Death Sucks

by Andrew Mallen

  “I’ll do my best.”

  The guard snickered, brushed the wall with the black nail of one finger and a doorway to darkness opened at once. Grabbing Cinetti by her hair, he yanked her off her feet and tossed her inside, “Sweet dreams sugar tits!”

  Bobby smiled and hoped it was convincing.

  “Name’s Delory.” The guard offered his name like Bobby was a dog who’d done a trick worthy of a treat.

  “Pleasure Delroy.”

  “Won’t keep you boy but I wouldn’t worry much about the time none. Jonesy got a few things to take care of, probably take a bit, you’ll probably be sick of that bitch by then.”

  Bobby’s new BFF was a fountain of information.

  “How long?”

  “Dunno. Don’t measure time much but Jonesy will be busy with the Russian for a spell, that’s for damn sure, then he’s got a class waiting to go, could be a good long while I reckon.”

  Bobby nodded, smiled and stepped into the dark.

  4.

  “I grew up in Philly, just outside it really, in the shit part of town. Mom was a boozer, the old man was worse, but he was in and out of prison a lot so they eventually just kept him. No loss, not for me anyway but Mom not so much. She graduated from the bottle to the pipe and shit got ugly quick. The house was full of all these crackheads, stealing shit, ass grabbing, it was a bad scene bro so I split. I took a train to NYC when I was like sixteen, seemed like a good idea at the time, ya know.”

  That sucks, she didn’t have a shot.

  “It wasn’t. Same shit, different zip code, people suck no matter where they live Bobby, trust me. I worked some bullshit waitress jobs, making bullshit money, and every manager with a cock expected me to suck it for the privilege. Not my deal, ya know, I’m a girl’s girl, guys gross me out big time, no offense.”

  “None taken, I couldn’t agree more.”

  “I met someone, I wasn’t looking, I was a fucking mess, but it happened. She was from Brooklyn. Gorgeous brown hair, chocolate eyes, olive skin, sweet and kind and funny and she didn’t judge me. She didn’t care where I came from or what I did, ya know.”

  Bobby didn’t, he didn’t know anything. Not about love or life or shitty jobs or fucked-up parents, absolutely nothing. As bad as her memories sounded, he was jealous.

  “So I was able to get a decent gig once I turned eighteen in this fancy restaurant booking tables and running the floor. It wasn’t brain surgery, all you needed was a tight ass, nice tits and a little black dress to show it all off. I ain’t bragging or nothing but I had all of the above, I was in like Flynn. After a while I scraped up enough cash to get a little studio walk-up in Greenpoint and Gianna, her name was Gianna, she wants to move in, take it to the next level kinda thing. Great right?”

  Bobby was afraid to answer but did anyway, “Sounds good to me.”

  “Right, me too, dream come true but it wasn’t. You see, my girl’s dad was a big shot wise guy, a gumba, and he sure as shit didn’t want his little princess shacking up with a carpet munching runaway. The first night, I’m still trying to piece together a fucking ridiculous Ikea puzzle when these three big greaseballs in suits bust in the door, tear up my place and rough me up before dragging G outta there screaming like she was on fire.”

  No fucking way!

  “That shit really happens?”

  “Not just on HB-fucking-O bro!”

  “Shit!”

  “So G disappears and I’m thinking that’s it right, but like two months later she shows up at my place ready to pick up where we left off. She told me her dad sent her to some, like, lesbian rehab, believe that shit? She wants to run away to San Fran or Seattle and I was down but who has the money for that shit. She’s hysterical, I’m hysterical, we were in love dude, like real love!”

  Cinetti stopped. Bobby could hear her struggling to hold back her emotions. He wished he could say something to soothe her, knew he couldn’t and waited. Cinetti was tougher than she looked, tougher than most people looked. She regained control and picked up where she left off.

  “So G comes up with this plan to steal a few stacks of cash from her dad’s safe. I told her it was a bad idea but she wouldn’t listen. She was sick of her life, her dad and his shit, there was no talking her out of it. His money was our only out and she figured he owed us anyway. We make this plan, it sounded good, but she has to go back home for a while, you know, to play nice and all that shit. I didn’t hear from her for like two weeks and I was stressing hard. I’m at work, the news is on at the bar. I look up and there’s my girl, there’s G on the TV, a picture of her anyway. They found her washed up on some fucking beach out on Long Island with a bullet in her head.”

  Lisa stopped again, lost to the pain only a broken heart can create. Bobby waited, nothing he could say would ease it.

  “He did it. That fat motherfucker killed her because she loved me. She loved me! He killed his own daughter. She was innocent! She was a good person! Really good you know, like in her heart.”

  “I hated him Bobby, I hated him so much! It was like…it was like there was something inside me, something that was going to burn me up if I didn’t get rid of it. Before G died, I thought I knew what hate was, you know, but I didn’t. Hate is real, it feeds and grows, it takes over bro, it takes control. It took me. It took me and I let it, I wanted it, needed it. It was all I had left to connect me to G.”

  Holy shit, maybe I’m better off not remembering.

  “I bought a gun from one of the busboys at work, and a shit load of bullets. Every day after work I’d sneak into this abandoned sugar factory by my place and shoot cans and bottles and rats and pigeons, and whatever else I could. I followed that fat fuck on my days off and found out where he hung out, an Italian joint, on eighty-sixth and Avenue U in Brooklyn, so fucking original right? I got a job there but the first time he came in I froze like a little bitch. I thought I was done, that he’d have one of his guys haul me out and I’d end up just like G. There he was, looking me right in the face and he didn’t even know me. You know what he said, you wanna know what the fat bastard said?”

  Screaming, her rage as vivid as her memory, she didn’t wait for an answer.

  “No seeds on the bread babe. Can you believe that shit? He was all arrogant and condescending and shit. No fucking seeds! He killed my heart and all he cares about is seeds on his bread! Ahhhhhhh!”

  Long and loud, amplifying her agony, her cry echoed, faded and disappeared.

  “He was a big deal, a big player. The owner ushers all the other customers out so G’s dad, big bad Christopher Luchi and his four goons have the whole place all to themselves. Five fat pigs, all oblivious to the pain they caused, the fucking lives they ruined. One guy, one of the assholes that tore up my apartment, does a double take when I bring the bread basket. No seeds right! I saw him try to place me and knew I had to do it before he could. I grabbed my gun from the locker and the three extra magazines, I tell my girl I’m coming, burst into the dining room, ready to kill those fucks like they killed G. The two busboys, Ernie and Joe, they got the first two bullets, poor fucking guys were just cleaning tables but there was nothing I could do, you know.”

  Bobby shook his head, he didn’t know.

  “The guy from my apartment reacts fast, but I shot, I shot that prick right in the face as he jumped up. G’s dad ducks under the table like a fucking coward but I knew that, I knew he’d run and hide like a bitch. The other three little pigs were so fat they could barely push themselves away from the table, their appetite is what really killed them.”

  She chuckled, more madness than humor. Bobby was in awe of her love and devotion, it was amazing and frightening.

  “I put one more down, but I had to reload. I wasn’t afraid of dying but I was afraid of not getting to kill G’s dad before I did. I popped in a fresh clip and was back in business. All those rats and pigeons hadn’t died for nothing, I was one bad bitch. The guy closest to me pulls his gun out, I put one right between his man
-titties before he could get it pointed at me. One guy dives behind the little bar, shooting blind, like a dick. He hit me, just a graze, I didn’t feel it, I was riding a fucking tsunami of adrenaline and hate. I walked over to the bar as he’s fumbling to reload with his fat fucking EVOO saturated fingers, put the muzzle to his greasy head and blew his brains all over the speed rack.

  “Vinny, the owner, a nice old guy who never so much as gave me a dirty look, hauls ass out of the kitchen with this double-barrel shotgun, shit looked like it belonged in a museum. He yells at me to stop in his broken ass English, ‘Lisa, you must stop this.’ I told him to beat it, that it wasn’t his fight. He ain’t listening, he’s sweating, his gun is shaking but the fucking thing was pointed right at me, you know? I told him to back off, that I couldn’t stop, that he had to part of it. I see his finger sneaking over the trigger, fucking guy, I shot him twice and blew his ass right back into the kitchen like in a movie.”

  Damn, this girl plays for keeps. Mental note, don’t fuck with Cinetti.

  “Luchi starts screaming, he knew he was done. He must’ve heard Vinny say my name, starts asking if I was his Gia’s Lisa. I nodded, I wanted him to know who was killing him and why. He killed my G! My G! He shook his head and looked at me for the first time, really looked at me, you know. He had her eyes, it tore me apart. I start screaming, I got the gun real close to his face but I couldn’t, not with G’s eyes looking at me.

  “Luchi starts rambling on about how G, how he knew, he understood, that Gia made him. I saw it then, the pain in his eyes, the kind you can’t fake, you know. ‘You stole her from me, you killed her,’ I says.

  “He goes all teary eyed and shit, ‘I could never, she was my baby girl,’ he says. As much as I hated him, as much as I didn’t want to believe him, I saw something in his eyes, something I knew couldn’t be faked because I felt it too. Against everything I felt I start believing him, but I wanted to know who did it and why because somebody was dying for it. He starts blabbering about Russians, how they tried to take his turf, how it was business, how they crossed the line. It sounded like bullshit to me, too convenient you know, so I called him on his bullshit but the fat fuck dropped a bomb on me. He told me he killed the bitch in charge but they caught the guy who actually killed G and that he was gonna kill the guy himself. Then he throws me another curve, he tells me I can do it, that I deserve to do it.

  “My head was spinning, you know. I didn’t know what to do and time was running out, I could hear the sirens coming. Luchi heard them to, reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a fancy ass pen. I nearly shot the fucker right there. He scribbles an address on a napkin real quick, hands it to me and tells me to say ‘lemon ice’ when I get there. ‘Do what you gotta do,’ he says, all dramatic. I did. I put a bullet in his head, the bag of shit deserved it.”

  She’s a stone cold fucking murderer. I’m alone in the dark with a serial killer.

  “I grabbed the napkin and bolted. The delivery moped, a piece of shit Honda held together with duct tape, was ready and waiting in the back, right where I’d left it and man did I make that little fucker scream. I don’t know how I made it outta there, the cops probably stopped for donuts figuring it was a mob hit or something. The napkin said Redhook, it was like a forty-minute ride even at full tilt, I was all about full tilt right then. I couldn’t figure G’s dad’s angle, there was nothing in it for the guy. He knew I wasn’t letting him off with a warning so why spew all that stuff unless it was the truth. I figured if I kept killing people I’d find out, you know?

  “The address matched a steel door that lead to the upstairs of a shithole pizzeria that served fried chicken, enough said, right? I knock. I wait. I knock again. A big voice calls from inside to hold up. I check my gun, full clip, ready to go. The voice on the other side wants to know what I want. ‘Lemon ice,’ I said. I felt like an idiot saying it but it worked. A lot of bolts rattled and the door opens all slow like. ‘Mr. Luchi sent me,’ I says. ‘I’m here for the Russian.’.

  “A big guy stepped from behind the door, his muscles had fucking muscles, you get me. He looked me over, shrugged, nodded, stepped aside and I was in, just like that.

  “‘You family?’ he asked as he followed me up the stairs. Family meant a lot to those guys, you know. ‘Kinda,’ I says. ‘Kinda,’ he says back. I went all in, nothing to lose right, so I says, ‘I loved her.’ The big guy grunts, ‘You’re her.’ ‘Her?’ I says. ‘Gianna’s girl, the boss said you might show up.’”

  No fucking way.

  “No way.”

  “He blew my mind and didn’t even know it. The fat fuck had been telling it straight, he didn’t have G killed!

  “The big guy asks me if I did any killing before, like it was normal. Oh yeah, I think, sure, all the time, it’s a hobby, that and bowling. I just nod and he points down a short hallway. It was dark, but I figured I was the boogie man in the scenario right, I was the killer. The door was super creepy, all the paint was peeling, the hinges were rusty and there was like six deadbolts bolts on it, shit was getting real.

  “The big guy asks if I want a blade, I didn’t get it so he says, all cool like, ‘That will do the trick but a blade’s more personal, you know, you can get real up close and personal, take your time.’ He was eyeballing my gun, I’d totally forgotten I had it in my hand. I was stuck on stupid. I didn’t know if I could kill someone with a knife but I didn’t want to look like a pussy. ‘Yeah, that’d be great, got one I could borrow?’ I says, you know, trying to be cool.

  “The big dope pulled out this wicked looking curved black knife from a sheath on his belt. ‘Karambit,’ he says, it sounded like he sneezed or some shit. I take it and I knew, as soon as I had it in my hand, that I would use it on the fucker who killed my G. ‘Grabbing a slice, want one?’ he says. I didn’t, who eats at a murder right? The dude left, just like that. He was giving me privacy, it was weird but kinda nice ya know?

  “The door creaked like I was in a movie, it got me all wigged out but once I stepped into the room, I felt just hate man, like deep down in my heart, I hated. The dude was sitting there, all busted up and taped to a folding chair in the middle of the room. He was young, kinda ripped, and inked up with all sorts of skulls and saints and a bunch of words that must’ve been Russian. He looks at me, his eyes were all swollen and bloody, fearless though, and cold, like they were made to hate, I could feel it. Guess what he said Bobby, guess what that motherfucker said to me.”

  Bobby couldn’t, he couldn’t imagine any of what she was telling him could happen in real life. After a few seconds of silence, Cinetti got the hint.

  “‘You here for blowjob,’ he says and smirks, his teeth were all fucked up. I don’t say nothing, I couldn’t. ‘Might be difficult with me in chair, you untie me, then I fuck you good little girl,’ he says but the bastard was a bad actor, I could see the fear, his bullshit wasn’t hiding it. ‘You killed my Gianna,’ I says. ‘Little wop girl, it was job,’ he confessed as if it was nothing more than littering, as if doing it for money made it okay. I didn’t know what to say but he did, he was on a fucking roll, ‘I understand, she was little pussy friend, she lick your little pussy, now it makes some sense, why she scream so loud when I fuck her, she was not used to cock.’ He starts fucking laughing, fucking laughing! I couldn’t even imagine my G being torn apart by that nasty, slimy, sick piece of shit. I was shaking so bad. ‘No big deal, I go quick, she was tight, like new shoe,’ he says, he was so gross! He was so fucking disgusting! I hated him so much! He raped my G, my poor, sweet Gianna, and he was laughing about it! That fuck was making jokes about that shit!”

  This is so fucked up. I don’t think I want to know what happens next.

  “I tucked the gun in my jeans and squeezed the knife real tight. That fuck didn’t deserve a bullet, he wasn’t going to get one. I started with his ears. The blade was so sharp they peeled from his head as if they were just glued on with Elmer’s or some shit. He screamed but it was like music you know, fu
cking music. I cut off every finger, well I tried to anyway but ended up peeling a few like bananas instead, the bones were a pain in the ass and I couldn’t get the leverage to break them. I took my time with his nose, it wasn’t easy and his thrashing cost him an eye but I left the other one so he could see me as I worked. I scooped out his nipples like melon balls, I carved Gianna’s name across his chest, really deep, it was a fucking mess. He got all quiet, blood loss I figured, so I picked up the pace. I pulled off his pants and his undies and actually smiled when I saw his little prick nestled in his man garden. ‘I doubt she even felt that thing,’ I says.

  “He didn’t like that and started squirming and pinched his legs shut but he was weak by then. I pried them open and drove that blade deep into the soft spot just above the root of his cock then sawed down one side, did the same on the other, grabbed hold and tore if out like the weed it was.”

  Jesus Christ on a fucking cracker! I’m in here with Dahmer! No, the clown guy! Worse!

  “Man did he scream! He screamed for his mommy, for Jesus, for mercy, he was getting none of it. He’s thrashing in the chair, my hearts was booming so hard I thought it would pop. I get behind him, pull his head back and cut his throat, slow Bobby, like super slow motion slow man. The power bro, the fucking power! It was like I got a blast of electricity to the brain. I never felt so high in my life, never, and that’s saying a lot bro because I did my share of shit you know. Killing that bastard was like the best high ever.”

  “The big guy snuck in at some point. He was just standing there, staring at me. I looked at him and I smiled. He didn’t. I see he has his gun out but I don’t figure out why until he points it at me. I knew I was dead right there. I knew it and I didn’t give a flying fuck. I smile and nod at the big guy. He fired, boom, it was like a fucking train hit my chest. I heard three more but I didn’t feel shit. I remember thinking it was overkill but who was I to judge right, he was the pro.”