Black and Blue: The Calm

10. Filler

Thursday
September 30th, 2013
11:49 PM

Elijah D.

I walked inside of the warehouse and headed downstairs to the cellar. I entered the code on the keypad and the automatic doors slid open. Chino had his foot posted against the wall as his fingers worked rapidly against the screen of his phone while Mali and Dray were laying plastic down over the hard concrete floor.

I snickered as I watched the man frantically rock back and forth in his chair, in impossible hopes of breaking free from the straps that secured his arms to the arm of the chair and his feet to the leg of the chair. He attempted to speak, maybe even yell. I wouldn't know due to the ball gag restricting him from speaking. "Oh, y'all some dirty niggas," I laughed, "violating my man's first amendment and shit. I do believe that's against the law."

"Nigga wouldn't shut the fuck up! Doing all the hootin' and hollerin' like a bitch," Chino scoffed as he slid his phone in his pocket. I walked over to Wise, who was born as Jeremy Franklin, and pulled the ball gag from his mouth. He dramatically coughed as if the nigga really couldn't breathe. If he knew what's in store for him tonight he wouldn't want to breathe.

We spent hours exporting the image from the security cameras of the strip club and running facial recognition to get a match to the corresponding ID. "Jeremy Franklin," I started, "21 years old. Damn, I have a younger brother your age. Born and raised in Chesapeake, Virginia." He snarled at me and if looks could kill I'm pretty sure I'd be dead. "You're the youngest of five, belonging to Greta and Samuel Franklin. Lucky kid," I nodded. "I was also fortunate enough to have a two parent household until my mother was killed. No kids," I continued, "high school drop out and you worked as a plumber."

I looked at his feet, "those Giuseppe's are a long way from plumbing aren't they," I stared at him. "Why would you try to kill me?" He clenched his jaws and stared at me. "You're being extremely rude, Jeremy. I'm speaking to you like a man, the least you could do is reciprocate the respect and decency I'm giving you."

"Suck my dick," he spat. My eyes widened and I extended my head back, "suck your dick?" He laughed and nodded, "Yeah, nigga. Suck my fucking dick. If your dead mother was alive she'd be sucking my dick, too. Like mother, like son." I laughed and clapped my hands at his attempt to get a rise out of me.

"Enough about my mother, let my sweet lady rest in peace, yeah? I'ma ask you again. Why did you try to kill me?"

"You gotta die, my nigga," he simply said. I nodded my head and walked over to the cart that held a machete, sledge hammer, knives, electric drill, pliers, and so much more. "If I recall correctly," I grabbed a knife and held it into the light as I stared at it, "you let your fingers curl around that trigger. The very same trigger that could have ended my life." I walked over to him, "we have to do something about those trigger happy fingers. They could really get someone hurt." His hand lie flat against the wooden arm of the chair and I rested the machete against his fingers. "We can't have that now, can we? The last thing America needs is a bunch of trigger happy muthafuckas running around. We already have the police for that." I began to cut at the bones in his fingers, one by one, severing them from his hand as he yelled in agony through clenched teeth.

I watched his fingers fall onto the the plastic. "Why did you try to kill me?" He gritted his teeth, blowing spit from his mouth in the process, "fuck you."

"Fuck me," I asked rhetorically. "You speak to me so crazy, Jeremy. What did I ever do to you?" I walked over to the cart and placed the machete back on the cart before grabbing the sledge hammer. "All I need to know is why you tried to kill me and you can walk out of here."