-solving situation if they only used their head and not their ‘hearts’ which technically only pumps blood.

All of these thoughts were words I wanted to say out loud, but even I could read the room. I’ll tell this to Art in private. Maybe I could talk some sense into her too. Given I wouldn't be easy on the ears like Rod, I suppose I could offer the least bit of logical assistance. She lacks in that aspect after all.

“I have a change of clothes and my bathroom is small but you can take a shower there, would you like that?” Rodrigo offered to Art who nodded as she sucked in a deep breath, smiling Rodrigo patted her shoulder as he left saying, “Alright, I’ll get them for you,”

‘I wonder if he talks like that to Diana too, and if so, is that what she liked about him? Because that’s weirdly disgusting,’

Arthur glanced at me with her swollen and puffy red eyes, sniffing as she hiccuped. Face buried in her hand, mildly sobbing still, honestly, this is the longest she’s held onto a single emotion and she chooses this?

“Arthur, how long are you going to bawl?” I asked

“… I can’t believe you just f*cking said that,” she answered to my absolute bafflement. I know she’s no saint but for her to use that sort of language to me is something I didn’t even think was possible,

I frowned at her, “…What do you mean? You’ve been crying fo—”

“Stop it, just stop… You’re not the person fit to speak in situations like this Valya, Don’t try—just, stop,” she said which is just in time that Rodrigo came back with the clothes and a towel that Arthur grabbed with aggression as she left and went to the bathroom.

Rodrigo looked at me, raising a brow, “What did you do?” He asked like an impatient and scolding mother.

“I spoke, as one does, like how you did,” I replied,

“Then it’s not what you did but what you said, we both speak, it’s just I know what I’m talking about and you’re, normally, downright rude,” he explained, taking a seat beside me.

“That a far gap you drew between us, doc,” I replied, making him chuckle as he shook his head,

“Ahh… well that’s the fact, you’re an exceptional killer, Valya,” he began, pulling out a cigarette box from his pocket and lighting one stick up, “you’re clever and physically proficient, both are admirable to the point it’s extraordinary,” he followed, listing the things that I am indeed unapologetically proud of.

‘But…’

He sucked in a breath, “but those cannot make up for the fact you have the emotional intelligence of a rude toddler,” he finished, delivering the punchline. I knew it was suspicious when he started listing my good points. He’s not that generous.

“Don’t people consider it a personal attack when the truth hurts them? Is it not a matter of her not seeing her fault and pressing them on me instead of taking accountability for her emotions? They’re hers after all,” I argued, crossing my legs and taking my own pack of cigarettes out.

We never smoked indoors before, but it’s not like he’ll be doing any work in the near future.

He looked at me with a knowing smile, his brows furrowed as if to test me, “Do you really believe that?" he asked, leaning back on the couch as he handed me his lighter.

I nodded to my own light as I lit my stick and sucked in a puff of smoke, “I don’t, I’m just curious if you’d get pent up with me and punch me on the face,” I answered, which is a lie part of me knew I made some sense but anyone could read the disapproval etched on his face.

“Don’t test me, Valya, you know I will,”

“Diana will hate you,”

“For three hours at max but that cheek of yours, I’ll make sure you endure for a whole day,”

“Are you this romantic to my sister, too?”

“Quite bold bringing her into this, I’m not so mentally unstable to let you manipulate me into treating you nicer, not when I see it’s not working, I need to find a new approach to your treatment,” he scolded, ruffling my hair, not even trying to hide that he could actually be my father with his age.

“You have that much time to spare?” I joked, making him frown as she shook his head.

“Guys… Inka’s knocked out, where’s Mads?” we both whipped our heads to face Arthur, who’s standing frozen by the doorway to Rodrigo’s tiny bedroom, freshly bathed. I ran inside and sure enough, Inka was right there out cold on the bed. Madeline made sure she was comfortable before he sneaked out through the window that he broke.

Aghast, Arthur was speechless as she processed it.

Meanwhile, I made a mental note that I will gloat to Inka later. Priorities.

“Should I lend you my car?” Rodrigo offered and Arthur sucked in a deep breath as she combed her fingers through her hair,

“WE NEED TO FIND HIM!” she yelled grabbing me and running outside, although I’m hesitant to use this impromptu stolen car back on the highway but her desperation and haste didn’t give me a chance to refute, she just jumped in the passenger car wearing a white sweatshirt over gray sweatpants.

‘Does Rodrigo see the world in monochrome?’ I thought as I revved the engine, driving away at full speed to the labs,

“Wait slow down—we might find him here!” she yelled, and I followed, it doesn’t seem like her statements were open for discussion as she looked like a hawk, personally I wouldn’t want to drive around the city with a stolen car. There were many stakes.

Like the owner finding it and then calling the cops on us, I’m pretty sure Arthur’s hands are already full with her problematic brother. No need to mention we caused the uproar and road rage because we’re driving so slow.

It’s funny how many problems two people, who both don’t give a f*ck, could cause in such a short duration of time, then again I must say this is the first time I heard a lot of angry horns, profanities, and raised middle fingers towards me that it made me feel I’ve unlocked some sort of new achievement. I suppose it's today’s silver lining.

Arthur had her whole upper body out the window, still diligently looking for Madeline, but I doubt we’ll find him in this crowd—

“FOUND HIM—STOP THE CAR!” she yelled and so I did. She jumped out of the car and since I’ve already brought it out here, I just went after her and stopped the car on the side of the road. Just realizing that maybe possible authorities would pick up her fingerprint on the car.

I’m not worried about mine. They could keep all of my f*****g handprints, those won’t match anything. What are they going to do? Ask for more bribe?

I chased after her, running barefoot on the street yet still fast. It was easy to catch up, and I even saw Madeline, also running, like he wasn’t on the brink of death last night. I overtook and grabbed Madeline, and like déjà vu, he followed that pulling force and threw a punch at me.

Jokes on him, her sister already used that approach and it’ll only work on me once, I blocked the punch and counted with a hook that disoriented him, but not enough as to stop him from lunging forward and attempting to trapped in a triangle hold.

I elbowed his side and that loosened his grip giving me the opening to grab his arm and throw him over my shoulder, pinning him down on his stomach as I twisted his arm,

“STOP!” Arthur yelled as she caught up and immediately knelt in front of us slapping Madeline, effectively stopping him from struggling to get me off.

“WHAT THE HELL ARTHUR?”

“DON’T f**k WITH ME MADELINE!”

They yelled at each other, which caught attention. We’re in the middle of the f*cking streets, after all. Pulling out a handkerchief, I made a makeshift binding to keep his hands restrained as I threw him over my shoulder.

“Let’s move this emotional scene to a different venue,” I said, gesturing at the amount of publicity we’ve accumulated.

Arthur was too shaken up to disagree and just went along with what I said while Madeline was breathing heavily, as expected from someone who’s too damn excited to do some strenuous activities despite having none of such in the past five months.

I hid them in a dead-end inside an alleyway where they could yell their emotions out all they want.

I set him down on the ground, he seemed like he needed the rest and Arthur went off.

“WHAT SORT OF BULLSHIT IS THIS?!”

“You wouldn’t understand Art I need—”

“LIKE HELL YOU NEED TO DO ANYTHING, MADS YOU’RE A VICTIM HERE!”

“DON’T YOU THINK I KNOW THAT?! f**k!” Madeline snapped, Arthur took in a deep breath, she seem to stop herself from yelling back even when it was obvious she wanted to strain her throat in doing just that, but Madeline wasn’t done.

“EVERY f*****g DAY—for 17 hours, the whole four weeks of those five months, they made me take sh*t from pill to injections! And all of them MADE ME WISH I WOULD JUST DIE AT SOME POINT!” Madeline sounded like he was crying, he wasn’t but his eyes were dry, red, and bloodshot but dry, an eerie chuckle gave him a moment to gulp before going on,

“They made me do tests, they made me run, and I ran, they made me jump, I jumped-if I didn’t then that gives them the opportunity to do their favorite thing, torture me, I could still feel electric shocks on my f*cking back I want to kill Pierre so much! I want to skin him alive—I want to make him feel what I felt as he watched and made me his lab rat!” he listed,

But I focused on his words too much that I didn’t notice how Arthur fell to the ground, meeting Madeline’s eyes with her tear-filled ones, she cupped his face, sobbing uncontrollably as she slowly engulf him in a hug, muttering ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again.

‘It’s not her fault, though?’

Madeline buried his face in her neck, his voice cracked as he spoke again, “I would’ve been dead… I’d have been thrown in a landfill somewhere but I’m alive right now… so I need to rescue her too, she’s the reason I’m still here,” he said.

Saying words completely unrelated to his previous ones, I thought I was stupid to not get what the hell he was talking about, but I wasn’t alone when Arthur pulled away and asked, “W-Who’s she?”

Madeline gulped, sighing as she said the next most interesting thing I’ve heard all day follow by what Rod said earlier when he said he’ll actually punch me.

“August,” he said in almost a whisper,

The shock and confusion on Arthur’s face were almost comical. She gasped as she turned to me. I shrugged. I’m as clueless yet fascinated as her,

“A-August…August helped you? That woman—” Arthur began,

“My August isn’t how everyone thinks of her, she’s not a monster,” Madeline countered, cutting her off,

“Wha—‘YOUR’ August?!” she exclaimed, which is my thoughts as well.

“She’s not doing any of those experiments and research willingly she’s held captive just as I am, so if I get out… I’m bringing her out too, if I could kill Pierre at the same time then it’s a bonus” he explained.

Arthur aggressively wiped her tears with her sleeve and stood up, sucking in a deep breath as she paced in circles, tracing the corners of her mouth with her index and thumb, “I-I don’t think I understand you Mads—Were you dating August?” she asked.

I looked at Madeline, waiting for his response to such a controversial question, “Yes… the first month of my mission... I couldn’t finish my case because I was stupid—I fell in love with her and I thought I could find a way to stage her death so we could run away—”

“Oh my God, Mads—” Arthur groaned, dragging her hands over her face,

“I know! I know I shouldn’t have, it’s corny and wrong—” Madeline rambled,

“It’s downright f*cking forbidden! Why would you engage in intimate relations with a target?!” Arthur yelled.

“Oh, f*ck off—you’re in love with f*cking Frankenstein over here!” Madeline countered, gesturing to me.

‘The same insult?’

“I’m not a part of this discussion,” I reminded, he's been going on since the beginning about this same sh*t,

Arthur grabbed her brother by the collar and glared daggers at him, her soft and caring demeanor from earlier banished into the f*****g underworld, “You and I are going to talk about this and I will listen, if you’re s**t makes sense I’ll help you, if it doesn’t I’m f*cking locking you up…” she threatened, pushing him away as she dragged her hands over her face with an exasperated sigh.

Madeline then turned to me with a look of contempt,

“What?” I asked,

“You don’t like me do you?” he asked,

“It’s mutual, isn’t it?” I countered,

“Damn right, but if you convince Art to help me that’ll change,” he said with a shrug,

“Right, I don’t care what you think though,” I replied, seems like he’s under the delusion that I gave a f**k about what he thinks. What a common miscon-f*****g-ception.

“Valya, how do we get back to the clinic? I need to f*****g think,” Arthur said as she approached me.

“I’ll call Denis,” I affirmed as I pulled out my phone, the progression today is also entertaining, I doubt I’ll be able to stay away from this now.