by KR Bankston
It was immediately drowned out with the laughter that came from the demon. Of course we fucked her stupid. Her pussy was wonderful, tight, and wet. We loved filling it with cum, she was delicious and you let her get away, weak bastard, the demon hissed. Carlo began hitting himself in the head to make the voices stop. He needed to be high. He had been sober entirely too long. He began to cough uncontrollably again. He hadn’t felt well for the last few months but dismissed it to the cold and damp conditions seemingly always present in the facility. Nothing some pussy or a good blow job won’t fix, the demon again taunted. Shut up, his sanity screamed trying to tell Carlo to request a visit to the infirmary. That shit is for the weak, we’re not weak, the demon protested as Carlo agreed with it and pushed thoughts of the infirmary from his mind. Loomie was walking by running an errand for the prison office when Carlo spotted him.
“Hey,” he called out as Loomie stopped walking and looked around nervously.
He’d heard the new warden was a real asshole and he didn’t want to spend any time locked up in solitary.
“I’m horny,” Carlo said simply.
“I can’t right now Hangman, the warden --,” he tried as Carlo grabbed him and pulled him right up to the bars.
“I said I want to be relieved right now,” he growled his face blackened with rage.
“OK, OK, but not here,” Loomie quickly replied as Carlo grunted and followed him to the laundry room.
His cell door was seldom locked; it was one of the few perks he and Cartier enjoyed.
Arriving Loomie locked the door, propping a chair behind it as he went to his knees preparing to give Carlo head.
“No,” he told him stopping him.
“But Hangman, you said --,” Loomie began when Carlo spoke, interrupting him.
“I want to fuck you,” he told him as Loomie caught the smile threatening to overtake him.
He’d been waiting for almost a year plus since he first started pleasuring Carlo, for them to go to the next level.
“OK Hangman, whatever you want,” he replied softly as Carlo actually kissed him stroking his body gently, grinding his hardness against him.
Pulling Loomie's pants down, Carlo turned him around and pushed him against the small sink, spreading him and entering him.
“Ohhh, Hangman,” Loomie moaned as Carlo began thrusting into him, eyes closed the demon taking over.
Mmm, doesn’t this feel good, the demon spoke as Carlo continued to thrust into Loomie. Tight like Lauren, warm, perfect for you, it went on. Give the sissy what he wants, fuck him to death, fuck him to death Carlo, hit him harder, fuck him, the demon was screaming as Carlo, now drenched in sweat continued to punish Loomie who was crying and begging him to stop.
“This is what you want isn’t it,” he growled arm around the man’s throat.
Loomie was gasping for air as Carlo’s rhythm reach a crescendo and he came hard shuddering deeply.
“You’re not a woman, you’ll never be a woman,” he continued to hiss in Loomie’s ear as he killed him.
The demon finally satisfied, Carlo let the man’s limp body drop to the floor, pulled his own pants back up and calmly walked back to his cell, enjoying the hit of heroin that was delivered while he was gone.
*****
Cartier was anxious. Lonette hadn’t shown up and it wasn’t like her to be late, ever. Something’s wrong, his gut told him.
“Lemmings,” Big Pete bellowed, standing outside Cartier’s cell.
“Yeah, what,” he returned, not in the mood for nonsense today.
“Let’s go,” Pete barked as Cartier gave him a look, but followed nonetheless.
Without a word they headed to the older end of the prison, an annex where they kept extra equipment and useless junk that hadn’t be requisitioned or disposed of yet.
“Why are we down here,” Cartier asked taking in the desolate area.
“We’re here so none of your boys can help you, and no one can hear you scream,” he replied, hitting Cartier hard with the baton he carried.
Stung from the surprise of the blow, Cartier immediately threw up his arm to defend himself from further assault. Pete charged him, baton swinging, as Cartier stepped out of the way and connected to his midsection with a hard underhand right. The big man dropped to his knees, Cartier immediately on his back choking him.
“What the fuck,” Pete sputtered flipping Cartier and trying to grapple with him.
Cartier quickly slipped from his grasp unleashing a flurry of punches to Pete’s face and body. Pete scrambled away from the assault as both men were now on their feet regarding each other murderously.
“What the hell is your problem with me muthafucka,” Cartier asked, spitting blood from his mouth.
“Lonette,” Pete answered calmly.
“Don’t be jealous bitch, you don’t have the dick for the job, that’s all, shit,” Cartier taunted as Pete charged him again and Cartier caught him with a knee to the gut.
He kicked him again and dropped him to the ground completely, sitting on his chest now pounding his face into a bloody mess, before Pete found strength to push him off again and rise to his feet.
“I’m going to kill you Lemmings, this is all your damned fault,” he screamed, almost over the edge.
“What the fuck are you talking about you crazy sonofabitch,” Cartier returned.
“Lonette, she’s dead, dead cause of you, you bastard,” Pete screamed beginning to cry now.
Cartier was stunned. What the hell does he mean dead, Lonette cannot be dead, his mind was blaring as he continued to regard the man in front of him.
“I just wanted to love her, to be with her,” Pete was still talking, his eyes screaming death as he looked at Cartier. “But she was in love with you, she wanted your convict ass over me,” he raged, looking ready to attack again.
“Did you kill her you psycho,” Cartier asked, his nerves on edge.
“It was an accident,” Pete yelled, answering his question. “We were making love and she got scared, she tried to fight me and hit her head, I didn’t mean to hurt her,” he continued the tears and snot flowing freely as Cartier saw red.
“You killed Lonette,” he said slowly, each word struggling to get out between his tightly clenched teeth.
Cartier saw the piece of discarded pipe lying behind where Pete stood. Moving he made the big man move, just as he wanted, changing positions now so that he was within arm’s reach of the pipe.
“I’m going to kill you Lemmings, you took away my Lonette, and I’m going to kill you,” he raged charging Cartier yet another time.
Wrapping his hand around the pipe, Cartier caught Pete right under the jaw, stunning him and stopping his movement. Cartier went to work with the pipe, blood spray covering the wall in a macabre masterpiece of death as he killed the guard, beating him beyond recognition and stabbing him repeatedly with the pipe.
“Socrates,” Horse yelled, coming up behind him and grabbing him off Pete’s dead body.
“Come on man, you can’t be out here,” he told him looking in Cartier’s eyes now as he finally began to calm down and return to himself.
Horse took the pipe and threw it down the hole leading to the sewer. It would settle to the bottom of all the filth and feces there and no one would ever find it.
“Take your shit off,” he told Socrates as he peeled off his prison uniform, clad only in his shorts now.
Horse quickly undressed and gave him his clothes.
“Go back to your cell, I’ll take care of this,” he told him as Socrates nodded, glanced one last time at the dead man on the concrete floor and went back to his cell, closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer for Lonette’s soul and finally telling her he loved her.
*****
Devontae told her to stay in the car once they arrived at the nightclub in Alabama.
“Are you sure,” she asked giving him a look.
“It’s straight baby, these guys are cool,” he returned confidently as
she shrugged and said okay.
Kaitlyn took in the scenery remarking to herself that the club was in a very odd location. There was nothing else but trees for at least another 5 miles at least. Guess that’s why they do so well in business though huh, she continued to think as Devontae returned to the car getting something out of the trunk.
“You okay,” he asked sticking his head in the car.
Kaitlyn shook her head that she was fine and he blew her kiss walking away again. She thought about the call from Jaleesa before she left. Seemed Kaitlyn was right, Deuce was beating her and to make matters worse she was pregnant. I told her to get on the pill, Kaitlyn thought as she sighed deeply. She and Jaleesa were heading for the clinic tomorrow for her to get the abortion. Devontae told her she could take his car. Kaitlyn had gotten a real license once she turned eighteen using the fake ID she’d gotten in Chicago. Of course everyone who saw the license thought she was the 21 years old that it said, which made her chuckle.
Devontae again exited the club, this time one of the men accompanied him and they stood outside chatting. Kaitlyn looked him over thinking he was very attractive. Tall and chocolate, his head was shaved bald. They chatted pleasantly for the next few minutes smiling and laughing with each before exchanging handshakes and Devontae headed back to the car.
“Sorry it took so long baby,” he apologized as Kaitlyn told him it was fine.
The other man had gone back inside the club and Devontae made no mention of who he was, so she didn’t ask.
”Don’t you wanna drive back,” he teased as Kaitlyn rolled her eyes playfully and told him to pull over.
They exchanged seats and she drove as he napped. Her mind was racing again as it sometimes did when she spent too much time quiet or alone. “Daddy, what are you doing, daddy, please, no,” she was crying as Auriel drooled blood, her head on the edge of the princess canopy bed Carlo bought. “I’m showing you what happens to liars Lauren,” Carlo replied, pulling the knife out. “Daddy please, no,” Lauren screamed as he slowly pulled the razor sharp blade across her mother’s throat and blood spattered her skin. “You’re my wife now Lauren, do you understand that,” Carlo questioned as she nodded profusely, terrified. “You will never lie to me will you,” he asked once more as she assured him she wouldn’t. “Good girl, good girl,” Carlo replied, taking the .45 and shooting her mother in the head, brain matter covering the wall as Auriel’s eyes lost their light.
“Baby, you missed the turn,” Devontae told her, waking momentarily from his nap.
“I’m sorry,” she replied, still shaken from the recollection.
“It’s cool, just turn when you get up to the next intersection, it’ll take us back,” he replied sweetly and settled down for another nap.
Kaitlyn pushed the evil memories away quickly turning on the radio and finding a station. Any noise at this point was good noise if it kept the darkness away. She vaguely wondered if her father was surviving prison, but quickly dismissed the pondering. I hope he rots in hell, she thought as a final effort and turned him off in her head. Instead Kaitlyn turned her thoughts to Jaleesa and helping her get the abortion she wanted without Deuce finding out. I sure hope he doesn’t beat her again if he does, Kaitlyn mused as she saw her turn and made sure she took it. Passing a roadside advertising Blue Power, she sighed softly thinking of her own loss. You promised you would contact him, her conscience told her. Lauren promised, Kaitlyn quickly corrected and dismissed the thought. Blue was another life and that life didn’t exist anymore. Kaitlyn had her own man and his name was Devontae, end of story. Turning the radio up Kaitlyn thought about nothing else except getting home for the rest of the trip.
15
The rain was coming down as Judge Ronald Bishop arrived home. He drove the Benz into the garage and switched off the engine. Watching as the garage door closed, he gathered his briefcase and got out of the car headed inside.
“Lydia, darling I’m home,” he called out to his wife as he put his briefcase and wet coat down in the small foyer area from the garage.
Getting no response, he shrugged slightly assuming she was upstairs out of hearing and went into his den to make himself a drink.
“Good evening, Judge Bishop,” the tall well-dressed man greeted him.
Lydia was tied to one of the beige Queen Anne chairs the room contained, standing out in stark contrast to the serenity the room normally held with the framed waterscapes and softly billowing rose colored sheer curtains, framed by the upscale collection of mahogany wood furniture. She was gagged, her eyes speaking her fear.
“What are you doing in my house,” Ronald returned.
His nerves were of course on edge, but he didn’t want to show these men fear.
“I’m here to pay a debt of course,” the man replied calmly.
Ronald swallowed hard having no idea what the man was talking about but he had the feeling it wasn’t good.
“Whatever it is you want, just name it and let’s get this over with,” Ronald tried to bluff.
The man chuckled softly and told him sit down. “You’re not in court Judge,” he said simply as another man entered from the kitchen, juice bottle in hand.
“Hey glad to see you made it to the party,” he joked pushing Ronald toward the other chair in the room.
Securing him the men continued to regard the couple quietly.
“Who sent you people to my house,” Ronald asked yet another time.
“An old friend,” the first man replied.
He seemed to be the more cultured of the two.
“What friend, you’re talking in circles,” Ronald finally threw out frustrated with the game.
The first man laughed as his accomplice continued to make crude gestures to Lydia.
“You know with men of power, they are so easily corrupted,” the man began anew as Ronald listened intently. “They forget they are merely men, and that no one man is bigger or better than any other,” he continued, opening the cigar box the large maple desk held.
Clipping the end he lit it and inhaled deeply, walking over to Ronald and blowing the smoke directly into his face.
“How long have you been married,” he asked calmly.
Ronald swallowed hard and told him almost 23 years.
“Mm, nice,” he replied turning his attention to Lydia. “Was she a virgin when you married,” he inquired once more as his friend chuckled.
“Please, just leave us alone,” Ronald returned, not liking where the questioning was headed.
“What are they paying you, I’ll give you more,” he tried, hoping the men were only after money or here to scare them.
“I can’t do that Judge Bishop, that would make me a dishonorable man,” he told him calmly.
“Besides, I’m leaving tonight, relocating to Kansas City, I have a new job there,” he told him as Ronald nodded his understanding.
“So in all fairness I guess I really could tell you my name, hmm,” he inquired as Ronald shook his head no.
If they told them their identities he knew without a doubt they were going to kill them both.
“I’m Nero,” the man said calmly. “And this is my friend, Payback,” he added, chuckling at the end of his sentence.
“Please Mr. Nero, just take whatever you want and leave us alone,” Ronald pleaded.
“In due time Judge, in due time,” he replied as Payback, yanked Lydia from the chair, throwing her onto the Victorian sofa.
She screamed and tried to fight as he tore her clothing from her.
“No, stop, don’t do this,” Ronald pleaded, tears in his eyes as he watched the man slap his wife.
“It would seem that Payback has plans of his own, Judge, best not to get in his way,” Nero replied emotionless as Payback finally succeeded in his mission, thrusting deeply as Lydia screamed behind the gag, and Ronald sobbed in pain, eyes closed and head hung trying to block out the image.
*****
Jack Duggard was feeling his oats, barking orders at the var
ious staff and inmate alike. He still hadn’t gotten a rise of out Carlo or Cartier and it was beginning to annoy him. He didn’t like the still regal air of respect and superiority they were afforded here in his prison. I’m going to bring those two used to be kingpins down a notch or two, he continued to brood. No one had been brought forward to pay for Peter Diggs death and that again made him angry. If the inmates started to believe they could get away with murder, he would have anarchy on his hands. Warden Duggard had something to prove. He was gunning for a spot on the Federal Prison’s board and he needed Leavenworth to be that stepping stone. Heading back into his office, he told his secretary he didn’t want to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening. She nodded her understanding and rose to handle some business of her own. Settling behind the large metal desk, Jack swung his chair around admiring the scenery from his window. He could see well beyond the walls of the prison. The world outside didn’t matter though. It was in here that he was king, and as king, he was going to have respect.
Turning back around he was shocked to find both the men he had been thinking about, standing in front of him.
“What are you doing in here,” Jack barked, getting a sinking feeling.
Surely they weren’t stupid enough to try anything in broad daylight with all the guards on duty.
“We came to see you Warden,” Cartier told him calmly, eyeing him evenly.
Carlo said nothing, but that nothing was screaming at Jack when he looked into his eyes.
“We have been doing just fine in this hell hole until you came and decided you wanted to make it even worse,” Cartier continued rising now and walking around the desk, right up in Jack’s face.
“Scared,” he asked, smiling at him now.
