Smoothen Silky vs The WereCougar

by Derek Slaton

  “When we get back to Thorn’s, we’ve got to call Baptiste,” the redhead said.

  “First things first,” Silky interjected. “We’s gotta get this Ezra mofo off the street before he be doin’ any real damage.”

  “Sorry Kerr, we’ll get to you,” Rose promised.

  “Don’t you be worryin’ about that dainty doily, he be aight.” Silky waved his hand dismissively. “Stay focused on the task at hand.”

  After what felt like hours, a loud snap from the backseat broke the silence. Silky and Rose turned around to see Kerr sitting there with a long chunk of crimson nail in his hand.

  “Looks like I broke a nail,” he said with a grin, and the other two Agents sighed as they turned back to face the front of the car. He rolled down the window and chucked the busted piece out onto the sidewalk, but upon turning back to his hand the broken nail had magically repaired itself. “That could be useful,” he muttered. “Hey Rose, you have a nail file?”

  She rummaged in her purse and produced a nail file, passing it back to him. Kerr spent the next half hour filing his new claws down to sharp points. He admired his new weapons, wiggling them in front of his face, as Rose perked up from the passenger seat.

  “We got him,” she said.

  “You sure it’s him?” Kerr leaned forward, careful not to stab anything.

  “If it’s not, he has a doppelgänger,” Rose replied.

  “Bout goddamn time,” Silky declared. “Aight, let’s go wipe the floor with him so Silky can be hittin’ the clubs.”

  The trio stepped out of the Cadillac and stretched their legs and arms, then headed up to the front door. Silky stood in front of the door in his form fitting blue suit, golf club resting on his shoulder, Rose and Kerr flanking him.

  He kicked the door in and stepped through, taking a beat to pose, hand on his hip, before pointing his club at the pack of demons on the other side of the room. “Aight, which one of you motherfuckers wants to die first?” he asked loudly.

  Rose stepped in to the left, extending her baton with a shink, demon blade in the opposite hand. Kerr moved in to the right, flexing his claw hand.

  “Who wants to know?” A twenty-something male demon stepped forward out of the group. He looked like he would have been at home in the back of a gaming shop being Dungeon Master to a Dungeons and Dragons campaign. It was Ezra.

  “Silky be takin’ offense at yo stupidity,” the pimp replied, raising an eyebrow.

  “Ah, you must be the assholes that took out my hive last night,” Ezra said, connecting the dots. “No matter, those demons are a dime a dozen. Just means that more innocent lives are going to be lost thanks to your actions. My summoning powers are growing by the day, and there’s nothing you can do that will stop me.”

  “Well, you’s be sayin’ that.” Silky smirked, and hit the button on his 9-iron to eject the blades. He whipped it like an axe, end over end, and it embedded in an unsuspecting demon’s chest.

  Ezra shrugged, seemingly unfazed. “Just one more I get to replace,” he said, a huge smile erupting on his face as he began to chant in a foreign language. It was guttural and lilting, with an ominous tone that caused the hairs to stand up on the back of Kerr’s neck.

  “Rose, what’s he trying to summon?” he asked.

  “Don’t know, but I’m not going to wait to find out,” Rose replied, and leapt into battle. She drew two demons away from the group, both diving forward to attack her at the same time. She sidestepped and slammed her knife into a temple, eliciting a blood gurgling moan before her victim collapsed and slowly disintegrated.

  The other demon lunged into a backhand, and Rose ducked, punching her opponent directly in the knee. She spun with the momentum as he knelt, catching him in the side of the head with her baton. She retrieved her knife from the puddle of demon goo next to her and buried it in the chest of her stunned enemy.

  Meanwhile, Kerr brandished his ruby claws, wiggling his fingers with a smirk. His enemies simply laughed, one of them motioning to the ridiculous-looking hand.

  “What are you gonna do, scratch us to death?” one demon taunted him, and stepped forward to make a grab for the Agent’s wrist. Kerr jabbed forward, all five of his razor sharp nails stabbing his opponent right through the heart. Blood poured down over his hand and he wrenched it violently to the side, breaking all of the nails.

  The demon fell to his knees, and Kerr spun into a roundhouse kick, boot landing directly on the jagged cluster of nails. The demon fell backwards, a shocked and confused look on his face as he ceased all movement.

  A second demon stepped forward with a growl, and Kerr held up his claw hand again, ready to go with fresh nails.

  “Come on big boy, get some,” he purred, and his opponent lunged forward. The Agent slashed his face on his way by, and the building shook violently, causing them all to waver with the sudden movement.

  Silky stepped up behind his own opponent, who had turned his back with the earthquake, and casually snapped his neck.

  “Come on now, don’t do Silky like that,” the pimp commiserated as the claw-slashed demon scurried away in the confusion. “Expectin’ a workout and not even be gettin’ a warmup.”

  As if on cue, Ezra finished his chanting and slammed his fist into the floor. The wood cracked apart and giant fingers curled up from between, grabbing the wood to pull itself up. The smell wafting up from the hole was enough to make Kerr gag, and he staggered closer to Silky, eyes wide as a seven foot tall decaying ogre emerged from the hole.

  “Well, if you wanted a workout, here you go,” Ezra teased with a wave, and retreated into the back room.

  “Fuck me,” Rose breathed, stepping closer to Silky as he readied his 9-iron. “Ideas?” she asked as the muscular zombie grunted, casting more of it’s putrid scent their way.

  “Silky gonna be sweepin’ the leg like he’s Johnny Goddamn Lawrence,” the pimp explained. “Once this big bitch is on the ground, Silky be hopin’ that blade of yours works.” He tightened his hand around the handle of the club, and nodded to his two companions. “Well come on now, Silky’s got shit to be doin’.”

  The ogre opened it’s moldy maw in a wet roar, and lumbered forward, swinging a heavy arm at the pimp. Silky dropped to his knees and slid along the floor, using every bit of force he could muster to swing at its knee. The club bounced off like it was made of plastic, and did little more than to agitate the grotesque demon.

  The ogre send a fist down towards Silky, who rolled out of the way to narrowly avoid being tenderized. He dodged two more blows, but ran out of momentum against one of the walls. Kerr jumped up onto the beast’s back, grabbing a fistful of its matted hair so he could repeatedly stab and break his claws. The ogre reached back to try to grab his new assailant, but Kerr didn’t let up.

  Silky used the distraction to pop the blade on the 9-iron and sliced with a precise strike at the base of his legs, severing both the demon’s achilles. Kerr leapt to the floor as the ogre fell to its knees, its back resembling a porcupine with all of the bright red quills sticking out of its back.

  Rose came down on the back of the ogre’s head with all of the strength she could muster, and then straightened up as it stopped moving but didn’t immediately dissolve.

  “Shouldn’t this asshole be melting right now?” Kerr inquired.

  “I’ve never used it on a zombie ogre before,” Rose mused. “Not sure what’s supposed to happen.” Boils began to rapidly form along the demon’s skin, and then rapidly grew, bursting and sending streams of pus through the air. The Agents looked at each other for a beat and then dove for cover as more geysers of goo flew. The entire creature exploded in an impressive array of thick slime, covering the walls in demon gunk.

  “Silky is very glad he opted to keep his jacket in the car for this one,” Silky commented as he strolled back through the puddle towards the far door.

  “Let’s go get this asshole before he summons something else,” Rose said, and the trio moved towards the back ro
om.

  Ezra’s scream permeated the thick air, and they burst into the back to see his legs sticking out from beneath the form of a woman in a leopard print onesie.

  “Holy shit,” Kerr blurted at the sight of a head of puffy black hair, “I think that’s the woman who attacked me.”

  “Takes a brave ass cracka to be admittin’ to getting his ass beat by a woman,” Silky said with a grin, and then rolled his eyes at Rose’s noise of disapproval. “Baby, Silky knows yo balls be bigger than any man. Silky notwithstanding o’ course.”

  “Damn right,” the redhead confirmed.

  “What the fuck did you do to me, you bitch?!” Kerr cried shrilly, and the woman whipped around with lightning fast speed. She held Ezra’s heart in one hand and his head in the other, fingers in his eye sockets and mouth like a bowling ball. Her eyes glowed yellow as she fixated on Kerr, and her red painted mouth grew into a massive grin.

  “Ah, my protoge returns,” she purred. “You ready to come home with mama so she can teach you a thing or two?”

  “Fucking hell, it’s a WereCougar,” Rose breathed.

  “What the hell is a WereCougar?” Kerr exclaimed.

  “It’s what she is,” the redhead replied, motioning to their new opponent.

  “Well, how do we kill her?” Kerr asked impatiently.

  Rose shrugged. “Not a fucking clue.”

  “Silky be havin’ an idea,” Silky piped up, and before anyone could react, he whipped his 9-iron, blade out, at neck level. It flew like a spinning lawnmower blade, and sliced right through the WereCougar’s neck.

  She dropped what she was holding with a sly grin, the expression an eerie contrast as her head flopped backwards off of her body. The rest of her crumpled to the ground and Silky spread his arms, spinning around to take a bow.

  “Whoo!” He punched the air in triumph. “Silky done fucked that bitch up worse than menopause did.”

  “Uh, Silky,” Kerr said, tone laced with warning as the WereCougar’s decapitated body began to rise to it’s stiletto-booted feet.

  “Not now, Vanilla Thunda, can’t you see Silky be struttin’?” The pimp put his hands behind his head and rolled his hips suggestively.

  “Silky,” Rose put in, pointing behind him, but he ignored her, all the while the demon cougar was lifting her head back onto her body.

  “Silky ready to hit the cub tonight, be showin’ off his jacket and attractin’ them fine young ladies,” the pimp continued, raising his hand into a disco dance move and pulling off a spin.

  “That’s probably for the best, since you don’t have the skills to satisfy someone with a little more experience,” the WereCougar said as she finished reattaching her head. “Maybe those young girls won’t mind that you underperform.”

  “Nah, baby, you got it all wrong,” he wagged his finger as he glared at her. “Silky was worried you was gonna hurt yoself, so he went easy.”

  “Uh huh,” the WereCougar replied, sarcasm dripping from her overly made up face.

  “You be thinkin’ you can handle round two?” Silky asked and cracked his neck.

  “Ohhh, now you’re talking, big boy.” She leered at him as he sprinted towards her, throwing haymakers. He drew air, and she lashed out with her claws to try to scratch him in retaliation, but he dodged. She grunted with the force of a horizontal strike, but he leaned back, landing a kick to her stomach.

  She staggered back, and the other two Agents stepped forward, flanking Silky. The WereCougar screamed and snatched up the fallen golf club, whipping it back towards them. Silky and Kerr hit the deck and Rose tried to dodge, but the blade tore into her bicep. Their opponent used the distraction to parkour up to the top of the room and burst out a window into the night.

  “Son of a whore!” Rose seethed, blood pouring from her arm and rapidly soaking her clothes.

  “Oh, quit yo whinin’,” Silky chastised as he inspected her wound. “Silky’s seen you take worse hits.”

  “I don’t care about the cut,” Rose snapped. “I just really liked this outfit.”

  “I bet your girlfriend Thorn has something you can borrow,” Kerr piped up as he strolled over, and she immediately jabbed at him, causing a wicked charley horse. He doubled over in pain, groaning at his seizing muscles.

  “Yeah, the arm’s fine,” Rose confirmed as she flexed her bloody arm. “Come on, we gotta call Baptiste and figure out how to deal with a WereCougar.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The trio strolled into Thorn’s living room, Rose holding a bandage to her bloodied arm. Kerr had grown a crushed velvet leopard print shirt to go along with fresh hoop earrings and thick makeup caked on his face.

  The lady of the house rushed forward. “Oh my god, what happened?” she asked.

  “I got infected by a WereCougar,” Kerr raised his claw hand in defeat.

  “That sounds like white boy problems to me,” Thorn retorted, and shoved him out of the way. “Baby, what happened? You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’ll live,” Rose replied with a nod. “This WereCougar bitch got the jump on us and I got nicked by Silky’s 9-iron.”

  “Girl, you need to come with me so I can get you fixed up,” Thorn instructed, her voice laced with concern.

  “It’ll have to wait, we need to get the Agency on the line.” The redhead argued.

  “Which is something your transgendered cracka can handle,” her companion shot back. “Or do you need to spend some time staring in the mirror?” She turned her hard gaze on Kerr, who visibly shrunk away from her.

  “You’s go on and be gettin’ patched up,” Silky assured Rose. “Silky’ll supervise while Nilla Wafer here be takin’ care o business.”

  “Yeah, sure, not like I’m having any issues today or anything,” Kerr muttered with a roll of his eyes, and started setting up the laptop as the women retreated to the master bedroom. He struggled to open it with his giant claws, and when he finally got it sitting upright he couldn’t help but scoff at his treatment.

  “Oh, what you be bitchin’ about?” Silky asked in amusement. “Silky be known’ lots o’ ladies that would scratch your eyes out for lookin’ as good as you is.”

  Kerr sighed. “I really need to find a new line of work.”

  “I would ask for a mission update, but I’m almost afraid to ask,” Baptiste said, his concerned expression popping up on the computer screen.

  “As well’s you should be, brotha,” Silky replied, sliding on to the couch next to Kerr.

  “Have you eliminated Ezra?” the attache inquired.

  “Yeah, he be gone,” Silky confirmed. “But this cracka here be presentin’ us with a complication.”

  “Rose can probably describe things better than I can,” Kerr replied, defeated, and stood. “Let me see if Thorn’s finished patching her up.”

  Silky put his feet up and leaned on his elbow, ever the picture of relaxation. “So, brotha, how you likin’ things heading up the storage facility?”

  “Absolutely loving it, Silky,” Baptiste replied with a big smile. “I don’t have to engage in fisticuffs, I get to explore demonology, and with the constant stream of new recruits I get to toss out the occasional yo momma joke. Life is good. The artifact archive here is magnificent, too.”

  “Doesn’t really sound like Silky’s bag, other than the insults o course.” The pimp shrugged. “But if it be gettin’ ya there, more power to ya, my man.”

  Kerr stood at the master bedroom door, waiting for a moment to be able to interrupt the ladies sitting on the bed.

  “Baby, you gotta be more careful,” Thorn said firmly. “This is a deep cut.”

  “Well, maybe you need to come back to the Agency so you can start watching my back,” Rose teased, raising a perfectly sculpted brow.

  “I’m not sure I could work with Silky and resist the urge to murder that motherfucker in his sleep.” The dark skinned woman rolled her eyes as she tied off the last stitch.

  “Let me talk to the Boss,” Rose insisted. “I had my
first solo mission recently, so maybe I can convince him to team us up.”

  “Or,” Thorn replied, “you can quit the Agency and come be with me.” She slid her hand gently around the back of the redhead’s neck and stared into her eyes, sincerity in her big brown orbs. “Lot less dangerous, even with the mosh pits.”

  “You know I’d love a life with you,” Rose said quietly, taking the woman’s other hand in her own and caressing it with her thumb. “But I’m doing a lot of good with the agency. I’ve saved a lot of lives.”

  “And you’ve done your part,” Thorn argued gently. “It’s time to let others do theirs.”

  “You might be right.” The redhead sighed heavily with a small nod. “But I think Kerr is in trouble and I owe it to him to do what I can to help. Once he’s not in danger anymore I kind of like the idea of being the bouncer at your shows.” She smirked as Thorn leaned in, crushing their lips together.

  “Guess every Rose has its Thorn,” Kerr declared from the doorway, and then blinked, stunned, as a knife embedded itself in the doorframe barely an inch from his head. “I’m going to go now… when you’re done, Baptiste is on the line.” He backed out of the room slowly.

  “Thought you had deadly aim?” Rose chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re slipping?”

  “You just said I get you as soon as that cracka is out of trouble,” Thorn confirmed with a grin. “Didn’t want to waste time on an emergency room visit.” They shared a laugh and a sweet embrace.

  “We’d better get in there.” Rose sighed, and they reluctantly headed back into the living room. Silky and Kerr sat on the couch, and the pimp shoved the infected Agent over to make room for Rose. Thorn knelt down next to her on the floor, her hand discreetly resting behind the redhead’s ample ass on the cushion.

  “Ms. Rose, it is good to see you,” Baptiste greeted her. “Hope you have been well.”

  “I have, Baptiste, thank you for asking,” she replied politely.

  “And who is your friend there?” he inquired.

  “This is Thorn,” Rose replied. “She was with the Agency before you came aboard. She’s helping us out with this case.”