by Sa'id Salaam
"Nah, I can't kill you. I'm not going to." Killa sighed. "But, I'm not saving you either."
Doc wanted to say something when his friend turned to leave. Part of him wanted to get dressed and go with him. They could be a team, the deadly duo. Doc and Killa or Killa and Doc. Maybe someone would write a book about them or a movie.
Out in the hallway, Killa nodded a long conversation to the third killer in the house, as they passed each other. It was only a head nod but spoke volumes. The smile on the man's face did not match the ferocity in his eyes. He clutched his large bag tightly and walked into the room.
"Who are you?" Doc demanded to the stranger. The man sat his bag down to remove its contents as he began to speak.
"I am Chief of Police of San Jose, Costa Rica. I believe you know my daughter." He answered, producing the jar containing her head. Again, you should have seen the look on his face.
Chapter Nineteen
It's a long ass ride from Texas to New York but it flashed in the blink of an eye. Killa had murder on his mind the whole trip but still hadn't come up with a plan. Everyone and everything had to die, that much he knew. Pets, plants, guests, it didn't matter, they were dead.
Visions of Kitty's smile kept being interrupted by visions of her mutilated corpse. No, there was no particular plan but it was going to be brutal. When he reached Georgia, he pulled off to see Big Shawn, who specialized in all things brutal.
“The fuck! A-yo son, don't you ever fucking knock?!" Bigs demanded when he found Killa sitting in his living room smoking a blunt at three in the morning.
"Want a pull?" He replied, extending the cigar to him.
"May as well, since its mine!" He quipped, taking the blunt and a seat. "What brings you to town?"
"Yo, I need the same thing you gave my uncle…..the vest." Killa said somberly.
"Yo, why don't I pack a few pieces and come with you?" Bigs suggested. "That was a limited edition. No more of those."
"I don't know what I'm up against. All that matters is that they die. All of them."
Bigs hoisted his large frame from the sofa and headed towards the showroom with Killa in tow. Both men scanned the room for the right weapons of mass destruction.
“This is what you need." Bigs exclaimed, reaching for a sniper's rifle equipped with a large scope and larger silencer. "This baby can shoot the head off a mosquito's dick from a mile away!"
"Yo, do mosquitoes even have dicks?" Killa pondered aloud as he took the weapon. "I'll Google it."
"Take a few of these shits right here. These will clear shit out in a hurry!" The salesman said a box of grenades.
They collected guns, bullets, bombs and finally a bullet proof vest. Bigs tallied the merchandise and it came to twelve grand.
"I have a coupon." Killa joked as he pulled out a bank roll. He didn't really so instead he peeled off the twelve stacks.
After loading his guns, Killa jumped back onto the highway headed north. He gave the city of Atlanta a long lustful gaze as it passed his window, knowing it could be the last time he saw it. It was that sense of finality that forced him to make one more stop before reaching New York.
Killa navigated the streets of Philadelphia like a native. He pulled to a stop across the street from the North Philly Daycare that was his destination. Destiny put him there just in time because no sooner than he arrived, his son walked out, holding his aunt's hand. Aniya was the same pretty brown color as her late sister and had an identical smile. The proud father got out and followed discretely behind them until they reached the condo Denise once live in. With all the sentimental shit out the way, he was ready to go murder something.
The mansion used as headquarters for the Black Mob was way out in Hampton, Long Island. It was private, secluded and perfect. An eight foot wrought iron fence surrounded the property and beside the three massive Presa-de carnario dogs patrolling the grounds, there was no security. The Black Mob depended more on its reputation and secrecy for protection and since no one could know that Casper really called the shots, there could be no inner circle. But, they did have Yolo.
Yolo sat wide-legged and naked in front of her flat panel computer screen. She was masturbating as usual while surfing the net for porn. Porn actually made her want to kill. Blame that on her childhood but that's another story.
Casper too was engaged in his favorite pass time, getting head. He kept a rotation of strippers in and out for the task. The plush den contained a rarely use stripper pole because the dancers rarely danced. He figured why watch them strip which was only going to make him hard which was going to make him want some head. He cut through the chase to the back of their throats.
Baron did what he did best which was staring off into space. He never spoke, laughed nor smiled. He did enjoy his new digs and plentiful food but not his housemates. Casper was once loyal and grateful but now rude and disrespectful. It was as if he had forgotten who saved his ass, literally, who kept dicks out his mouth and rectum. Oh and that crazy little naked girl, he really didn't like her. She scared him.
Killa did what he did best and lined one of the large dogs in his scope. At the last second, the dog turned in his direction and caught a slug right between his eyes. The way the dog's head exploded made him smile and shoot the next one. It had come over to see what happened to its buddy and got the same. The last one tried to run but didn't get far as Killa brought it down too.
With the security all down, Killa began his approach. The athletic goon scaled the fence in seconds and was on the grounds. He traded his rifle for a pistol and crept forward. Killa ignored the moving truck and rigged the other vehicles with grenades. He attached them to the gas tanks to expound on the explosives.
He slipped into the house through the large doggy doors in the kitchen door. Gun first, Killa crept through the house. In the empty living room he found a candy jar filled with fluffy weed. Knowing the owners wouldn't mind or live to complain, he stuffed a handful into his pocket. He followed his ears upstairs and found his targets.
Both Baron and Casper were receiving blow jobs by strippers. Besides, the food this is what Baron loved next. Almost every day, Casper had one of the pretty white girls blow him. He was enjoying her head until it exploded.
"Don't move!" Killa demanded to all present, scanning them with his gun.
"I think I should go now." The surviving stripper announced. She came with the other girl but definitely didn't want to go with her.
"I think you should go now too."Killa agreed and sent her with her friend with a silent slug to her forehead.
"Black Mob." Killa chuckled, walking up on the Baron.
"You went after my people? Killed my girl?"
Baron shot a sympathetic glance to Casper for help and got none. Casper stayed mute, content with his bodyguard taking the heat. Baron was mute, not slow and knew he was taking heat for his shit.
“Nothing to say!" Killa demanded and pumped a slug into his knee.
The Baron's mouth opened and a thunderous cry came out. Yolo heard it from her room and jumped up. She quickly donned a vest and grabbed her gun.
"Still nothing?" He asked, sending more shots his way. Casper saw he was busy and eased towards the door. Killa saw him and put a round in his ass. "Get back in here!"
"So sorry." Casper blurted from fear and pain, and let the cat out of the bag. All the air got sucked out of the room at the sound of his voice. This was the smart ass, disrespectful voice that gave the commands; the voice that made the threats.
"You?" Killa asked in confusion, looking back and forth between the two men. "So who is he?"
“That's the Baron. My flunky. The public face of the Black Mob." Casper said suddenly smug.
"Looks like you're gonna need a new face." Killa announced and shot the Baron in his. He didn't know why the unarmed man was so cocky. That's because he didn't see Yolo sneak into the room.
Didn't see her but definitely heard her when her gun discharged. Damn sure felt the slug that slammed into h
is back. Vest or no vest, getting shot hurts. The impact spun him around and he came up firing. He and Yolo back peddled as they shot each other in their chests. They both fell and popped back up at the same time. They both pulled their triggers and came up empty. Only Killa had an extra clip and Yolo could only watch as he inserted it, as Casper limped out of the room.
"Shoulda shot you in your pretty face." Yolo said with a defiant scowl on her own pretty face. That's when he noticed she was naked beside the vest.
"Well, I'm damn sure gonna shoot you in yours!" He laughed.
“You gonna let Casper just get away?" She offered, hoping for a way out.
"He won't get far." Killa replied. The sound of an engine starting was closely followed by an explosion. "Not in one piece that is."
"I ain’t gone beg but I will make you an offer. Ten thousand keys. Straight out of Columbia, spare me and it's yours. Me too; if you want me." Yolo said seductively slinking forward. "Out in that truck!"
"Bitch they ain’t printed enough money for me to spare you." Killa growled. The attempted bribe and seduction caused him to viciously back hand her to the ground.
"Mmm baby, that turns me on." Yolo moaned up at him. She quickly pulled her vest off and played in her box as Killa watched curiously. "You may as well fuck me first. Don't let me die a virgin."
"A what!" Killa asked and laughed. Chics didn't make it past 15 in his world with their cherries intact. "Get the fuck outta here!"
"It's true! I been saving myself for my husband. I'ma good girl. 'Cept you ain’t gonna let me live long enough to get a husband." Yolo pouted.
Oddly Killa was slightly turned on at the prospect of a brand new vagina. Those are the best ones. And see, that's how men think, why not fuck a chic if you gonna kill her anyway. He didn't even resist when she crawled over and pulled him out of his pants. Once he grew stiff inside her mouth, Killa shot his knee up and knocked her over.
"You wanna get fucked, I'ma fuck you then!" He growled, grabbing her by an ankle.
Killa shoved himself inside of her roughly causing her to scream from the searing pain. He was shocked at how tight she was until he saw the blood from her ruptured hyman.
"We can be together." Yolo pleaded as he pounded. "We should be together. Imagine our kids!"
Her moans and voice only made him angrier. This was a grudge fuck, consensual rape. It wasn't supposed to feel good. He snatched himself out of her, flipped her over and plunged back inside. Yolo now screamed from pleasure and pain for the pounding.
"Mmm, I'm gonna cum." She whined as the feeling began to build.
The thought of her enjoying the act infuriated him. If he wasn't so close himself, he would have stopped and killed her right then. Again, that's how men think, why not cum in a chick if you're going to kill her anyway. Killa grunted and released just before she did. She began to hum from the orgasm but Killa fired a shot into the back of her dreadlocks. Then another.
"Stupid ass bitch...good pussy though." Killa said, cleaning the semen and blood off himself. A slow smile spread across his face as he scanned the room full of bodies. Nothing is more satisfying than killing your enemies.
"Fuck I'ma do with ten thousand kilo of coke?" He pondered as he drove the cocaine laden truck off the premises.
****
Killa left behind a house full of bodies but not all of them were dead. The hookers were of course deceased with the bullets in their head. The Baron didn't even have a face, so he was gone. Casper was in hundreds of pieces in the yard and Yolo took two to the back of her head...
"Oww." Yolo moaned as her eyes fluttered open. She laid there for several minutes before even trying to move. Slowly, she rolled onto her back wincing from the pain. She reached up and pulled the heavy bullet proof wig off and sighed. Yolo had a concussion, hairline skull fracture and nasty headache but she was alive. Alive and in love.
"Mmm Mr. Killa , I think I love you." She moaned, reaching between her legs again. "But I am so going to kill you!"
The End
Epilogue
Charles Mercer let out a pacified sigh as he tended to his backyard garden. This was his life complete with nice wife, two step-kids and a modest home. He worked a regular job as a produce manager in the local supermarket. By all intent and purposes, he had a good life. He should be happy or at least content but he wasn't. Sometimes he would watch scenes from his former life replay in his mind like some gangster ass movie.
"Charles! Charles! That phone was ringing! You know the one, it was ringing." His wife Alicia announced urgently as she ran outside. She was a beautiful dark black woman who knew how to treat her man. His life may have been a facade but his love for her was real. She had seen him use the satellite phone but the way he kept it charged and checked regularly, told her it held some importance to him. The way he jumped up to retrieve it proved her right.
The phone had rules. If no answer, call every five minutes until you get one. If anyone other than the owner answers, dump your phone and evacuate wherever you were. The phone had rang five minutes before Charles arrived. It began to ring again when he got to it.
"Hello?" He asked almost frightened.
"A-yo fam, what's good?" The man said smiling through the line.
"Killa?" Cam asked smiling back now. "Err thing ok? How's grandma?"
“She's cool, I'm cool....but um, what could you do with ten thousand keys?"
Killer Cam returns 2014
Now on Kindle & Nook
Sex and Violence:
The Killer and the Slut
~ Chapter 1 ~
“Um, excuse me mommy. Can I talk to you?” Triste asked timidly. She knew her mother didn’t like being disturbed while she was either watching her soaps or smoking her blunts. She just so happened to be doing both at the present time.
“Shit, you already talkin’ to me, you stupid, yellow heifer! Fuck you want now!” Her mother barked viciously while exhaling a plume of putrid weed smoke in the eleven year olds face.
“It never fails, as soon as I light up my Kush, your ass got something to damn talk about!” The statement was true, since the woman was always smoking. It was near impossible to find a time when she wasn’t high, or getting high.
Triste took a deep breath to summon her strength and began to speak. “It’s about Joe,” she stammered. She knew her desperate over weight mother loved her no good boyfriend desperately; as far as she was concerned, he could do no wrong.
“What about him?” she demanded bolting up in her chair. Triste was so scared she almost abandoned the mission to take off running instead. It had taken a week to build up the courage, so she refused to back down now. She was no punk in the streets and wouldn’t be one in her own home; besides, it was her body.
“He’s been touching me!” she announced triumphantly. It felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off of her shoulders. “He’s been feeling on my breast’ and my booty!”
Breast’! Booty! Bitch, you ain’t got no damn breast or no damn booty! Why the fuck would my man wanna touch your nubs or your narrow ass, when he’s got all this?” she laughed.
“See, that’s why I can’t stand your little yellow ass! Always thinkin’ you so pretty; my hair, my eyes… fuck you and your long hair and blue eyes! Bitch I’ll cut that shit off and pluck them shits right out of your big ass head!” She spent the next ten minutes berating the child until Joe walked in. It was one of those classic ‘speak of the devil’ moments.
“What y’all talkin’ about?” he asked of the animated conversation. “Well, perhaps the word conversation was too mild a word to use to describe their dialogue. This was pure verbal child abuse; cruelty to a child. He could tell from the scowl on the little girl’s face that she’d told on him.
Joe knew he gone too far by finally moving up to touching the child. For months, he had settled for just admiring her; stealing peeks when he could.
Triste’s father was a white man, which accounted for her golden skin type and her go
od hair. She had a headful of curly, light brown hair that extended to the middle of her back when pulled straight. Throw in the eerie set of pale green eyes, and she was destined to be a drop dead gorgeous woman one day.
One day…. only Joe didn’t want to wait that long.
Like most child molesters, he had started off slow; sodomite foreplay. He was content with staring at the frail child whenever he could. Then, he’d gone to looking up her dress while she watched TV. The Power Puff Girls on her panties had a new fan. Next, he began to accidently walk in on her at bath time. Of course, there was the usual pedophile past time of sniffing her panties and masturbating on them. He would take it out sexually on her mother whenever he’d get too worked up.
Janice had noticed the sex had gotten better but she didn’t know why. Mentally, and in Joe’s sick mind, he was fucking her daughter.
“This little frail bitch, who thinks she soooo pretty, tryna’ tell me, you been touchin’ her bony lil’ ass! Tell her that’s a damn lie!” she demanded.
“Uh, it’s a lie,” he repeated without conviction. He thought the gig was up, until she’d given him a way out. Had she looked up through the weed smoke, she would have seen the guilty look on his face.
“I knew it!” Janice cheered like she’d won a prize. “I knew your trifling ass was lying! Ain’t nobody touchin’ your ass! You better not never tell me nothin’ else ‘bout my man! Now get your narrow ass out of here before ‘I’ touch your ass!”
The stupid woman had just given him the green light to rape her daughter. If she couldn’t turn to her, her own mother, who could she turn to?
******
“I don’t know why I’m so tired,” Janice yawned at the dinner table. She was bobbing her head like her weave was too heavy, in an effort to stay awake. “You look tired,” Joe agreed. He didn’t say anything about the GHB he’d slipped in her Malt liquor. He’d started to drug the child too to make her more pliable, but what fun would that be?
