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Impossible! Nevada’s too dangerous to have at least one roaming around in the open. Well, one is to prove truth wrong. It may seem at youth, but it’s consciousness around it’s environment extends their lifespan, by hiding in an alley of course.
Everything felt like it was happening at the same time, like it was some death loop. He’d wish to meet eyes with the grim reaper, especially in grimace with his form. For every death he goes through, new cloth conceals his identity in logic with preventing blood spill. But in all seriousness, he’s better off dead rather to be stuck in a never ending reality that is impossible to escape.
He’s not human anymore. So why is he still here? Oh, to make sure the Auditor was dead, along with that mad clown named Tricky.
With his luck, he found himself a faraway distance from the A.A.H.W and felt a wind of freedom revolving around his mutilated body. Regeneration is crucial, and with the successful demolition of the Primary Improbability Drive, the normalcy process begins. He should celebrate! Alone of course.
The hotdog stand was his favorite destination. A memorial taste of barbecue sauce never leaves his tongue. He had to keep low profiles though. He’s still wanted by the agency, and never in hell will he let them spoil some sour grapes on his little special day.
“Heya what would you like?” The hotdog vendor looked at him while dusting his layer-stained apron.
Hank then pointed at the barbecue sauce. He wasn’t much the talker in all honesty, but definitely not mute. I mean, no one can argue especially when he lost a part of his jaw and replaced it with a metal one when Tricky revived him in pleasure of being the cause of his death over and over. Even if he did still have his jaw, nothing different happens.
“Here ya go.” The vendor then gave a hotdog and bun. A squiggle of barbecue sauce kicks Hank’s little gluttony. Only a hotdog with his favorite sauce will have this effect on him, and he ain’t complaining. He then gave a quarter to the vendor and left to find a good hiding spot that’ll buy him more alone time.
A little playmate will appear before his eyes in hunger, hopes their soon-to-be new acquaintance would share them a bite.
Hank decided to settle in the alley way of yuck. He gave no mind at all. He’s seen weirder things and the stench of trash and blood have already been implanted in his smell.
While taking a bite of his hotdog with barbecue sauce, he felt a paw on his shoulder. His senses were near deterioration from his constant cheats in life and death, accompanied by a raising fist. But as soon as he turned to his side, the fist that closed his hand seconds ago released the tension as now the palm reaches to pet the little soul that resides his broad shoulders.
‘ OMG OMG ’ is what he thought. He couldn’t believe it. Was it fate or a blessing? Could be both, but it doesn’t matter...
He was able to pet a cat!
Or you could say a kitty.
The smaller the cuter I guess.
The same situation happened with his fated encounter with “The Blender”. Hands stimmed in excitement over such a simple humongous bladed device that he almost dropped all his objectives in the bin while testing out this “doomsday baby” on his antagonistic victims as what he refers.
But it’s different. It’s tactile claws may not be as refined as the blades of a blender, but they are living things. You can bring a blender anywhere but what’s the use? At least for a feline like this ginger kitty can be bait for cute remarks and fur ruffles while the psychopathic gunman does his job (unless it was a dog-lover they were dealing with).
The kitten seemed to be in peace with it’s new friend that Hank could see it licking his gloved palm. A body language which is to trust their comrades.
‘ Love me now...? ’ Hank’s lips formed a small smile in amusement with his tiny companion. It couldn’t see the change of expression through concealment of his mask though. But it looks like the kitty has took a liking on Hank, because it seems to be resting near his huge palm.
‘ I’ll name you MGK .’ He paused his thoughts to pet the kitten, ‘Machine Gun Kelly.’
Now he was a bit proud of himself for coming up with a unique name that was based on a popular band. He wasn’t that creative with names anyway, so references are what he relies on. And yes, he loves guns so if that wasn’t a good one then I don’t know what is.
Now while Hank isn’t still tracked by the A.A.H.W. yet, he decided to spend some more time on the alley with MGK, unveiling his soft side. Barely anyone thinks he has one, or that he had. Only he himself knows about his personal history and evolution of the life he lived, if his current traits were passed down from his ceased bloodline, or something he acquired along his journey.
‘C’mere, kitty kitty.’ Hank bent down while he thought and gestured as he began to rub his thumb and index finger and did his best to make a ‘psst’ sound with his metallic voice. The kitten just looked at him.
‘Maybe it’s famished.’ Looking at his hotdog with barbecue sauce, he grabbed a tiny piece of bread with hotdog. And how could he forget to dip a little barbecue sauce anyway? Who knows MGK might have good taste with his food choice.
He tried to get the kitten’s attention again, and it was a success as it dashed between Hank’s legs and gobbled up it’s meal. Hank assumed that the kitten hasn’t eaten in days and survived with remains of its small prey and bedraggled trash cans, so food this good was new to it.
‘Good kitty, MGK.’ Hank then stroked its fur and grabbed it gently by the stomach for him to sit down and lay it between his legs while his vision of red stares into what was once the bright sky, now plunged to dark. Killing the sun wasn’t that regretful to him anyways.
‘I wonder how you got here. Nevada’s the hell of earth and no single animalistic soul lingered here at all.’
Looking left, right, up and down for for any intruders, he found none. “Phew.”
He hasn’t played with any animals for a long time, so this was his only chance before he dies (again and again). The kitten rolled around his legs while he tickled it’s sides, head and stomach. It’s small meows made Hank wish he’d get the smile back that he used to rarely wear before improbable events had happened. Because seeing this kitten being affectionate made him a bit giddy. Or at least that’s what he thought.
Now Hank was a bit tired. He hoped that none of the agents would find him here, or they might kill MGK, and that he has to go on a rampage again and mourn for his fallen ally that he just met in measle minutes.
‘I’ll keep you alive.’
He made it clear when he lifted MGK and gently gripped it’s paw.
‘Whoever kills you will suffer for the worst.’
Now settling the kitten on his lap and ruffling it’s fur, sweat buildup on his clothed face.
‘You are my priority.’
A tinge of anxiety shocks him as his vision of MGK in front of him, dead. Worse was the murder done in his own eyes.
‘All my friends, or you should say my allies, are corpses.’
He was alone. He just met those two, and yet, they barely knew each other. But they were the reason why he was still here, alive despite the pain and agony.
‘I’m not the best at sentiment.’
The feline’s minuscule claws faintly pierce through material of black, climbing to his pectorals for attention.
‘But the least I can do is protect who matters to me. Repent for the allies who fallen to purgatory of improbability and madness.’
Now answered as Hank’s arms extended to the kitten’s reach, engulfing the tiny soul in a hug, gritting his teeth, with no harsh strength directed to the kitten. Something that he’s never done before.
‘You’re my friend.’
Last of his strength drained from his sweet revenge against the A.A.H.W brought him to a worry full, but gentle slumber. Kudos to MGK for snuggling on his wide chest and his assuring meows.
‘And fluffy might be a new word for me.’
Now that it’s new owner is asleep, it might be pointless abandoning him. Besides, it’s quest of finding a proper owner has come to an end. Well, you can’t expect much from a mercenary gunman who’s eyes in thrill of a fight. He has a soft side too ya know.
Of course, MGK resided near his chest and had what it seemed the least loneliest sleep it ever had. The best sleep to be honest.
Even “Madness Capital” can have sunshines and rainbows. It’s either you search for them or they appear in your eyes.