The Hitman and His Consort

LI - Shares

!!TRIGGER WARNING!!

!!TRIGGER WARNING!!

!!TRIGGER WARNING!!

[: DESCRIPTIONS OF T*RT*RE' PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION]

First Person P.O.V: VALENTIN HACKSAW

I hefted his body up and tried to sit him down on the chair, but he scuffled. Of course, I’m not expecting him to take this silently. I gave him a right hook for the Entrée. This is going to be a long meal. After that, he was a bit more tolerable, meaning he didn’t fight and just sat down on the chair. Now I’ll need to separate each arm from each armchair.

Which should be his main approach now, I’m really not in the mood to deal with more disagreeable people. I’m done arguing, I just want to vent, and if my urge and desire to torture Julian wasn’t so intense, I’d have talked to Rodrigo first.

He might be frustrating, but he’s still my therapist and I still pay him, and sometimes he actually helps.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Julian began,

“Too cheap,” I replied as I lifted the bag of tools and placed it on a shelf for easy access.

He sighed, “Ah, who would’ve thought one of Arthur’s boyfriends actually end up better than me,” he announced. Is this his tactic? Chatting me to my demise? Better than nothing, I suppose,

“Yes, yes, words, I’m paying attention keep talking,” I said as I pull out the pliers and set them down, there’s an order to things and one that’s been working well for me, to boot, but I’m eager on trying new things for this session, I’ll mix it up, especially for this guy, I hope that'll warm his heart.

‘Hah, still funny,’

“There's something on your mind right now though, you sure you’re in any position to be doing this?” he asked with a smirk, oh he’s also a smartass. Only people who really have nothing to lose provoke does this person only have himself against this cold, cruel world.

How convenient for everyone.

“I’m fine, although I am recently rejected, or so it seemed, so I'm in a pretty bad mood,” I replied. He clicked his tongue,

“Oh, I know that feeling, I supposed Arthur also got sick of you too—augh!” he was ranting again but he was talking too much, and hearing him say Arthur’s name did not help, which is why I shoved a light bulb in his mouth. This is one of the more harmless things I do when they won’t shut up.

The best part, it gives the power of choice. If he wants to keep talking, all he has to do was bite down on that bulb. If he thinks it’s not worth it, then don’t. I rolled my sleeves up and stretched my neck before walking over to him with another roll of duct tape squeezed between my arms and lat,

“Not going to talk more?” I asked,

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. I scoffed, too bad. I was hoping to get a few screaming and shouting, but even Rodrigo warned me against that. I started with the arms first. I need to part them first before taping it down on the armrest, and as foreseen, he jerked his hands away from me.

I did temporary adjustments, to be more precise, I dislocated his left elbow earning a nice, loud, muffled groan. Removing the rope Rodrigo tied around his wrists and worked with his right elbow first, strapping it to the armchair with the tape, tearing it with my teeth because working with struggling psychopaths tends to be such a hands-on activity.

One arm down, I snapped the dislocated arm back in place before strapping that one down. Now separating the feet could be a little trickier, legs are stronger than arms by nature. I could use the same approach, but I doubt my audience will be impressed with the same act twice.

I grabbed an icepick from the bag. This one requires some strenuous work, but nothing too difficult. I started stabbing the tendons around his kneecaps, a loud sharp grunt followed with every dig I made. I only started with one knee. For now, I want to preserve his body as much as I could.

After that leg was rendered immobile and basically useless, I got rid of the rope around the ankles and also tied each limb to the front legs of the chair. Now the prep was complete. I looked at him from head to toe, spotting a nick in his ear. Seems like a pretty fresh wound.

“From Arthur?” I asked as I flicked the spot with my finger.

His breathing was heavy and rapid, sweat was forming on his forehead and down on his neck. With just that? Then again, dislocation of joints can be quite nauseating. Well, everything I did could cause nausea, so I guess I could cut him some slack. This is just how everyone else acted anyways.

“I asked a question,” I reminded as I fetched the pliers that I prepared earlier, he glared at me and flipped me the middle finger on both hands, “It’s a nod or shake question Julian,” I followed, clicking my tongue as I pressed his left-hand middle finger down, positioning the pliers right at the nails and jerking it off ripping the nails out as much as I could in one pull.

I’ve become an expert with this part, practice does do perfect. Another muffled scream broke into the thick air. This amount of screaming should be covered by this somewhat soundproofed garage of Rod, I won’t believe him if he says he doesn’t use this space for similar things.

Like I’ll buy that someone with direct connections with the mafia has no experience with torture.

Julian kept groaning and shouting, if he could, and squirming like that would help him. He kept groaning at me like he was cursing me with all his might. I’d love to hear what he’s saying but I don’t care. This detached feeling from everything is not new to me but in times like this it’s such a shame, I wish I could do that thing Madeline did when he was beating up someone who badmouthed August.

I pulled another nail from the same hand and another course of yells filled the room, I huffed as he squirmed again. Props to him for still trying to escape I guess, some people give up after the kneecap thing. He looked at me again and it sounded like he was saying something to me, of course, I couldn’t understand.

‘Well, it wouldn’t hurt me…’ I thought as I gave him an uppercut so he’d bite the bulb, thus freeing his mouth for him to speak. Some of the fragments and shards slide out of his mouth while the others cut through his tongue, gums, and the surrounding flesh. He was drooling them out, which is disgusting.

“You were saying?” I asked,

He looked up at me, naturally glaring at me with all his being, “Now I know why Arthur rejected you,” he said, which seems like a lot of effort and pain to pronounce, either he has a high pain tolerance or he’s really determined to make surface-level statements like that,

‘Like hell you do,’

I prepped the pliers again and pulled the middle finger’s nail, on the other hand, his eyes rolled back and his neck bent backward even his shoulders were tensing up and his good leg was trying so hard to move. The screaming was crisp this time and so were the follow-up grunts and groans, even the swearing and cursing.

Nothing I’ve never heard before, though.

“This, this is why she won’t be with you…you’re a f*cking monster,”

“Yeah, I know, I know, heard that one before,”

“She’s probably scared of you,” he said and I raised a brow at him,

“What do you mean? Don’t assume things about her like you actually know her,” I replied, shaking my head at him as I pulled another nail out,

After another minute of screaming in agony, he focused on me once again, he’s one determined trash-talker, “But I do know her, she loved me you know… at least she gave me a chance,” he began,

I tilted my head at him, so he was trying to push my buttons isn’t he, “and I don’t know what she hated about me but I was ready to give her a perfect and normal life, something she deserves, something you won’t be able to give her,” he finished,

I still have some shred of manners, so I waited a bit to make sure he’s done talking before I pulled another nail out. “It doesn’t look like she wants a normal life,” I replied after he finished screaming,

He scoffed, sucking in a deep breath as sweat trickled from his forehead, “That’s what you think, what do you know about her? She dragged you around to help her with stuff, and what do you get in return? Nothing,” he spat, breathing hard and clenching his jaw while his whole body trembled before talking again, “she was more than eager to date me back when we were together, shows a lot of how much she doesn’t want you—AHHH!”

Another nail out. That was almost unbearably boring. I already know all of this, I know that I have no idea about anything personally related to Arthur. I was fine with that, I could learn those as we go. I could help her around like what I’m already doing. I could even buy her food and we could eat together. I could provide for her necessities.

Those are more important than anything, right?

And if she cared about anything else other than the necessary, then why didn’t she take Julian’s offer for a normal life, he looks like someone who lives a lavish life.

What does it take for Arthur to consider me? What more could she want from me?

“But you know…we’re kind of the same,” he announced.

‘He’s really persistent with the conversation, huh?’

Fine, I’ll humor him, “Really? How come,” I asked,

“We were both ways beyond her caliber, but we’re terrible people, genuinely,” he began, “The type to make people suffer for no reason,” he followed, looking at me.

I frowned at him cause he already missed. I don’t hurt people without a reason. I have too many reasons to hurt people. I’m not a psychopath. I even get paid to do those things. I’m not going to shoot someone for simply existing. That’s too… aimless. Things out of context are literally meaningless and, therefore, boring.

“We’re both involved in this business, we’re really the same, there’s just one thing that sets us apart, I’m better than you… better than you enough that I was worth a chance while you were refused outright,” he narrated,

I set the pliers down as I turned to face him, the little attention wh*re, I crossed my arms as I waited for this little monologue to finally end. He shook his head, “are you sure I’m your enemy in this situation? My death and suffering won’t change Arthur’s opinion of you, if anything, you’re proving you’re not really worth even considering,” he finished.

Does he have poor comprehension? Does he not understand the status of our arrangement? He kept saying we’re the same, then he goes on to say that he’s better than me, like it’s me who’s strapped to a chair, almost out of fingernails on my hands with a mangled kneecap.

“You’re not better than me Julian,” I reminded as I placed a thumb on my chin,

His little tactic to turn me against Arthur is obviously ineffective, and he went on such a roundabout way to get to that point, he didn’t even connect to me. His words were nothing but background noise.

Either way, why did Arthur even date this guy? Narcissistic, loud, and annoying, what quality did Arthur find on this guy that was remotely attractive? Was it his face?

Perhaps.

He looks symmetrical, the face of any other conventionally attractive man who’s not good-looking enough to be an actor but good enough to turn a few heads every now and then.

What can I do to keep this interestin—ah. I got it. I left the garage and to the main lounge, Rodrigo probably has what I’m looking for. August gasped when she saw me so I checked if I had blood on my shirt, we’re not even going that hard yet, there are a few speckles but that’s probably when I started stabbing Julain’s kneecaps with the icepick.

Anyways.

“Rodrigo do you have a sewing kit?” I asked,

He frowned at me, “I do, it’s a surgical one… let me get it,” he replied before heading to his room and coming back with a first aid kit, handing me the box,

“Did you get hurt?” He asked, inspecting me from head to toe,

“It’s not for me,” I replied before getting back to the garage and threading the needle.

Once I prepared that, I walked over to him and studied his face, this is not going to be easy or perfect, but at least I could make this personal. I know nothing about Julian too, other than some simple info and that he’s a prideful self-absorbed d**k, and if he’s going to ramble about how we’re the same then I’ll make it so that he’s right.

I pinched the thin skin between his brows and eyelid, “My eyebrows are pretty close to my eyes,” I mumbled to myself,

“What are you—Augrh! AH—!” He started groaning when I began sewing the areas I pinched into place, like an extremely unethical and unqualified plastic surgeon. On the other hand, nature would thank me because I’m not working with plastic in the first place.

I finished the first set of stitches, now I have to repeat on the other side.

“What are you doing!? Stop it! Stop!” he yelled as he kept moving his head to delay the procedure. I punched his nose down, one to shut him up and keep him steady and two so his nose would be crooked, like mine. Now I’m starting to see that we’re the same.

The sewn skin started bleeding on both sides of his face, but it’s no big deal, it’s not a lot of blood, his nose also started bleeding but that’ll stop soon, I lifted his face up and moved on the skin between the upper part

of the cheek and the skin below the eye,

“My eyes are kind of droopy so I need to pull your eye shape down,” I explained again before making the stitches on both sides. After that, I took a few steps back to view my handiwork, and as I thought, facial augmentation should be left to those who know their way around it. Like Arthur, it really takes some skill.

Julian's face looks like a morbid scarecrow, the blood didn’t help at all. I least the eyes did droop down a little, the pink skin inside the eyes was showing a little due to the pull of the thread but it’s not that noticeable.

‘Well…I tried to turn his face like mine, but I’d hardly call this successful, what else can I do?’

“Hey, Julian… how tall are you?” I asked,

“Mhhmm….urgh…6..6’2” he replied.

I snapped my finger at him, “I knew it, you’re three inches too short to be like me, how can we be similar with such a drastic height difference holding us back,” I joked, as I went back to the bag and pulled out a bone saw, one which has a striking resemblance to hacksaw, which should be fitting to be used by someone who has the tool as their literal last name.

I started hacking the undamaged knee, and naturally, the room was filled with screaming but it’s almost like drunken screaming. He’s probably going to end up unconscious. But I need to sever this part and wedge something with a three-inch width in between before I sew them back together.

That way, technically, we’ll both be 6’5. Yet another factor to prove that we are the same. I’ll keep milking the f*ck out of those claims until there’s nothing else in his body that I can alter to mimic my own.

--

“Whew…alright,” I said, wiping the sweat off my forehead as I stepped back a bit, sawing bones is really laborious, so strength dependent and demanding. Even so, I manage to do what I wanted. I think I got too immersed. I even trimmed his large ears and shaped them to be like mine, now to ask for a critic’s opinion. I went back to the lounge again and this time both Denis and August were alarmed and concerned to see me.

It’s probably the blood. There was a profound increase compared to earlier.

“Rodrigo,” I called out, peeking out from the doorway,

“What?” he asked as he dropped the folder he was reading back to the coffee table,

“I need your opinion on this,” I replied as I pointed inside the garage,

With a heavy sigh, he stood up and walked over to me, and entered the room, his eyes widening as it lands on the grotesque sight of Julian’s marred and disfigured body. Rodrigo covered his mouth and took a deep breath, before looking at me, saying something under his breath, and looking away.

He shook his head before he walked over to the unconscious body, placing his index and middle finger on Julian’s neck, checking for a pulse. He’s still alive. I’ve got to say the man has some life in him. Rodrigo, without a word, pulled a gun from his side and emptied a shell on Julian’s face with a disdainful look.

“There’s nothing I could do for him than spare him all this suffering, Valya, what were you trying to do?” He asked as he turned to me.

I gestured at the stitches on Julian’s face, “I was trying to make him look like me, he won’t shut up about it,” I explained with a shrug,

He dragged his hands over his face, “Valya…this is overkill, is there something you’re upset about? Why go through such measures?” He asked, I tilted my head at him and frowned as I shifted my gaze to Julian.

“I usually don’t put this much effort sure, but I guess I’m a bit pissed because Arthur was being irrational,” I replied as I neat my things out, using a random rag I saw lying around to wipe the blood off of the tools I used.

“Care to tell me about it?” He asked, lighting a cigarette as he occasionally curses under his breath as he glances over the scene.

I stretched my neck and rolled my elbows after clearing the place as much as I could, “Now?” I asked, gesturing to the mess that I made.

“Yes now, I want to know just how much provocation does it take to make you do something like this,” he trailed off puffing out a cloud of smoke as she ran his free hand through his hair, “and perhaps…find a way to make sure it never happens again,”