Heartkiller

Saturday, November 2, 2013

It was around 2 am in a quieter part of New York City; the November night was hazy with dark clouds looming over the city streets. The couple, caught in a heated argument, was returning home from the tour wrap party. It was just after the Tears on Tape album, and Ville had been gone almost 3 months for promotion during the summer festival season. He had returned only a few hours ago, and Avery was ecstatic to finally be with him again. The boys had thrown a small party to celebrate the success of the tour, although it was mainly an excuse to be drinking. The couple remained sober however: Ville had been clean for several years now, and Avery preferred not to be drinking around Ville.

Her midnight blue dress hung loosely over her curves, and Ville was sure to adulate her on it several times over the course of the event. He was dressed in a pair of slacks, Sabbath shirt, leather jacket, skinny black scarf, and beanie. Her only comments had been to note how much of a fanboy he was, which he had taken as a compliment. It was in tune with their usual ways; Avery and Ville were heart-wrenchingly adorable together, always doting on each other and sneaking kisses. Right now, they were not that lovey-dovey couple. No, right now, they were at each other's throats.

As the cab driver pulled into the intersection to make a left, a Jeep ran a red light and slammed into the taxi from the left, pushing the small vehicle against the traffic pole at the adjacent corner. Avery gasped and Ville's eyes widened. The impact of the crash reverberated through the silence of the night. Ville was paralyzed in shock; his body had been pushed against the side door, which had made contact with the traffic pole. His body coursed with adrenaline, masking any pain he may have felt. From appearances, it seemed as though Avery was in shock as well. She mumbled something unintelligible but remained otherwise frozen. Avery was blocked by the metal of the two cars, and her window had shattered, leaving bits of glass over her body. The cab driver had also been hit by the Jeep, but the majority of the damage was towards Avery.

Within minutes, paramedics had arrived to aid the victims. The driver of the other car was protected by the might of his vehicle and remained unscathed. The firefighters set to work to free Avery. Meanwhile, paramedics took the unresponsive Ville onto a gurney and put him in the ambulance. As he started to come to, he began to worry.

"Ave...Ave!" He said in a voice hardly above a whisper.

"We got her, we got her," an EMT reassured.

Overwhelmed by the flurry of beeps and flashing lights, Ville waned in and out of consciousness. By the time the ambulance reached the hospital, Ville was unconscious. His breath was even, though his heartbeat was faint. The medical officials set to work to rebuild his vitals.

Meanwhile, Avery was caught in a mess. The impact of the accident had caused her door to crumble and formed a bubble around Avery; the door trapped her legs and left arm between the metal of the door and the seat of the cab driver in front of her. She couldn’t be freed from the other side of the cab, where Ville had been sitting, because the paramedics couldn’t untangle her from that angle. They had no choice but to remove her door, which was easier said than done. First, the Jeep was moved out of the way. Then, the EMTs had to prevent further damage to her legs by containing any open wounds from which blood could flow. While doing so, one of the paramedics tried to talk to her and guide her through the process.

“Ma’am, can you hear me? I’m just going to hold your legs nice and tight, alright? You’re going to be okay, I just need you to stay with me. Ma’am? Ma’am, can you hear me?” he urged.

Avery wasn’t responding. The paramedic checked to see if she was breathing, which she wasn’t. He checked her heartbeat, which was faint and almost nonexistent.

“Yo, we gotta hurry,” he warned. “She’s not breathing, and her heartbeat is almost gone. We need her out.”

“We’re working on it!” a firefighter replied.

Using hydraulic rescue tools, or the Jaws of Life as they were commonly called, firefighters pulled the car door off the vehicle. Avery’s body was limp, but she was put on a gurney and rushed to the hospital nonetheless. On the way, the paramedics tried to stabilize her heartbeat and regain her breathing. Another paramedic was working a tourniquet over her thighs to stop blood flow to the legs and prevent further blood loss. However, it was too late. She had gone into cardiac arrest.

“Paddles!” One paramedic yelled to another, who handed them over immediately.

They performed defibrillation methods in order to resuscitate her. They had three minutes to revive her before she would have brain damage, and they hurried to bring her back. They were in front of the hospital when the three minutes were finished, and Avery was still not resuscitated. There was nothing left for them to do.


Sunday, November 3, 2013

When he awoke the next morning, Ville had little recollection of the previous night's events. He was surrounded by white walls, but it was the scent that confirmed his suspicions: he was in the hospital. He was very confused about why he was here. Save for a very sore shoulder, he felt fine. The machines around him reflected his escalating heartbeat and labored breathing as his body reacted to the unusual surroundings; a nurse soon appeared by his side to calm him down.

"Shh, it's gonna be okay. You're gonna be just fine." She assuaged. "The doctor will come by to check on you in just a minute."

"What happened? Why am I here?" He asked urgently.

"The doctor will explain everything."

Once Ville was calm, she left the room, and he settled back into the bed. He sighed. He was dazed and wanted answers. He wasn't even sure what part of the country he was in; he barely deduced he was in the US because of the nurse's English, devoid of any foreign accent. That's as much as he had gathered.

"Hello, I’m Dr. Jackman, and I’ll be checking up on you. How are you doing today?" The doctor asked as he walked inside.

He had his stethoscope resting on his shoulders and the standard white coat. His black hair was short and slicked back, and he had a million-dollar smile. He had grey eyes and a jawline so sharp that it could cut glass. The doctor took the clipboard from the end of Ville’s bed and grazed through the details.

"I've been better. Incredibly confused." Ville replied.

"Things will be cleared up for you soon enough.” he said with a reassuring smile. “And how's the pain? On a scale of one to ten, with ten being unbearable."

"Uhh, I'd say a four."

"Alright, four is good. We can work with that...” Dr. Jackman made a few notes on Ville’s papers before continuing. “Now, let's check your breathing. Are you able to sit up?"

"Yeah, I think so."

Ville brought his torso up and eased into a sitting position. The doctor adjusted the bed accordingly so that Ville could rest his back, if he needed to. He put on his stethoscope, and held the end with his left hand, while his right supported Ville's back.

"Breathe in, nice and big," he instructed.

Ville obeyed while the doctor check his lungs.

"Hold it, hold it...okay, and exhale...alright, everything looks okay. Your asthma seems pretty bad; how often do you need to use your inhaler?"

He continued to make notes on Ville’s file as he asked questions.

"Not too often. I rarely get any attacks...only when I'm really nervous. I've got smoker's lungs though, so that's why-"

“I see...you should probably lay off the cigarettes," the doctor half-joked.

"Yeah, I know." Ville smiled.

"Alright, physically, you seem okay, aside from the lungs. A bruised shoulder is going to hurt and be sore, but nothing too serious. I just have a couple of questions to check your mental awareness. So, what's your name?"

"Ville Valo."

"When is your birthday?"

"22nd of November 1976."

"What year is it?"

"2013."

"What did you do yesterday?"

"Uhh, I...I can't seem to remember."

"Okay, that's okay. Don't worry. What's the last thing you do remember?"

"Umm, I played a show with my band...somewhere in Pennsylvania, I think. It was the last show of
our tour, and uh-"

The door opened and the rest of the band started to walk inside. Ville’s eyes shifted to meet their presence, and he was comforted to know that his loved ones were nearby.

"Excuse me, no visitors just yet. Please wait outside, and I'll be right with you." The doctor interrupted.

The boys left again and waited outside by the door.

"Alright, you were on tour. What were you going to do next?" Dr. Jackman asked.

"Head back to the hotel. We had a flight out to New York the next morning."

Ville’s memory was lucid until this point. After that, he was hazy. He had no clue what had happened after the show. Did he fall off the stage? Is that why he was here? Did he make it to the hotel?

"Okay, I see."

The doctor ran a few simple tests to check his vitals and brain function, which seemed to be fine.

"Okay, everything looks good. It seems like you have a little amnesia, but, since everything else is normal, I'm not too worried about it. I know that it can be disconcerting not to know what happened the past few days, but your reaction is normal for your circumstances. Your memories should come back soon; it's different for everybody, but it can take anywhere from a few days to a couple weeks. Now, I'm gonna prescribe some mild medications to cope with the pain of the physical injuries. I'll keep you here for a few hours for observation, but if everything goes smoothly, you should be discharged in time for dinner."

"Okay, thank you."

Ville wasn’t really listening to everything that the doctor had said. More than his physical well-being, Ville just wanted to know what happened and figure out where in the world he was. Seeing as Dr. Jackman wasn’t likely to sit down and walk him through everything that had happened, Ville was more interested in rushing this doctor out of the door and talking to his bandmates. Hopefully, they would be able to tell him what had happened and reel him out of his confusion.

"No problem."

The doctor returned Ville's chart to the foot of his bed after making a few notes and left the room. He closed the door behind him in order to talk to Ville’s guests privately. He saw them waiting patiently, though eagerly, to find out in what condition their dear friend was.

"How is he, doctor?" Mige asked with his thick Finnish accent.

"It's nothing too serious. He has a pretty badly bruised shoulder, which should heal rather quickly. He has episodic amnesia; that means that he remembers things about his identity and other facts , but events which took place over the past few days aren’t very clear for him. His body is just trying to protect itself, so it's overcompensating. Once he feels okay, he should be back to normal and remember these things. He recalls performing his last show of a tour, but that's about it. You're welcome to tell him about what brought him here, but please refrain from any shocking news that could upset him."

"So, we shouldn't tell him about Avery." Gas stated.

"No… if he were to find out his wife were dead, it would potentially be catastrophic. Don't lie to him, but keep your answers about her vague until later, perhaps until after he has adjusted to his injuries. Additionally, he shouldn’t be alone, at least until he knows what has happened to his wife. It is possible that he may remember the accident, putting him over the edge and causing him to make rash decisions. Until he knows, it would be best for him to live in the company of others."

"Okay."

"Again, I'm really sorry for your loss. We have specialists here if you need someone to talk to."

"Thank you, doctor." Mige said.

The doctor continued on his rounds, and the boys went inside to talk to Ville. Toni, Linde's fiancee, and Natali, Gas' wife, had also joined them.

"Hey." Ville greeted.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Toni asked.

"I'm okay. I'll recover."

His eyes scanned the room. One person was noticeably absent from the crowd of people that had come to see him.

"Where's Avery?" Ville asked.

"She's...she’s out of town. We can't get a hold of her." Mige said.

"Oh...what happened? I remember playing that show, and going backstage but that's about it...where are we? Why am I in the hospital?"

"We're in New York. We flew back a few days ago.”

"You were in a car accident last night," Burton said.

"With who?" Ville asked.

There was a short pause as people scrambled to think of something to say. Gas quickly filled the silence so that Ville wouldn’t suspect anything.

"The doctor said you can be discharged later today. Why don't you stay with us for a few days?" Gas deflected.

"No, that's okay. I'll just go home...Ave should be home soon anyway."

"No, no, I insist. I've already readied a room for you to stay in. Until you're better, stay with us." Natali convinced.

It was more of a statement than a question; Ville knew better than to try and argue with her, so he complied.

“Okay, I will.”

"Good."


That evening, Ville had been discharged and Natali and Gas had picked him up to take him home. As she had said, Natali had a room prepared for him. The couple was staying in New York temporarily for a project Natali was working on. They had rented the apartment for 6 months and would be returning to Helsinki in 3 weeks.

"I'll leave you to get settled in." she said.

"Thank you. Would you mind if I used your phone? I just want to call Ave and talk to her; she's glued to her Blackberry, so I’m sure I can get a hold of her." Ville asked as he took off his coat and set it on the bed.

Gas had stopped by Ville's apartment to pack a bag for his stay. The duffel sat in the corner of the room, and Ville rummaged through it to check if he needed anything else. Natali hesitated. She called to her husband for help.

"Honey, can you come here a minute?!"

"What do you need, sweetie?" He asked when he came over.

"Ville is asking about Avery..."

"Oh...” he was silent as he tried to formulate the best way to deliver the news. “Ville, you know, you should probably sit down for this."

Ville had been preoccupied looking through his bag, so he couldn’t detect the hesitation with which the two spoke. He had been facing the wall, and he turned from his position on the floor to face the couple.

"What's wrong?"

"Sit." Gas said once more.

His eyes darted around the room, and he struggled to maintain eye contact. He didn’t want to be the one to have to tell him what had happened. Ville got up and sat on the bed. He raised his eyebrows to signal them to go on.

Gas started to explain: "Ville, last night, you were on your way home with Avery, and a car came from the side and crashed into your cab...you were able to make it because you were on the other side, but...Avery was hit-"

Ville's breath audibly hitched in his throat.

"And she wasn't as lucky. The other vehicle hit her side pretty hard, and it took the firefighters 20 minutes to get her out of the mess. By then," Gas broke eye contact and looked at the wall. "By then, it was too late. She had lost an awful lot of blood, and there was nothing the doctors could do."
Ville knew what that meant, but he needed to hear the words. He couldn't believe it until he heard the words explicitly.

"...What are you saying?" Ville sputtered out.

"She's gone...Avery's dead. I'm sorry, Ville. I'm really sorry," Gas said.

Natali covered her mouth with her hand to muffle the sob she was about to let out. Ville sat with his eyes wide open in disbelief. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. He cleared his throat.

“Can I -- Can I please be alone?” he whispered.

“We’re right here if you need anything,” Natali said as they left the room.

His lips stretched into a thin line. He looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting the salty tears hit his lips as they fell to the floor. Looking around the room, he sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. It all felt very surreal to him, and he hoped that he could shake himself to wake from this nightmare. He couldn’t believe it. The woman he loved, with whom he fully intended to spend the rest of his life, was gone. She had been ripped from the world too soon. He looked to see his fists clenching the sheets of the bed; he let them go and instead opted for the only thing that had the potential to bring him solace: his guitar.

Ville walked out of the room and went to the balcony, guitar in one hand and a box of smokes in the other. He sat on one of the chairs and leaned back. He brushed the tears away using the sleeve of his good shoulder, but it was useless as the tears continued to fall. With a lit cigarette in his mouth, he strummed soft melodies into the night. It was a very cathartic process as he was much more skilled in expressing himself through music than through words. It was enough in the past, but Ville wasn’t quite sure it would suffice given the current circumstances.

He aimlessly played the music and stared up at the night sky, trying to wrap his head around the news. Ville sat and played the guitar for a few minutes, but he couldn’t get lost in the harmonies as easily as he usually could. How could he? Of course he couldn’t stay calm right now. Hot tears fell down his cheeks, and he tightly gripped the guitar in anger and frustration. He stood up and paced across the balcony, staring down at the streets which were 27 floors below him. Even at this hour, the streets were filled with people hustling from place to place.

Avery used to be one of those people.

She was an attorney for Sterling-Ellis, one of the top law firms in New York. Avery was always a busy person with so much conviction in her duties; she put everything she had into all of her cases, becoming such a good ‘closer’ that she had recently been promoted to senior partner at the firm. Along with the title came a heavier workload, but she was able to make time for Ville. She didn’t let him forget that he mattered, and he did the same for her. She was an incredible inspiration for him, and he provided an unprecedented sense of purpose for her. Ville challenged her to be better, further stimulating her inherent drive to succeed. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of peace when she around.

Now, he felt lost.

He stood staring down below with his guitar hanging by his side. Avery was the only one who could have possibly helped him in this time of need. Ville was overwhelmed by his frustrations, and he threw his guitar against the wall that separated the balcony from the neighbor’s. The instrument shattered and he began to kick it feverishly while banging his fist against the wall as he cried. Suddenly, an idea sprung to mind, albeit a foolish one. At the thought, he wiped away his tears.

Ville leaned against the railing, peering over its edge. He smiled. He brought his right foot up and tried to sit on the railing. As he brought his other leg over, a strong arm wrapped around his torso and brought him down.

“No, Ville, stop!” Gas said.

Ville stared helplessly at him. He was hopeless. Natali was by his side and hugged him close, letting him cry into her shoulder.

He was hopeless.