Smoothen Silky

by Derek Slaton

  “Okay, that’s enough.” She shoved against him as hard as she could, and he snarled, backhanding her with enough force that she fell to the carpet.

  “You’re going to wish you gave in, bitch!” Roy hooked his hands in the collar of his shirt and jerked down, ripping it clean open. Trixie shrieked, holding her cheek, and scrambled backwards as fast as she could despite her lightheadedness.

  “Muthafucka!” Silky’s voice boomed, and Roy turned just in time to meet a jewelry adorned hand that sliced his face clean open. “Silky’s gonna teach you to hit his fuckin’ ho.”

  Rose burst into the room as Roy hit the ground, gun at the ready. She knelt to check over Trixie as Kerr stepped in behind Silky, leaning down to jerk Roy up by his hair.

  “Piece of shit,” he muttered at the shirtless frat boy, and Rose’s breath caught in her throat as she recognized him. She noticed Roy’s glasses laying on the carpet, having fallen in the scuffle, and put them on his face, blinking in shock.

  “Get his ass hooked up,” Silky ordered, and she nodded firmly, hauling him out of the room by his arm.

  “Trixie!” Mixie squealed from the hallway, clearly having come from the kitchen if her flour dusted apron was any indication. “Are you okay?” She scurried over to her fallen sister ho, who smiled up at her.

  “I am now.” Trixie ran a hand through Mixie’s honey brown locks, and shakily got to her feet. They clutched each other and then Mixie slid a hand around the back of the blonde’s neck, pulling her in for a sweet kiss.

  Kerr slid a twenty dollar bill out of his pocket, holding it out to Silky as he gazed at the two beautiful women comforting each other. The pimp grinned and took the bill, patting his recruit on the shoulder before leading him to the interrogation room.

  When they entered, Rose had Roy tied securely to a chair, and was standing in front of him, one hand thoughtfully on her chin as she scrutinized his face.

  “Fuckin’ buzzkill bitches!” He spat, writhing against his bonds. “Cocktease cunts! Get me a fuckin’ beer, I’ll drink alllll the fuckin’ beer and show you who’s the fuckin’ man! My dick is so big I can fuck your ass from all the way over here, bitch, just bend over and fuckin’ take it!” He continued to shriek obscenities at her, and she turned to her coworkers, bewildered.

  “I can’t believe that he’s acting like this,” Rose said, crossing her arms.

  “He’s a drunk frat dick, what did you expect?” Kerr shrugged.

  “You don’t understand, he wasn’t one of them,” Rose insisted, “he was a geek that got blackmailed into buying beer.”

  “People get crazy when they’re drunk,” Kerr replied, scratching the back of his head nervously. He didn’t want to bring up his stint earlier that evening, as he was still a little embarrassed by his behavior.

  “Dammit, it’s more serious than that,” she snapped.

  “We’s gonna know soon enough,” Silky cut in. “Where’s Silky’s smart ho at?”

  “Her name is Kiki,” Rose muttered under her breath.

  As if on cue, the door opened and a dark haired woman in a white cropped blouse and red kilt strode in. Kerr’s jaw dropped to the floor at her almond shaped eyes accentuated by delicate glasses on her flawless face. Her shapely calves were adorned with white knee socks, and the playful black mary janes on her feet had an impossible heel that still didn’t even get her more than a head shorter than Silky.

  “Sorry, Silky,” she was out of breath as she lifted an aluminum case onto a table in the corner. “It took a little longer than I thought to run the tox screen.”

  Kiki opened the case, producing a laptop, and slid a USB stick out of her lacy red bra.

  “That’s okay, baby,” he purred as he leaned over the computer with her. “Didja get what Silky needs?”

  “Yes, I did,” she replied excitedly as her fingers flew over the keys. “I ran a full blood tox screen and a DNA scan on him.” Her slight lean revealed the lower curve of her ass out of the bottom of her ridiculously short skirt, and Kerr fingered another twenty dollar bill in his pocket in case the pimp turned around.

  Rose rolled her eyes and moved up next to the sexy schoolgirl, peering down at the computer screen. Roy’s bellowing of profanities lowered to lewd talk about schoolgirls and their teachers, and Kerr clocked him on the back of the head.

  “Let me just bring up my data so we can analyze it,” Kiki was saying as Silky sat down, appraising her long creamy legs.

  “Mm, mm, mm, ole Silky would analyze that all night long.” He winked, and she giggled as she worked. Kerr marveled at Silky’s charisma, and not for the first time. But you don’t get to be the most famous pimp in heaven if you’re not charming.

  Kiki’s face hardened. “Oh no, this isn’t good at all.”

  “Talk to Silky, baby, what we got here?” He leaned forward, but the graphs on the screen didn’t mean anything to him.

  “Slut, get over here and sit on my fuckin’ face, I bet you taste so fuckin’ sweet,” Roy babbled, and Kiki furrowed her brow, turning around to face their bound prisoner.

  “This guy is sober,” She said, and the other three stared at him, wide eyed.

  “I’m going to go out on a limb and say that isn’t good,” Kerr piped up.

  “Come on baby, spread your fuckin’ legs, Imma tear you in fuckin’ half,” Roy continued.

  “How can someone be that annoying and be sober?” Rose crossed her arms, eyeing him warily. She had known something was up as soon as she’d seen that it was Roy who had tried to assault Trixie. Even if he’d been lying earlier that day, pretending to be a victimized nerd to get some ass, this was too insane for him to have been fully acting.

  “Silky knows a brotha’s goin’ to go balls out fo a nice set o’ titties, but goddamn, this skinny bitch done drove this cracka crazy.”

  “The Princess did this?” Rose motioned to him. “She can do this?”

  Kiki turned back to the computer, and shook her head in worry. “Silky,” she tugged on his sleeve.

  “What is it, baby girl?” He leaned over her.

  “There’s something much worse,” she said, and both Rose and Kerr immediately turned to look. “This is what a normal DNA chain is supposed to look like.” Kiki pointed to a diagram she’d brought up on the screen. “And this is his DNA chain. See the extra lines here, and here?”

  “What you tryin’ to say, sweet cheeks?” Silky asked.

  “I have a theory, but it’ll be confirmed in a moment when the program is done running it’s calculations,” she replied, biting her lip.

  “DNA chains? How can she do all of this?” Kerr blurted.

  Silky smiled proudly. “Kiki here was the charter member in Silky’s Fuckin’ for a Future program. Graduated with a masters-”

  “Doctorate,” Kiki interjected.

  “Silky apologizes,” he replied, putting a hand over his chest to emphasize his guilt. “She graduated with a doctorate in some fucking techy mumbo jumbo that yo dumb ass wouldn’t understand, dig?”

  “You have no idea what it is, do you?’ Kerr raised an eyebrow.

  “Not a fuckin’ clue.” Silky nodded.

  “Okay,” Kiki said, and everyone leaned back in again. “This first line is some sort of spiritual trigger. It’s something that can alter DNA on a spiritual level, often driving the victim insane.”

  “Okay?” Kerr shrugged. “So what’s the problem?”

  “When the spiritual trigger is activated, the victim’s soul is ripped out and they spend all eternity in a painful void,” Kiki explained.

  “Still don’t see a problem,” he shook his head. “Who cares if a bunch of dickhole fratboys lose their souls?”

  “Muthafucka, think of Silky’s profits!” The pimp smacked Kerr on the back of the head. “If all these dumbass white boys get their souls ripped out, then who’s goin’ to partake in Silky’s fine ass assortment o’ hos?”

  “And it’s not just that,” Kiki added, “often when such a trigger is activa
ted it is for something much more sinister.”

  “Such as?” Rose prompted, lips in a thin line.

  “The most common use is to summon a legendary demon.” She adjusted her glasses on her face, turning back to Roy.

  “Legendary demon?” Kerr asked. “What do we do if that happens?” He cracked his knuckles.

  “Be somewhere else.” Kiki shoved his fists down with a sigh. “Those demons are powerful enough that they’ve been sealed away by the Agency’s predecessors. They have been increasing in power, and since they’ve been locked away in their own personal hell, they typically come out very, very pissed off.”

  “Wait, you work for the Agency too?” Kerr stared at her, taken aback.

  “Of course I do.” She shrugged. “Why?”

  “Just…” He motioned to her outfit, and then ran the hand through his hair to try to recover his possible rudeness.

  “Just because I’m a professional doesn’t mean I can’t dress up in a sexy outfit.” Kiki winked at Silky, and he tipped his hat to her.

  “Truer words ain’t never been spoke, baby doll,” he purred, and she giggled.

  “So,” Kerr prompted and coughed, trying to direct the conversation away from his hormonally charged question. “Legendary demons have escaped before?”

  “We try to make sure it doesn’t get to that point,” Rose replied, taking her bottom lip between her teeth as she continued to watch Roy thrash about and yell.

  “But it has happened before?”

  “The last time it took 17 agents to bring it down.” She looked him dead in the eye. “Only two walked away.”

  “Okay.” Kerr gulped. “Let’s make sure it doesn’t get to that point.”

  “Oh, fuck,” Kiki blurted, snapping everyone to attention. “We’re in trouble.”

  “Talk to Silky, baby,” Silky leaned forward.

  Her almond eyes were wide as she turned to him. “The second chain is a tracer strain.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Kiki slammed the laptop shut, shoving it quickly back in the aluminum case.

  “Get the other hos and get outta here,” Silky pointed a finger at her, and then turned quickly to Rose. “You be takin’ care of our boy there and then get out the back. Wonder bread, you be comin’ with Silky to the basement.”

  “The basement? What?” Kerr threw his hands up. “What’s a tracer strain?”

  “Goddammit you honky numbskull, how in the fuck did you pass yo entrance exam?!” Silky grabbed the back of the recruit’s collar and hauled him through the house. “Tracer strain means they know where we’s at, they’s trackin’ us.”

  “Oh,” Kerr mentally smacked himself. “Fuck.”

  “That’s right, fuck.” The pimp nodded as they reached the basement door. There was a sound of glass shattering as he opened the door and waved the recruit inside. “Good luck, cracka.”

  “Wait, what about you?” Kerr asked in a panic.

  “Hos before bros, muthafucka,” Silky gave a little salute, and held out his 9-iron like a baseball bat. “Once they’s safe Silky’ll be back to get you.”

  “But-”

  “Get yo honky ass down them fuckin’ stairs!” His eyes blazed.

  “Alright.” Kerr scowled and reluctantly descended the steps.

  Rose sighed as she unsheathed her ceremonial knife, looking down at Roy with sadness in her gaze. He really had been a nice nerd.

  “I’m sorry, Roy,” she said sincerely. “You didn’t deserve this.”

  “Go fuck yourself, bitch-” he started, spittle flying from his maniacal mouth, but she cut him off by burying the blade into his skull.

  He disintegrated into demon gunk right before her eyes, and she pursed her lips at the fact that it was indistinguishable from any other demon gunk. The poor guy had deserved better.

  She reached up to touch her cheek in shock, finding a tear there. She brushed it away with a ragged gasp and shoved any more thoughts of Roy out of her head. It was time to get the fuck out of dodge.

  Rose slid the knife back into her combat boot and moved silently down the hallway. She slipped into the kitchen, and immediately vaulted over the island as pink shirts barreled in from every angle. She scrambled up onto the far counter, hoping to get to the window over the sink, but a firm hand clamped around her ankle.

  She snatched a baking sheet from the sink, whipping it in a tight arc to smash into the frat dick’s face. He dodged but let go of her ankle to tuck and roll away, leaving a second guy to pop up on her other side. She swung her legs out of his reach and leapt for the island again in a twisted game of ‘the floor is made of lava’.

  Pots and pans cackled against each other as she bumped the hanging shelf with her shoulder. She dropped the baking sheet with a metallic clang onto the tile floor and took a cast iron skillet in hand, bringing it down hard on the head of the attacker trying to pop up from below.

  She swept her leg around with a whoosh, aiming for another face to her right, and when she missed, he jumped up beside her. He grabbed the hanging shelf of kitchen utensils and jerked it down, stainless steel and iron crushing her beneath the wooden frame.

  She cried out and wriggled as hard as she could, managing to slip out from beneath the trap and hit the tile floor with a hard smack. A heavy lump landed on her back, knocking the wind out of her, and she lost her grip on the heavy pan. She reached out blindly as a fist wound its way into her hair and yanked on a drawer, wrenching it free and flinging it back over her head.

  It connected with something, and wooden spoons rained down on top of her, bouncing and clattering all around. Her attacker grunted and she managed to squirm away from him, his hands groping for her legs as she did so.

  She got to her feet and opened the freezer door just in time to clothesline a guy making a run at her, and he fell onto drawer-head on the floor. She turned tail and bolted for the door, but another frat boy slammed into her midsection and tackled her to the tile.

  She screamed in frustration as another one joined his friend, and between the two of them they were able to pin her before she could get at her knife in her boot. She spat and kicked and shrieked, but they overpowered her, flipping her face down onto the floor.

  “I will fucking end you motherfuckers!” Rose cried as they secured her wrists behind her back with zip ties, and then her ankles. One of them dislodged the ceremonial knife and buried it into the wall as they hauled the snarling wildcat of a woman out the back door.

  “Go on, babes, Silky’ll see you soon,” the pimp in the mint green suit handed Kiki the keys to the truck.

  “You be safe, love,” she ran a hand down his face and kissed his lips softly, languidly. He wanted to drop his cane and bury himself into her right there in the sand, but Smoothen Silky had a recruit to take care of.

  “Don’t you be worryin’ about ole Silky,” he said with a squeeze of her tight ass, and bit his lip. “He’s gonna be just fine. You hos take care of each other, now, get d’fuck outta here.” He watched them barrel into the truck, Mixie at the wheel, and speed away towards the parking lot.

  He turned and jogged back to the house, staying low in the shadows in case of any uninvited frat dicks. He peered in through the front window, and there was nobody there. An angry screech filled the air and his blood ran cold. That was Rose’s voice.

  Silky barreled through the door, hurtling through the house just in time see through the back sliding door. There were two pink shirts carrying Rose’s thrashing form off of the porch into the sand. He lunged forward but two pink blurs swept into the way, knocking him back.

  “Silky’s had e-fucking-nough of you needledicked pussies!” He lifted his 9-iron and his left leg, hopping in a graceful roundhouse kick that his opponents didn’t expect. Upon landing, he jabbed out with his fist, connecting with a demon jaw, the force of his punch crushing cartilage and bone.

  Two more polo shirts burst into the room and made to tackle him from behind, but he ducked and rolled under them. One ended u
p hitting his buddy like a bowling ball, but the other wised up and tucked his shoulder into a somersault to land on his feet.

  Silky took advantage of the confusion to hurl his body into a front flip, bringing his heel down onto an upturned face. The crunch of his skull was telling and the pimp smirked as he lashed out with the golf club and caught another frat dick in the chin.

  That one crumpled to the carpet, and Silky drew his knife, executing a perfect cartwheel and using the momentum to plunge it into the asshole’s throat. He gasped in a series of squelching swallows and one of the other frat guys immediately hurled himself out the sliding door, running scared from the experienced killer.