Braaahhh! Brrrrr! Two of the dogs barked loudly. Natalie’s eyes grew wide. “I have seen that look before! Not again…not again I tell you!” she shouted as Brock’s dark green eyes, flashing images in her mind and replaying his snarled up snout and razor sharp k-9 teeth, showing and dripping of fresh blood as he dragged her around the house and had his way with her. “Not again!!!” she shouted. The sound of her voice rising agitated the dogs. The Great Dane in front of her leaped up in the air with his mouth wide open ready to sink his teeth into her face and rip it off. Natalie gripped the handle of her gun tightly and pulled out the bulky revolver, the judge 257. She handled it with both hands and spread her legs planting her feet firmly on to the ground and squeezed the trigger. Boom! The hand gun roared sounding like thunder as a bright orange spark leaves the barrel of the gun. The bullet, as long as a man’s index finger, traveled at the speed of light, ripping a huge hole into the Great Dane’s chest while it was still in the air. Blood and chunks of the dog’s flesh burst out through the bullet hole that was left. The bullet exited from its back through its spine, killing the dog instantly.
Natalie tried to step back but it was too late as the larger dog landed on her causing her to stumble backwards and on to the ground. “Uggga,” she groaned as the weight of the dog knocked the wind out of her. The rain seemed to fall down twice as hard with huge rain drops falling into her mouth and eyes. The faster she wiped them off of her face; the faster they came down, making her feel like a wind shield wiper. “Uggh! AHAHAHAHA!” she hollered in excoriating pain as the black and brown German shepherd locked down on to her right wrist. “AHAHAHAH!” she screamed as tears mixed with rain streamed down her cheeks. She tried to break free of his grip but it went in vain as the German shepherd shook her right arm back and forth like a dead piece of meat. She then tried to push the dead Great Dane from off the top of her, but the 80 pound dog pinned her to the ground like a WWF wrestler. “AHAHAHAHA!” A new sensation of pain caught her off guard as razor sharp teeth sunk into her calf muscle. She lifted her head up an inch off the ground and struggled to see passed the dead Great Dane that was still on top of her to only to see the next one shaking her leg trying to rip away a chuck of her flesh to swallow. “AHAHAHAHAHA, not again, not again!” she hollered in agonizing pain to only deepen the dog’s teeth and rip into her flesh even more.
Brock’s face flashed through her mind. The more she saw him; the less pain she began to feel. Her pain turned into anger mixed with rage. “Not again, not again!” she screamed at the top of her lungs and began to punch the German shepherd repeatedly in the face with her left hand. “AGGGGGGHH! Get off me! Get the fuck off me, you piece of shit!” she shouted. With each blow that she attacked the dog, the more it tried its hardest to rip her right arm off. “Ahahah!” she hollered and swung with all her might punching the Great Dane straight in the nose. The blow was so powerful it caused the dog to howl in pain, making a whimpering sound. Realizing that the dog’s grip was off her wrist, she screamed, “Aaaaah!” She looked up and saw the dog snarling, showing off his teeth as Natalie swung once more. The dog took the hit with ease, stepping to the side. “Fuck! Fuck!” Natalie shouted, realizing that the dog’s common sense kicked in. He now understood that he could tolerate her hits because her little fist could do no damage. He growled and charged towards her face. Natalie opened her eyes wide. All she could see was the rows of his back teeth. Images of the dog ripping her flesh off her face played in her mind. “Ugggh!” she groaned. She bore the accelerating pain in her right hand and her left hand was still holding the judge revolver tightly. Just as the German shepherd’s teeth was about to lock down onto her face, she jammed the gun into his mouth and down his throat and pulled the trigger. Boom! A loud explosion went off as the bullet ripped through the dog’s brain and came out the back of his head, sending fur and flesh flying into the air and landed in a puddle of rain water. “Uggg!” Natalie wasted no time to use all her strength and pushed up and tossed the dead Great Dane. It rolled to the side making a thumbing sound. Natalie quickly sat up and aimed at the Great Dane that was chomping away at her calf muscle. “Ugggh!” she screamed, “I can’t shoot him this close without blowing off my leg. Fuck! Fuck!” she shouted. She began to kick at the Great Dane repeatedly with her left foot, sending the heel of the New Balance sneaker crashing into its head. Once the dog released its grip, she leaned backwards and fired twice. The first bullet nicked the dog’s shoulder, tearing a little piece of his flesh off. The second bullet zoomed passed him, missing him all together. Natalie’s heart raced knowing she only had one bullet left in the 257 revolver. It only holds four bullets because each bullet was the size of a grown man’s index finger. They made the bullets bulky and extremely big and heavy. Natalie breathed hard, panicking while backpedaling her hands, trying to put some space between her and the huge dog.
The sound of thunder almost caused her to let out a scream as the rain poured down even harder, making it almost impossible to see. As her eyes filled with water, she managed to stand up, but her knees buckled as she almost fell to the ground because of the pain in her left calf muscle was too much for her to bear all her weight. She stood on her tip toes on her left foot and placed all her body weight on her right leg. She wiped the water out of her eyes and face. She aimed the gun at the growling dog straight in front of her. “I will never be a victim again in my life,” she stated. She said the words mainly to herself to help get rid of the fear that she was feeling. “Ahah!” She let out like a warrior cry and squeezed the trigger. “Huh!?” she said. Her right eyebrow raised in surprise as a bullet did not fly out of the gun, it just made a sound. “Oh shit! The bullet must be too wet to fire,” she said out loud and flipped open the barrel of the revolver. All the empty bullet shells along with the gold bullet hit the ground. “Nooo!” she screamed and squatted down, moving her hands around on the ground until she found the gold bullet. She grabbed it and used the inside of her shirt under the hoodie she had on to dry it by wiping all the water off it.
She was so busy drying the bullet that she had taken her eyes off the larger dog. When she looked up, the dog was gone, only the bodies of the two dead dogs remained in front of her in a pool of blood. Thunder could be heard and flashes of lighting crackled through the dark, cloudy sky. She looked left and right, searching for the dog frantically, but no sight of it. Her heart pounded in her chest as she heard a growling sound coming from behind her. She could feel the dog’s hot breath on the back of her neck. She could almost feel its long snout touching the side of her face. The sensation sent terrifying chills throughout her body causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand up straight. “Lord, please don’t let it end up like this,” Natalie prayed in her head as her hand trembled. She prayed that she didn’t drop the last bullet as she carefully placed the long bullet in the barrel of the revolver and closed it slowly. “Hahahah!” she screamed as the Great Dane opened its huge mouth and sunk its teeth in between her shoulder blades. As the dog’s teeth went deeper into her flesh, it tasted to the dog like a medium well done steak. “Aahahah!” Natalie screamed for dear life. The pain was too much for her to bear. ‘I only got one shot. I can’t afford to miss,’ she thought to herself, knowing that the angle of the dog had her in was nearly impossible to get a clear shot to put the dog down for good. She bent her left arm backwards as if she was making a muscle to show off her small biceps and felt around on the dog’s face until she found what she was searching for, praying to God that the dog did not release his grip and lock down onto her hand and rip it off and run away with it.
“Ugggahah!” she groaned and stuck her thumb nail deep into the dog’s left eye.
Asswww! The dog released his grip off her shoulder blade and howled in pain.
Natalie managed to stand and turned around. “I will not be a victim, not again!” Natalie shouted as blood leaked fast from of the teeth holes on her shoulder and neck. She dropped the revolver and stuck her both her thumb nails into the dog�
�s eyes.
Uhhhhhhh! The dog whimpered in pain and tried to shake free of Natalie’s grip.
She pushed harder, sinking her thumbs deeper into the dog’s eye sockets until the dog’s eyeballs busted. Pus mixed with blood oozed out from the eye sockets down her hands. “Die! Die!” Natalie shouted, sticking her thumbs even deeper into the eye sockets.
The dog went crazy like a wild horse trying to buck a cowboy off its back. The dog shook and snapped at Natalie’s face, but she kept him away, controlling his head until the fight in the dog slowly died down. It fell on its side as its right leg kicked repeatedly, twitching as if the dog was having a seizure.
“Uahh!” Natalie groaned while pulling her thumbs out of the dog’s eye sockets covered in blood, eye tissue, and pus. Natalie bent over and picked up her gun and raised it aiming at the dog’s head. She hesitated on squeezing the trigger as the dog made whimpering sounds and twitched around on the wet ground. Then a sense of guilt came over her. “What have I done? This can’t be right. It’s Brock that I want,” she said out loud to herself, “No. I can’t be weak. They attacked me first,” Natalie said as she squeezed the trigger. Boom! The large revolver echoed loudly like lightening cracking through the sky and the long bullet slammed into the dog’s skull, ripping up the side of its face, sending pieces of its jaw flying along with fur, flesh, and bones. Natalie stood there in the rain watching the dog take its last breath from what used to be its face as it died.
“Noooo!! No!! Stop! My dog!”
Natalie heard a voice scream and turned around to see an elderly lady in her late sixties charge towards her with a shovel in her hands. Whack! Whack!
The last sound Natalie heard as the elderly woman swung the shovel, smacking her in the face with it. Causing her to backpedal in pain and in shock before she could react, another blow came twice as hard as the first, hitting her in the temple knocking her out.
“You killed my dogs; you killed my dogs! God no.”
Natalie could hear the elderly woman scream while crying. Her cries were drowned out by police sirens. Natalie tried to open her eyes but couldn’t. She faded away into the darkness, feeling as if she was falling in a dark black hole and she could see Trevor stretching out his hand trying to reach for her before she fell into a deep sleep.
Chapter 6
Bruce walked back and forth while looking at the men work on his new gate that surrounded his fortress and the new security system for his home. He began to bite on his finger nails, chewing them and spitting them out in hopes to calm his nerves.
Penelope looked out the living room and could tell her husband wasn’t far from having a nervous breakdown. Chenille sat on the black leather sofa texting and posting pictures on Instagram.
“This isn’t right. I have do something to help. He blames himself for what happened the other day,” Penelope said out loud.
“Well, it is his fault in a kind of way. Isn’t it the man’s, father’s job to protect his family? Because of him, I have bruises on my face and can’t post no more pictures of me on line. How can I get likes that way? What if those men had killed us, or worse raped me?” Chenille asked.
“Shut up! You sound stupid. Your father had no way of knowing this would happen. He did the best he could. Because of this, we got out of this situation alive,” Penelope said while turning around shouting at her daughter.
“Yeah, if you say so. I think you should have married a real man instead of your children’s father, being scary, rich, punk, and less of a dude that is all the way black, not mixed. I heard all light skinned men are kind of soft. You should have went with an Italian. Now, they are some gangsters. I messed with few of them in my time,” Chenille replied.
“Watch your fucking mouth! Your father is a great man and takes good care of you. He will make sure we are safe,” Penelope replied.
“I don’t know what kind of lies you feed yourself and him, but that man is not my father. My father wouldn’t be so damn weak. And I look nothing like Leah. I don’t even look mixed. I took most of your genes. I still don’t want to claim that loser as my pops. A man that can’t keep his family safe, is just useless as a man who can’t provide for them!” Chenille shouted back.
Penelope slowly walked to where her daughter was sitting. The sound of the heels of her red bottom shoes clicking on the marble floor caused Chenille to look up from her phone from scrolling through Facebook. Penelope slapped her so hard that Chenille bit her own tongue. “Aaaaw!” she screamed as her mother raised her hand to hit her once more.
“No Stop!” Penelope heard Bruce say while grabbing her wrist in the middle of the swing, stopping her next blow. “She wanted you to feel how she felt. She felt bad, knowing part of what she said is true,” Bruce stated.
Penelope faced him with her mouth wide open. As a woman, she knew the fastest way to break a man completely down was to destroy his ego. To tell him that he is bad in bed or tell him he has a small dick. Or tell him he is weak and can’t protect his own family or tell him he is not a man at all because he cannot provide for his family. Any one of those things can destroy a man. Men are prideful creatures and Bruce was no different. Penelope always went out of her way to feed his ego. He acts tough and strong, but deep down he was as soft as a teddy bear. “How much of that conversation did you hear, baby?” Penelope asked in a soft tone.
“Yes. I heard most of it. For some parts, she is right. A man isn’t a man if he cannot protect his family. That is why I am going to upgrade our security,” Bruce replied.
“Oh yes and how are you going to do that, Bruce? Build a taller fence to surround our house. Oh like that really matters. Bruce, what would have been really great if you had kept us safe,” Chenille said in a sarcastic tone.
“No. I got better ways to keep us safe than just with some gates,” Bruce said and pulled out a chrome 9mm hand gun, “This is one way for starters. Next is this,” Bruce stated, and then pulled out his IPhone. He tucked the gun back in his waist line and covered it with his royal blue button down shirt. He scrolled to an App on his phone and pressed a button. Clicking sounds startled Penelope and Chenille as both of them looked around at the windows and the front door as metal gates started coming down, covering every window and door in the house.
“Oh my! What the hell? Bruce, you don’t think this is a little too much,” Penelope asked while still looking in amazement.
“No baby. Now no one can get in or out with my phone. I can completely lock our house down. Those gates are top of the line from the company I brought the security system from. They guaranteed it. They are bullet proof and 40 inches thick. It takes three hours just to cut them open with a blow torch. But, I am not done yet. I am going to get three guard dogs today. I must protect my family by any means necessary. I refuse to feel like a victim once again and feel that someone else has power over my loved ones lives in their hands. Hell No! This will never happen again. I promise that,” Bruce said meaning every word.
Penelope and Chenille just both looked at him as if he had lost his mind. The sound of the doorbell stopped the conversation. Bruce looked at his phone and pressed a button and the 70 inch living room T.V. came on and the screen displayed ten different pictures, showing all different sides of the house.
“Oh Lord, Bruce you done went fucking James Bond on us. Now, you have cameras everywhere and have it hooked to our T.V. and phone. What’s next? A secret room filled with sharks and laser guns?” Chenille asked sarcastically.
“No. I do have this,” Bruce said pulling out a rugger 9mm. “And I going to pick three guard dogs today. Robbers are going to think twice before they even step on our property. I bet they will not leave off it alive,” Bruce said meaning every word.
Chenille just shook her head in disbelief. And Penelope looked at her husband with a puzzled look in her eyes. Bruce could sense they didn’t believe him or trust him with the security and with their lives. “I will show them,” he mumbled. He walked to the kitchen and opened a side door that
led to a five car stall garage. He hopped into his Escalade, started the truck up, and hit the button on the remote on the sun visor to open the garage door and pulled off.
He reached the front gate entrance and hit another button, watching it open as he daydreamed. “What kind of man can’t protect his family, can’t protect the people he loves? They are not going to respect me. I don’t respect me,” Bruce said as he hit the steering wheel and images of one of the masked men replayed. The masked man kicking Penelope replayed in his head. He snapped out of his trance that he was in and pulled off. He drove down for about fifteen miles and pulled up in front of a pet store, which was specialized in training guard dogs.
Bruce was dressed down in an all-black silk shirt with matching black slacks and black shoes, looking like success. Every step he took, you could tell he was a man of great power, wealth, and confidence. But for those who could see passed the front he put up, the step he took wasn't as confident as it should be. In fact, he was a man whose pride had been taken from him; the worst kind of man. He entered the pet store and browsed around.
Brock 2 Page 4
