SID VALENTINE

by

 R.Van Saint

SMASHWORDS EDITION

*****

PUBLISHED BY:
 R. Van Saint on Smashwords

Sid Valentine
Copyright © 2010 by R. Van Saint

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.  

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*****

For Babycakes

*****

SID VALENTINE

The keys had to be jimmied just right to open the lock to the front door of his fifth floor efficiency apartment. Shutting the door from behind him, a pile of letters clutter the floor of the entryway. He crouches down to gather the paper mess and places it all on the table to his right, shifting aside a stack of mail from the days before. He didn't bother to open any of it, not so much as a peek. It was mostly collection notifications for past due bills and disconnection notices. He was in no mood to sift through it all after the day he's had.
From sun up to sun down he's been on a quest to find a job for the third week in a row going on fourth in a few days. Just today he went to five interviews all over the city and received no definite response. He'd received voice mails, e-mails and even text messages to let him know that he didn't get the job. Some places don't even bother to contact him at all. This shit is starting to get real old.
It's not for lack of trying. Sid wasn't afraid of hard work; he just wasn't too skilled with anything practical that can be applicable to daily life. His first interview of the day encapsulated the general response to his work experience overall. The position was for a customer service rep job, typical call center environment. He's lost track of how many call centers he's already applied to. This one was just posted yesterday on one of the job boards he frequented and he jumped at the chance of sending a résumé attached with a cover letter. He promptly received a response with an appointment for an interview the next day so he felt confident that he had a good shot at it.
So at quarter to 8 this morning he found himself waiting in an austere office with no windows, no view, and nothing on the wall except a motivational poster that said Inspire it with a photo of an eagle mid flight against a backdrop of a clear blue sky. Sid wondered if the hiring manager he was about to speak to actually believe in what the poster's message was about. So far he saw nothing inspiring in this place. He looked at his watch - 9:15. The hiring manager was late for the interview. The secretary he spoke with yesterday instructed him to be here by 9. The manager, a guy referred to by his secretary as Mr. Albert finally saunters in at 9:30 a.m. as Sid was just looking through his briefcase for extra copies of his résumé.
Sid stood up, shook his hand and introduced himself.
"Sid Valentine, pleasure to meet you Mr. Albert."
"Uh, yeah, likewise, did you say your name was Valentine?" Mr. Albert inquired without making eye contact; he was looking through the desk drawers.
"Yes sir, Valentine is my surname and Sid is my first. Most call me Val."
This Albert fella clearly was looking for Sid's résumé and was half-assed trying to make small talk to cover up for his inability to keep paperwork organized. Sid knew this and offered to give him one of the extra copies of his résumé from his briefcase.
"No, no, no, I got it here somewhere, pretty sure of it. Ah! Here it is, told you I had it." It had a fresh crease down the middle from being folded lengthwise, corners curled slightly. This Albert guy clearly hadn't taken the time to read through all of his papers and was just now really looking at Sid's résumé with fresh eyes.
Meanwhile, Sid was trying his best to keep his cool, clenching his jaws and slightly grinding his teeth together. He gripped the wooden armrests of the chair he sat on.
"Sid Valentine, says here that you've only had one previous work experience. So you've only had one job your whole life?"
"Yes sir, just one." (Just like it says on the paper you dip shit).
"Umm, lemme get this straight, you were a professional matchmaker?"
"Yes sir, in a sense. I observed people and brought together the ones that were right for each other solely by suggestions and hints. It was completely up to those individuals to pick up on the signs and follow through."
"Right." Mr. Albert looked at him with a blank stare.
"So where did you go to school for this?"
"It's a family trade sir, it's been passed down to me from generations of other cupi...err, I mean, matchmakers."
"Uh-huh, so you didn't go to school then?"
"Well, you can say that I was formally trained at home."
"Umm, it also indicates here that you're some kind of an expert archer."
"That is correct sir, since I was old enough to craft my own bow."
"Right," Mr. Albert scratches his double chin and leans forward, resting his forearms on his desk, fingers clasped together.
Here comes the million dollar question - Sid thought.
"So how exactly are you qualified for this position?"
He knew better than to stick around at that point. He knew that this ill-mannered guy in front of him had already made his mind up 5 minutes ago. He knew that he wasn't going to get the job. Sid was raised with a work ethic like no other, raised to show respect even to those who deserved none. So he stuck it out throughout the whole painful ordeal.
"Well Mr. Albert, I believe that I can perform all the tasks required for this job without having the direct previous experience for it. You see this job entails communication skills. You just have to know how to talk to people. I also know that the company provides a script that all the reps have to follow so even those who haven't mastered the art of the spoken word can complete their assigned duties."
"Where do you see yourself in a year?" Mr. Albert had an ugly smug grin smeared on his face.
You wanna play that game old man, let's play that game then.
"Well, I figured that I can just dress poorly, bullshit my way around for awhile, treat people like shit, act like an arrogant douchebag and work my way up the company, kinda like you did."
"What the fuck?" It's all the poor old middle management guy can utter. The shock factor was clearly too much for him.
Sid got up with briefcase in tow and started to head out the door.
"By the way, this is why your wife left you for a woman and you haven't gotten laid in two years you incompetent sad fuck."
And that was that.
The rest of the day wasn't quite that bad. It wasn't better either. But that was the only outburst he had.
Almost one month ago Sid Valentine was laid off from his work with a note.

Mr. Valentine:
We appreciate your years of dedicated service with us but regretfully we have to dismiss you. Your line of work has not been in demand for awhile now and as you know we have been slowly making other cuts in your department. Should conditions change then we will be contacting you again in a per diem basis.
All the best
The management.

Sid kept the note, even framed it, as a reminder that love all over the world was on hiatus right now. The ones who have already found it are safe. But those who are still seeking it are, as they say it around here, shit out of luck.
You poor humans, you're on your own now.
Without cupid and the others from his department to drop hints, leave messages, and whisper suggestions, there's no telling how people are supposed to find each other and fall in love. There's always the internet dating sites he supposed.
And now here he was - unpaid bills, lonely as hell, turning more cynical as the days pass and no prospects for a new job. He grabbed a cold beer from the fridge, plopped down on the sleeper couch and kicked his shoes off. A little television to numb the brain for awhile. Might as well enjoy it before they cut off his electricity.
The laptop on the coffee table sounds off with a new mail alert. Sid assumed it to be another prompt for a new job posting and he almost deleted it until he saw who it was from.
A cousin he hasn't seen in awhile had sent him an e-mail with the subject line of:
Got a job for you if you're still looking.

He reads the mail, gives his long lost cousin a call and hesitantly takes him up on his offer. Sid had been told as a kid not to mix with that side of the family. They have a history of being troublemakers, creating discord and unrest anywhere and everywhere they went. Leaving a trail of misery since the beginning of time. That was even on their business card. But this is what's in demand these days. Sid was bitter and on the verge of desperation. He surprisingly exceeded in his newly found trade. The guilt and remorse he had felt during the paid training period soon became a thing of the past as the money from the overtime and bonuses kept rolling in. Sid Valentine was even promoted to an executive position.
He celebrated that night in his top level penthouse apartment with a great view of the city. Endless food and drinks kept coming in courtesy of his personal chef and hired servers. His guests were in the main room mingling, dancing, hooking up and having a grand old time. Three women awaited him in his master bedroom. He didn't even need his arrow for that. This was not love. It was something else. And he didn't really care what it was.
Sid had been transformed and he likes what he'd turned into. He stepped out into the balcony for a breath of fresh air. The noise indoors merely a low buzz as he stood near the edge. It felt surprisingly calm; a light breeze blew the ashes off the tip of his half-smoked cigarette. He had never tasted this kind of success and satisfaction with his old job. No fame, no glory, and definitely no money. But this new way of life (all of this and more) - he can get used to. He had a face you can trust and a demeanor to match it and so people were more apt to trust him more than the other agents at Discord Inc. It made it all the more gratifying as he left his own brand of destruction behind everywhere he went.
It felt good to be bad. Valentine wanted more.

He flicked his cigarette off the edge and watched it drop the long way down as he slightly leans over.
"Poor bastards, you're all on your own now," he smiles and looks down at the chaos below.

*****

Sid stood in front of a massive ornate double door which was attached to walls of bricks and stones - a mansion, no, a fortress was more like it. 
He rang the bell and waited.
His head still hurt from the gathering last night. 
The door is opened by a butler who looked slightly confused.
Mr. Butler man steps out, looks around as Sid walks right past him and enters the house. 
The grand foyer was flanked by identical imitation classic sculptures. He can spot a fake like no other. As a young observer he's witnessed the creation of many great works of art.
Sid wastes no time to do the job he came for.
He navigated past the hallways and through rooms as if it were a familiar hangout. He found himself upstairs in a great room with vaulted ceilings, a chandelier dangling at the center, panoramic windows with curtains drawn back, adorned with expensive pretty shiny things and wood furnishings. The bed was equally impressive with a custom made headboard. The detailed hand carved relief on it was striking - leaves and vines swirling about, characters etched and carved in wood that depicted some story, the words Eternal Love the apex of the headboard and right beneath it a winged cherub carrying a bow and a quiver full of arrows - Sid Valentine smiled at the sight of it. The bed itself was dressed in luxurious fabrics and pillows. And in the middle of it all, a middle-aged man, shirtless and probably nude underneath the covers, slept soundly.
There was somebody in the master bath and he followed the sounds of the shower to the right and entered the room. The steam and heat ambushed him as he walked in. A silhouette of a woman behind frosted glass confirmed that he was at the right place. He's seen her before, not too long ago. In fact, he remembers her quite well. Momentarily distracted as he stood there, watching an unsuspecting woman cleanse herself, thoughts of the life he once lived rushed in. He wished he couldn't remember anything at all because it made his line of work a little more difficult. He stepped back out into the main room and waited for the woman to come out. 
The man in bed tossed and turned and muttered something in his sleep. The voice of the guilty leaks out uncontrollably when the person is in a state of relaxation. His cousin taught him that. So far, in his experience, that general rule hasn't failed him yet. 
The woman stepped out of the master bath and into the main room with a plush white robe on, hair still dripping wet. 
Sid comes up from behind and grabs her by the shoulders. 
The woman remained calm but confused as to why she just stood there stopped in her tracks. She turns her head slightly to look behind and sees nothing.
Sid leans forward and whispers something into her ears. 
The woman heads towards the huge walk-in closet where a brand name travel suitcase rested on its side. It's been there, left undisturbed after Mr. Butler man brought it up as instructed by her husband who had just returned late last night from a week-long business trip abroad. She crouched down and tried to undo the double zippers but a combination lock stopped her efforts.
Sid said the numbers aloud as she entered it. Her face was blank; almost in a hypnotic state as she obediently did what Sid told her to do. 
She lifts the top open, exposing the contents of the suitcase. She pulled out and tossed the clothing to the side revealing a bottom layer of nothing but electronics. A small camcorder, some wires and cords, a tri-pod and a laptop. 
She had never seen this laptop before, in fact, he keeps his usual one in the briefcase but she was never allowed to use it because he didn't want her messing with his work and his files. Come to think of it, she never really knew what kind of work he did. He just always told her that he was in media and she never questioned it. What did she care what he did? She lived in a big beautiful house and spent money she didn't earn, buying things she wanted and some just because. Comfort can enslave you. That's another thing Sid learned, but not from his cousin. This one, he found out for himself.
It appears to be fully charged as she flips it open. 
She seems to know exactly what she was looking for as she clicks on a folder with a lock icon on its upper right corner. 
It's password protected.
Sid whispered something dirty in her ears. 
A dirty phrase that she never would have come up with on her own.
She was the type of woman that didn't mind to do dirty things but is reluctant to say it out loud. Sid was always fascinated by that aspect of her personality. Human beings are pretty funny and strange creatures to watch. You think you have them all figured out one day then the next they throw you off balance, keeping him on his toes, or off it, depending on who you ask. 
She types the words into the little gray box that popped up and anxiously awaited even though she knew that combination would give her complete access to the other side of the puzzle. She felt a form of rush and excitement as she did all of this, knowing fully well that it would infuriate her husband when he finds out...
Then she came across and opened a subfolder with nothing but video files.
She clicked the first one and watched in shock as it all played out in front of her.
The audio was muted but the imagery says it all. 
She finished watching the first one which was about 15 minutes in length from start to end then clicked on the one after that, and then the one after that. Sid must have stood there for close to an hour watching her while the old man snored and muttered on in the other room.
The videos starred her husband in sexual situations with men and women sometimes both at the same time and in one video a group of them. Amateur porn, done via hidden camera from the looks of it. Who knows how many more of these he had stashed away? Oh god, could she be in one of these videos? She hadn't even thought of that avenue. All of a sudden she felt sick and dirty. 
They've been married for a decade and he's been out of town so many times.
Even when he's here, he goes off on weekend trips at least once a month, she thought to herself only this time she actually said it out loud.
The man stirred in the other room.
Sid had to get the ball rolling if he were to get this job done right.
He whispered something again to the woman who was now sobbing as she sat on the floor, the videos still streaming content in front of her. She couldn't peel her eyes off of it.
Sid spoke a little louder this time which seemed to work as she wiped her tears away and stood up. She headed to the far end of the closet and dug around in one of the built-in drawers. She pulled out an unmarked hard silver case and entered the combination (thanks to Sid). She held a blackened alloy compact pistol in her hands now, loaded and ready for use. 
Sid held her back for a second and had a few words with her. 
She stepped out of the closet and walked towards his side of the bed. The old man slept still, curled up on his side and snoring loudly. Drool glistened from the corner of his mouth. He wasn't muttering in his sleep anymore. He was now moaning softly and writhing. Sid had seen this many times before. Human physiology dictates that he is in the midst of an erotic subconscious experience. This sick fuck was having a wet dream. 
That about seals the deal for Sid as he spoke to the woman again. 
"Are you ready?" he asked as he stepped up from behind, closer to her.
"Yes." She answered, not knowing who she was speaking to and why she said the word.
Sid turned his attention to the man on the bed.
"Wake up."
The man stirred, as he opened his eyes. Slightly squinting due to the sunlight beaming from the outside of his fortress and bursting in through the floor-to-ceiling windows that surrounded his room. Sunrays caught the crystal beads of the chandelier which made it twinkle.
The man's vision finally focused in on the person in front of him recognizing it to be his wife who happens to be pointing his very own loaded gun at him. Then he saw a figure standing right behind her. A stranger with aviator shades on. He saw himself in the reflection on the unknown man's sunglasses, his own face a mask of fear and panic. 
Then came a flash.
In just a second it was over.
The woman set the gun on the side table and walked back into the master bath. Sid remained where he stood.
She was standing in the shower naked and motionless, watching the blood that splattered on her, drip down her arms. She had to wash the filth off of her. 
Sid was already midway down the stairs when Mr. Butler man rushed past him. 
He exited the house and decided he was going to walk instead of drive. He saw a nice vintage muscle car parked right around the corner earlier on his way in. Tempting, but it was a beautiful day outside, too warm for his overcoat but fuck it, he felt sexy wearing it so the coat stays on. He checks his watch (a habit he picked up from hanging around humans), and it indicates that it's 12:01PM.
Just in time for beer and sushi. Not that he needed nourishment, of course. It just tasted good.
His ringer goes off (a classic rock song plays), and he answers after 3 rings. 
"Hey, did you get it done?" His cousin Lenny is on the other end of the line, checking up on him as usual.
"Yep, all done, gonna get some food."
"You and your fixation, I wish you'd quit that shit."
"What? Sushi and beer? What can I say, I've developed a craving for it, besides, what's it to you anyway?"
"Quit fucking around Sid. You know what I mean. Quit trying to act human, it's not good for ya. One more thing, you shouldn't even be doing field work anymore, you've got pee-ons to do that for you now. Or have you forgotten about your promotion?"
"Yeah, I know. Had to this myself, it's a personal matter."
"Ah shit, you're hopeless Sid. If you weren't family, I swear, I'd kill you myself."
"I'd like to see you try."
"Talk to you later Valentine."
"Later Lenny."
The cops were already there. Two patrol cars screeched right past him and onto the semi-circular driveway of the house he had just left behind. He continued to walk; the sushi joint was not too far off from where he was. Now that the hit was out of the way, he had the rest of the day to do as he pleased. 
Sid Valentine whistled an old tune as he strolled, the sound of the gun going off still echoed-ringing in his ears. The sirens from the police cars faded as he turned the corner and walked on.

END.

R. Van Saint writes cross-genre stories consisting elements of horror/dark fiction/science-fiction/fantasy/thrillers. 
First short story collection forthcoming in 2010.
Currently working on two novels.
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