The Kiss of Death [Dave East]

01

   

       IN HER DEFENCE, ANISSA REED NEVER ASKED to be in charge of the Vicelords. She specifically remembers begging Marcus to choose someone else, but she was the only soul he trusted. Marcus was sentenced to six years in prison for arson, six very long years. Before being locked away, Marcus ensured that Anissa have a right hand man, Spades. He had everything planned and mapped out. But plans don't always stick together.

She stared into the broken mirror that she had shattered with her fist. Her eyes were dull and grey, her skin a pasty brown colour. She could hear arguments coming from downstairs. Life to Anissa was nothing but a strategic game, and there was only one quarter, no time for mistakes. Her knuckles bled like a broken faucet, dripping onto the broken and cracked ground as she made her way down the stairs. The commotion died almost immediately at the realization of her presence.

Even though nobody would admit it, the sound of her name would make anyone shake in their boots. She was a demon, a monster.

The harbour of death.

She harboured pain like it was joyful. A constant thing she'd say was that love was a disease. Spades watched her from the corner of his eye, her aura was cold. So damn cold. It made the hairs on the back of his neck spike up, but it was something he was use to. The drug dealers that stood across from him however, were at complete loss for words. It made them feel uneasy, their stomachs were doing backflips. They were scared to move, they thought if they did, she wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet between their eyes.

The ring leader for the three drug dealers name was Rico. Anissa stopped right in front of him, her face coming to meet the middle of his chest. "Are you Rico?" She asked, he was slightly surprised. Those stone cold features didn't match her voice, that and her height gave him confidence. "Yea. And we not giving you the container." Rico spat, his voice way too confident to match his body language. "Yea yea! We not giving you the container!" The boy known as ya-ya added ad-libs from behind Rico.

"Why don't we pop a 40? Negotiate prices like a pair of prof—" Rico flinched at the sound of two guns clicking. Anissa had two glocks with extended clips aimed at Ya-Ya and Reno, a menacing look on her face. She knew how to manipulate emotions well, Rico, Ya-Ya and Reno were siblings, Rico being the oldest. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that Rico was his brothers keepers. So he'd give in. "Try stalling me any longer, and I'll kill them both." She spat.

Rico snorted, trying to play it off easy, but Anissa could tell by the way beads of sweat were building around his face that she got him. "I don't care what you do with them." He shrugged. Anissa kept her gaze on him long and hard, not even looking as she shot the wall that was three inches away from Reno's temple. As Rico parted his mouth to say another word, Anissa shoved the now hot gun into his mouth, pressing the tip against his tongue. He winced and whined as it burned off his taste buds.

"We're paying you each 75G's. And it's no secret that you dumbass are hiding your loot in those empty shoe boxes under your bed. Just like every other low grade drug dealer." She stated. "And now that that's established. Give us the container number." Spades spoke from behind Anissa. Rico nodded slowly, using his fingers to sign the numbers. Spades had a photographic memory, he almost immediately memorized the seven numbers.