Hi! I hope you all enjoy this brief update. It is in keeping with the whole OPA side of the story, as they are the ones solving our dear Olivia's murder. I'm really trying to make this sequence of events as seamless and easy to follow as possible. If you've any questions/ comments in regards to the story. Ask away in the review or my inbox!

-The Artist, The Thief-

He wasn't doing very well. Not well at all. Huck did not like small spaces. He didn't enjoy being cooped up or kept in confinement. He didn't do well in jail. On the outside, he appeared to be completely undisturbed. It was his insides, though. His insides were screaming at him- murderer, killer, psycho, thief. He stole from people. Just like the government had taken things from him, Huck had taken things from others. He had never let guilt get to him- not at least, until he was forced to meet his shame, his crime, day in and day out. He stole from people by torturing them slowly, and this was how he did it:

First, he stole their consciousness by way of injection. Some of his victims screamed out, most weren't quick enough, though. He stole his victims' sleeping forms, stole their ability to move, tying them up just in case. They'd wake up in a tarp, sprawled like birds roasted for Thanksgiving. Then, he'd steal their voices with duct tape over their mouths. He'd carefully select a weapon of his choice as they would watch on with horror in their eyes. A knife or a drill maybe. Something subtle, elegant, classic. A brief introduction:

'Hi, you can call me Huck. I'll be torturing you today.'

Muffled screaming.

Next, the Artist- and Huck was an artist in the sense that he didn't so much destroy as he did create with his craft- would steal their secrets. He'd rip the secrets, the invaluable intelligence, from his victims either willingly or unwillingly. Their bodies were often left in a heap of mangy carnage. That was another thing he stole, blood. Gallons and gallons of blood over the years, from the stomach, the liver, the heart. It was ugly, doing what he did. The government's garbage man, only paid better.

After his work was done, Huck wrapped up their bodies, and stole away into the night. And he couldn't quite remember where he'd go after all was finished. It was a long time ago. He figured he probably wouldn't have wanted to remember.

He liked his job. He fed off the power. He revelled in the control. Huck took to torturing people like a moth to a flame. He had talent and artistry and skill. So naturally, he was hopeless from the start. And nobody, nobody walks away from that life. B613er's don't just walk away from the job, and become nurses or school teachers or firefighters or state senators, the stay killers. They find their commission from someone else, and they keep blood on their hands. They never lose the drive. They never stop killing, in their wildest fantasies, in their nightmares. They kill. And if Huck was truly a killer, when asked to carry out a task, he would not fail. When asked, when ordered, when commanded to kill, Huck could-would pull through.

Charlie made Huck into what he was. Charlie was there from the beginning. Huck was vulnerable, then. Charlie knew that, and he abused that, and he stole from Huck. No matter how hard Huck tried, he could never find himself again. He was changed, halved. Charlie came to see Huck almost everyday while he was in jail because he understood the nature of a killer being one himself. Charlie messed with Huck's mind everyday knowing full-well what that kind of damage it could instill. He loved it. Life, death, Washington, it was all big game to him.

December 23, 2012-

"Merry Christmas, everybody." Abby said, popping the glimmering disc into the machine. There was a pathetic fluorescent holiday tree glowing in the corner of the room and everything smelled a bit like rancid cinnamon.

"You got 'em?" Quinn asked.

"Oh yeah, and they are good." she replied. "New guy," she gestured to Casey, "you can give me that coffee and take a seat, please. I want everybody to watch this."

"So, I take it the video feed from that night was informative?" Emma interjected, sitting down at the OPA's round table.

Harrison, Quinn, Casey and Emma were all seated at the table while Abby stood, remote in hand.

/

Earlier that day, she had gone down to the Brightwood Hotel down the street from Pope & Associates to pay Mr. Shuman a visit. Mr. Shuman was head of surveillance at Brightwood and thankfully, very, very naive. Outside of the hotel was a camera facing the street, and it had a direct line of sight to the front doors of OPA's building. With no side entrances, the killer would have had to have walked in and out of those doors that night. But because of the high sensitivity of the footage, Abby wasn't able to get a hold of the tapes right away. Abby had reviewed the footage from June 11, 2012.

Everybody at OPA knew in their hardest of hearts that their co-worker, their loyal friend was innocent. Huck loved Olivia, everybody did, and he wouldn't have- couldn't have, killed her. The only problem was, Huck wasn't talking to anyone at all.

"He must have been so traumatized, finding her the way she was," they all thought.

"No wonder he's not talking. If that had been me, well, I've no idea what i would do." they said, shaking their heads.

"How do we help him?"

It was like trying to find a way to catch smoke with your bare hands. Only one person could fix Huck, and she was just a puddle of blood on the floor now.

When the police arrived at the scene mere moments after the act, they had found Huck on the floor and incoherent. He held Olivia's ensanguined form in his arms. He shook, and shivered, he rocked her as if she were only sleeping. There was no reviving Olivia Pope once the authorities had come. She was gone. The life she had carried inside of herself, purged and too, stolen.

He believed her last thoughts were of her, of the motherless child she borne.

He never articulated much after that day. It was unfortunate to watch the words go.

"Shameful." they all conquered.

/

The question for them all was since Huck didn't kill Olivia, who did? Who could have? A few names did come up, but it wasn't until Abby found the surveillance footage that day when the pieces had begun to come together for them. Sitting around the table, a consensus was met

"It was-" Quinn started.

"Yeah." Harrison said equally shocked.

Quinn clicked her tongued,"How could we not have known th-"

"Oh, come on. We were all thinking it," Abby interjected.

"- But nobody wanted to say it out loud." said Harrison.

"It was too obvious."

"Exactly."

"Obvious? Obvious doesn't even start up. We need a new word for it."

This kind of technical handiwork, to loop the same video feed for the whole day of June the 11, that idea could only come from someone determined to fly under the radar, to go undetected. Someone skilled enough to know that people don't pay close enough attention when view those video feeds.

In the video, Huck was seen wearing a thick coat and winter boots. And when he was booked that night, his clothes were stained with Olivia's blood. Olivia died in June. He wore a lightweight t-shirt and cargo on the night she died. But the time of night that Huck was seen entering the OPA building corresponded with the police's story. That was the give away, the smoking gun.

Their suspect messed with the tapes in a hotel across the street to cover their own tracks. Their killer was thorough. A Government Issued assassin.

"And we're sure it's him?" Quinn questioned.

"With motive and opportunity, plus his whereabouts were never once accounted for. I'd say it's him. I'd say he's our guy." Abby said definitively.

"But, why again? I mean, what's the motive?" Emma asked, perking up.

"Because, all of this spy stuff, it's just a game to some of them. And this guy, our killer, the one that screwed with these tapes, he's a sore loser."

"So it was revenge?" Casey inquired.

"A little revenge, but mostly redemption."

"So it wasn't about Ms. Pope?"

"No," Harrison answered quietly, his mind had since left the conference room.

"It was about him." Abby pointed to the screen.

"Jesus Christ." they sighed, watching the tape on a loop.

Please don't spear me! I know, I know you want the cuteness, and Evie isn't gone, we just had to uncover a bit of the mystery, a bit of the messy stuff in these past couple of chapters. Everything about Olivia's death has been a total mystery to the audience so far, but now you know more! More is good, right? Well, either way, I'll be writing so much more and I can't wait for y'all to read and review!