Yolo: The Lovely Little Lunatic

by Sa'id Salaam

  “Wow,” again when they entered the grand foyer of the grand home. Her eyes darted from the marble floors, winding staircase, and extravagant chandelier.

  “Come, I’ll show you to your room,” Grimsly announced and led the way. The large home had several extra rooms so he literally just picked one.

  “Wow!” Yolo cheered once more at her new digs. It had a generic bedroom set along with TV, computer, and stereo.

  “I’ll take you shopping for clothes and incidentals in the morning,” he said turning to leave. He only took one step before she rushed over.

  “Thank you!” she said wrapping her arms around Grimsly. “Thank you for saving me from that place and thank you for letting me kill those people.”

  “My pleasure,” he replied patting her head like a puppy. “Get some sleep.”

  “Well what are you going to do with her?” Casper asked when Mr. Grimsly found him in the kitchen.

  “I’m going to train her. She’ll replace me one day. The girl is a natural born killer.”

  “You should know. If anyone would know it would be you,” he said and walked off. Mr. Grimsly was a tea drinker but Casper had a penchant for Vodka so he headed to the den for a shot.

  “If it isn’t the Baron! No don’t get up,” Casper teased the green mile look-a-like. The large black man was the official face of the Black Mob even though he didn’t have a clue to what they did.

  The mute saved Casper’s life in prison so Casper vowed to take care of him for the rest of his life. Technically Baron only saved his ass, not his life. The black inmates didn’t want to kill him; they wanted to fuck him. Baron couldn’t stop him from losing his virginity, but he prevented things from going from bad to worse.

  Casper really did appreciate it but was rude and nasty because he was a piece of shit. When they got out of prison he used his old connects and the Baron’s muscle to flip his money. And flip he did until the Black Mob was a force in every city, hood, ghetto, alley, and side street.

  They controlled their legion of dealers, pimps, and killers with extreme acts of violence. This wasn’t the run of the mill get down or lay down. No, their mantra was fuck up and get cut up. Into bite size pieces that is. Be a greedy pig and get fed to greedy pigs. Grimsly took great pride in killing. He could kill everyone and everything except the cancer that was slowly killing him.

  ****

  “Rise and shine!” Grimsly ordered pulling the curtains back in Yolo’s room. It was merely for show as the sun had yet to rise.

  "Ok Mr. Grimsly,” Yolo said politely and got out of the bed completely naked.

  “Where are your clothes child?” he snapped snapping his head away in embarrassment. She-Ra often had the girl running around naked or nearly naked to where she thought nothing of it. Mr. Grimsly did though; the man was a prude and intended to make a lady out of the girl.

  “They burned up with She-Ra,” she giggled at both the woman’s demise and his blushing.

  “Put something on. We’re going shopping,” he ordered and stepped from the room.

  Yolo watched the world pass by the car window with the curiosity of someone who didn’t get out much. That was because she didn’t get out much. Life with She-Ra was fixing drinks and watching various sex acts. She only now realized she was a slave not that she was free.

  “How about this?” Yolo asked holding another short skirt to her skinny frame. She wanted to dress like the teen girls she saw in the mall but the stuffy Mr. Grimsly wouldn’t hear it.

  “If you dress like a lady people will treat you like a lady,” he explained correctly. After all, if a woman dresses like a slut how can she expect men to view her any differently? They won’t. They’ll just call it like they see it. Leaving off the guesswork.

  With the help of a sales clerk, they settled on some age appropriate clothing. Yolo got dresses, skirts, jeans, and shirts but more importantly sweats to train in. Once they returned to the mansion, the training began.

  Since there was no legal guardian to enroll the child in school she was home schooled. Probably came out better without all the distraction of a bunch of rowdy kids. For six hours a day, the extremely intelligent Mr. Grimsly shared his knowledge of all things secular. After that came Yolo’s favorite subject, murder.

  “Wow!” Yolo exclaimed when Grimsly finally took her to his underground lair.

  His workshop was filled with various devices and contraptions to kill. Guns, knives, garrotes, and even roadside bombs. A fancy tube caught her attention and she rushed over to grab it.

  “Oops!” Yolo said when she put her mouth to it and caused a dart to fly out and lodge in the wall.

  “Be careful girl!” Grimsly chided and took the blowgun from her hand. “Had you hit me with it you would have been alone in the room in ten seconds!”

  To prove his point he pulled the dart from the wall and went to a cage holding several white rabbits. He poked one with the dart and it keeled over dead two seconds later. He picked it up by its obviously unlucky foot and headed over to another cage where a ball python lay curled up. The serpent hissed loudly when the rabbit was dropped in and struck. He quickly wrapped it in its clutches and squeezed. Yolo missed most of what was said after by watching the snake swallow its meal.

  As the years ticked by Yolo proved to be an excellent student, she grasped most concepts immediately and locked them in. She even posed poignant question that sometimes stumped her teacher. By 12, she got to get some on the job training but no killing just yet.

  “Go!” Grimsly shouted and hit the stopwatch sending Yolo into action.

  The girl immediately began to dismember an ex-mob member named Chaves used to run the black tar heroin market in Houston until he got beside himself. I guess it was karma when Yolo sat his head beside himself. Next arms, legs, and …

  “Time!” Yolo shouted holding her bloody hands up to show she was finished.

  “Not bad,” Grimsly said twisting his lips dubiously. It wasn’t bad because it was damn good. The girl just tied his personal best. “Bag him, let’s go feed the hogs.”

  “Yay!” Yolo sang clapping her bloody hands joyfully. This would be her first time actually going to the cabin. As soon as Grimsly left her alone, she cut off his dick and shoved it in his mouth for old time’s sake. Her teacher made her stop since it served no purpose. She just did it for fun.

  Once ol’ Chaves was bagged, he was loaded in the truck for the ride out to Pennsylvania. The Black Mob kept a cabin tucked away in the Pocono Mountains. That’s where the human garbage disposals lived. The ravenous pigs would eat anything or anyone fed to them. This was how bodies disappeared without a trace.

  After school and training ended for the day, Yolo would retreat to her computer for private study. Her two favorite subjects were porn and murder. The effects of living with She-Ra gave her a fascination for sex. She didn’t want any but did like to watch. Most times, she found it amusing.

  What she liked to read about most were serial killers, mass murderers. Not the cowards who shoot up schools or malls but the real killers. Ramirez, Bundy, Dahmer, and the like. By far her favorite was a mythical murderer from the Bronx called Killa. The man who allegedly blew up a whole funeral home.

  She wondered if he wasn’t just an urban legend because no pictures of him could be found. Just reports, rumors, and alleged sightings. According to folk lore, the handsome killer killed 100 people by the time he was 21. That became her goal. A search of the 100 kills only produced an ancient but true story…

  There was once a bad man who killed 99 men. He decided to repent and seek forgiveness so he sought out a monk. The monk told him there was no forgiving him so he killed him too making it 100 kills in all. He came across a wise man and told him of his plight. The wise man told him to leave his own village of wicked people and migrate to a land filled with righteous people. He set out on that path but died before he reached it.

  God sent the Angel of mercy and the Angel of punishment to see who would claim the s
oul. They settled the debate by measuring the distance between the bad place he left and the place of forgiveness that he sought. God moved him closer to the good land and the angel of mercy claimed him.

  “Shoot he killed a hundred men too!” Yolo protested. She obviously missed the point, did you?

  Chapter 7

  By 16 Yolo was a beautiful young lady. Her petite yet curvy little body disguised her brute strength. A disarmingly pretty smile hid the malice of her little black heart and mid-back long sandy brown hair covered her twisted mind. She was indeed a lovely little lunatic.

  Mr. Grimsly had trained her to be quite the murderer. She was proficient in every killing technique known to man not to mention quite a few they invented. By far her favorite was hand-to-hand combat. She perfected the deadly move nicknamed, ‘The bitch in you.’ It was so painful that it would bring out the bitch in the biggest, baddest bully.

  He taught her to be amorphous, a chameleon able to blend into any environment. She could dress up to a twenty something or down to pubescent. She had a variety of wigs including a bulletproof blonde dreadlock number. The cap and thick dreads were made of Kevlar. Grimsly designed several pairs of stiletto heels with daggers concealed in the heel. Oh, and of course there is the D.C. 2000.

  She was ready, willing, able, and trained to go. The only thing standing in the way of her kills was…

  “No! You are not ready,” Grimly answered yet another plea to take the lead on a hit. He had begun taking her along on missions and she was dying to make someone die.

  “I’m ready! I’m ready!” she shouted, bouncing in her seat.

  “So how would you handle this situation?” he said to test her as they pulled behind their mark at his favorite diner.

  Today’s victim was yet another degenerate gambler. He had more excuses than cash and that wouldn’t do. The thing about ass betting is that you eventually have to pay with your ass. He ran out of time, it was time to die.

  “I walk in and shoot him in the back of his head and walk out,” Yolo said matter of factly. She was ready to hop out and do just that if she got the green light.

  “You’ll have to shoot the waitress, the cook, and …four or five customers too. No witnesses right?”

  “No problem,” she shrugged not having a problem with the extra bodies. She did have a quota to meet after all. With only four murders under her belt, she needed 96 more in the next five years. That was an average of 19 a year and she had no problem with it.

  “It is a problem, it’s extra and unnecessary. NO, we never leave witnesses but we try not to have witnesses,” Grimsly lectured. It was all about efficiency for him. No wasted energy or effort. In all the hits, he’d done in his life; there wasn’t a single witness. Even when done in public like this one would be.

  “Watch the master,” the teacher teased as the mark stood and headed to the restroom. Grimsly donned a hat and glasses and walked swiftly into the diner.

  Yolo watched intently as Grimsly entered the diner. She just knew he would follow him into the bathroom and leave him slumped in one of the stalls. Instead, he stepped to the counter next to his food and ordered coffee. Yolo couldn’t see it but the second the waitress turned her back to fill the cup he pulled a syringe from his pocket. He deftly squirted liquid into his coffee and tucked it away.

  “Thank you, come again,” the waitress said stoically in a rough smoker’s voice. She even showed him her tobacco-stained smile to prove how bad cigarettes are.

  Grimsly nodded his head in reply while waving off the change as a tip. He turned to leave just as the mark returned from the restroom. The man sat down and resumed his meal like he did every day. Only today was his last day.

  “Why didn’t you kill him?” Yolo pouted, sticking her lip out and crossing her arms like a disappointed child. Which in a lot of ways she was.

  “I did. Wait for it, wait…for…it,” Grimsly said jovially as he sipped and chewed. Just then, he keeled over face first into his sunny side up eggs. “Sodium cyanide. The coroner may or may not find it. Either way he’s dead.”

  The next unlucky contestant on the price is wrong was an Amityville drug dealer named Treble. His real name was Trevor but they called him Treble because he had absolutely no bass in his voice. That alone was annoying enough to die for but he was in trouble for violating The Black Mob’s F.Y.P.M. rule.

  That’s an acronym for fuck you, pay me. Problems arise in drug dealing like raids and robberies but that’s your problem. If you got mob dope on credit it doesn’t matter what happens, fuck you pay me.

  Treble and his crew did have two trap houses raided and a stash spot robbed but fuck you, pay me. Shit happens but instead of working it off or making it up Treble decided to switch connects. A crew of Columbians in Queens filled the void. That too was a no-no that they would have to pay for as well.

  “A-yo fuck that little white boy Casper and that big black Baron!” Treble shrieked sounding like Mariah Carey. His crew of childhood friends Reggie, Ace, and Ray all nodded in agreement. They had all grown up together so it was only fitting that they all die together.

  Treble was a true hustler and had his town on smash. Amityville, New York is best known for that haunted house but it also has the highest population of crack heads, per capita in the world. The man would be a millionaire if he lived long enough. Only, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Yeah fuck ‘em!” Ace cosigned like hype-men do. At 6’4” 325, he was kept around for his brawn not brains.

  “Fuck ‘em,” Ray agreed. He was an exceptionally violent man ready for war at all times.

  “Yo we fuckin’ with the Mob! Let’s just pay them and keep it moving,” Reggie said cautiously. He heard the rumors of murder and mayhem and wanted no part of it.

  "We done voted. The results of the election are three to one in favor of fuck ‘em,” Treble laughed.

  Reggie just shook his head at the unwise decision. He should have done more than just shake his head. He should have moved to Alaska or the moon. His mother used to warn him growing up that hanging with Treble was going to get him in trouble one day. That day was near.

  “Yolo! If you’re coming then come along!” Mr. Grimsly shouted from the den. The cuter the girl got the longer it took for her to get ready. It seems like the opposite would be true. You’re cute, so come on.

  “Ready,” Yolo sang as she breezed into the room giving the stuffy Grimsly a fit with her outfit.

  “What do you have on? Where are your clothes!” he demanded turning his head in embarrassment.

  “What?” Yolo giggled in a tiny pair of shorts and half shirt. “This is what kids my age wear.”

  “It’s cute,” Casper interjected. “Ain’t she cute Baron?”

  The Baron shot her a quick glance, frowned, and turned away. He didn’t particularly care for the girl. To keep it one hundred she scared him. Just like animals can see Angels and Jinn, the mute saw her evil.

  “We’re going to market, not spring break,” Grimsly grumbled but acquiesced.

  “Soooooo… can I kill the drug crew?” Yolo asked trying her luck once more.

  “How would you do it? All four must go. We’ll be hunting these guys for weeks, months, once the killing begins.”

  “Why don’t I just lure them all to one place and kill ‘em?” Yolo asked simply.

  “Lure them all to one place?” Grimsly laughed dubiously. “You make it sound so simple. Just lure them all to one place.”

  “Pull over!” Yolo snapped, feeling salty from the snub.

  “Excuse me?” he asked in wonderment. This was not the part of town where one just pulls over.

  “Right there at the store, where those guys are. Pull over,” she insisted. Mr. Grimsly sighed and complied pulling into the convenience store parking lot.

  "I'll be right back,” she said and hopped out. There was too much movement in the tiny shorts so Grimsly turned away.

  The guys didn’t. They cut their conversation and locked on to the s
exy young thing. Their eyes shot from her thighs, crotch, stomach, and breasts then face as she approached. Grimsly watched as she giggled and flirted. A few seconds later, she led the fellows to the car.

  “Mr. Grimsly these nice guys wanna try out the D.C. 2000,” she said sweetly.

  “Do they know it will take their heads off?” he asked.

  “Yes. Don’t you guys?”

  “Yeah, that’s cool. No problem.” They all nodded in agreement. They left out the sex she promised in return.

  “This takes off heads too,” Grimsly barked producing a large revolver. The boys took flight, scattering in different direction.

  “Told you,” Yolo giggled as she got back in the car.

  The debate went back and forth to and from the market. They were still going at it when they reached the den with Casper and the Baron.

  “Ok, ok. Just bait. No killing!” Grimsly said in defeat. He should have known that by that age there was no winning with a woman. As much as he hated to admit it, Yolo was a young woman.

  “Thank you, Thank you!” she cheered and clapped. She ran over to hug her mentor and planted a grateful kiss on his cheek.

  “You lure them to the Motor Lodge on 109 and I’ll do the rest.”

  “I’m ready to change my mind,” Mr. Grimsly pouted when Yolo click-clacked her heels into the den.

  “What? I’m bait, boy bait,” she giggled and did a spin in the tiny dress that caused the three men in the room to snap their heads away. Yolo got another giggle at their embarrassment. "So, I get to drive my car by myself today?”

  “I guess,” Grimsly sighed, like any father or father figure it was hard watching a girl become a woman. He had given her a convertible Camaro from an ex-employee who didn’t need it anymore. Besides, the guy couldn’t drive now anyway. Not in all the pieces, he was cut into. That’s the thing about driving a car, you need feet and arms and a head…

  “Thank you, thank you,” Yolo sang and hopped around causing Casper, The Baron, and Grimsly to turn away again as her girl parts jiggled.