by Nikki Turner
Aisha could feel her blood boil as she stared at the three men in the dog cages. The hate Aisha felt as she thought about her mother’s terror and fear was so powerful her head hurt. She could hear her mother’s cries for help when her eyes fixed on Slick. Somehow she knew Slick was the rapist and she wanted him to suffer the most. The desire to inflict pain on him was so intense, Aisha almost had an orgasm.
Kayla watched Aisha. She knew exactly what she was feeling. Years before, one of Kayla’s best friends had been killed in a drive-by. She had put her ear to the streets, found the shooter, and executed him. At the time, pulling the trigger had felt exhilarating, but living with the reality of taking a life was a different battle altogether. Almost twenty years later, the face of her victim occasionally found its way into her dreams. Kayla had never imagined that she’d find herself in a similar situation with her sister Aisha. And at that moment, standing next to Aisha was the only place Kayla would be.
“Are you okay?” Kayla asked, placing her hand on Aisha’s back for support.
“I will be as soon as these muthafuckas start screaming like bitches,” Aisha replied. She kept her eyes locked on the dog cages while she spoke. “Where are the guys?”
“C said we don’t need the dogs until later, so they went to tie them up out back.”
Within arm’s reach lay an assortment of tools: a power drill, sharp and dull knives of various sizes, a staple gun, a hammer, a mallet, acid, table salt, rubbing alcohol, a plumber’s snake, dog food, and a plunger. There were also Tasers, a cattle prod, and small boxes containing live rats and poisonous spiders nearby. Meth and PCP were on hand to keep the victims awake. The last thing Aisha wanted was for them to pass out from the pain. Right now the three were napping, thanks to hits on the backs of their heads.
Aisha looked around and yanked the water hose off the floor. She turned the nozzle on full blast. “Wake the fuck up, you bastards!” she demanded. One by one, her victims coughed and struggled to figure out what was restricting their movements. The dog cages were big enough to stuff the men into with ease but small enough to prevent them from finding any comfortable position. Aisha turned the water off after five minutes of getting the men soaking wet and wide-awake. She took a moment to step back and smile at her prisoners.
“What the fuck is going on?” Slick spoke between coughing fits.
“Where in the hell are we?” Rail asked as he looked around.
“What’s going on?” a frightened Rocky questioned.
“It’s time to get this party on and poppin’, playboy,” announced C-Lok. He, Devin, and Big Black had returned from the back of the abandoned building while Aisha was showering the caged men. “You niggas knew the streets would cough you up sooner or later, didn’t you? I mean, ain’t no love in the game,” teased C-Lok. “Am I right, Black?”
“Right as rain, my man. If you do the crime, you have to be willing to do the time,” Big Black responded. “What do you think, Dee?”
“I think this right here’s a little different. These little niggas fucked up in the worst way, but we ’bout to see to it that the punishment fits the crime, fo’ sho,” said Devin devilishly.
Devin was Kayla’s older brother and a dedicated member of C-Lok’s team. Kayla may have retired from the game, but Devin had only semiretired. Doing wrong flowed through his veins. He enjoyed the rush that stealing and killing gave him, and just like his addiction to nicotine and weed, he couldn’t give them up. Memories of his twenty-five-year stint in prison kept Devin’s menacing to a limit. Devin was enjoying his freedom and not willing to give it up again.
“Who the fuck is ya’ll niggas, and what you want with us? I thought we were hooking up with Prince and his peoples,” Rocky said. His entire body shook with fear.
“We’re your worst nightmare, muthafuckas! How’s that for an answer?” Devin said.
“Let me tell you pieces of shit who I am,” Aisha said. “I’m the daughter of the saint of a woman you tortured and killed in her own home.” She spoke through clenched teeth to keep from crying. She ran her hand along the top of each cage as she circled them. “It pleases me to have you here. This is where each of you will take your last slow, painful breath before death comes to claim you. I’m personally going to see to it that you suffer the same pain and agony inflicted upon my mother.” She wanted to cry, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of witnessing any weakness on her part. It took great willpower to keep her composure. “You beat her, we’ll beat you. Her bones were broken and yours will be too. You raped a defenseless woman, and I will take great pleasure in stripping you of any measure of manhood you have right now. My mother called me Baby Girl, but you may refer to me as Dream. Just know that this is far from a bad dream—it’s your new reality.”
“Now that the introductions have been made, Dream, tell us where you want to start.” Kayla said. The two women, along with C-Lok, Big Black, and Devin, were dressed in hospital scrubs covered by white hazmat jumpers. To protect their footwear, their feet were covered with booties like the ones hospital workers and crime-scene investigators used. Multiple boxes of surgical gloves along with masonry and utility gloves were on hand.
Aisha walked over and picked up the cattle prod as an evil smile washed over her face. “They’re wet, so let’s play with this right here,” she said, holding the prod in front of her.
“Make your dreams come true, girl. The world is yours,” C-Lok said.
“So y’all got us caged up like fuckin’ animals over that bullshit? It was a mistake! We went to the wrong damn address. We didn’t mean to do that old lady. Shit just got fucked up,” Slick began, begging for his life.
“Shut da fuck up, bitch! You don’t get to have a say in this. Did my mother have a say? Did she tell you you had the wrong spot? Fuck you!” Aisha screamed. She stormed over to the cage that held Slick and jabbed him with the cattle prod. The more he screamed in pain, the harder her nipples got.
Rail and Rocky were scared to death. They both prayed to God for mercy, asking for a quick death. Tears streamed down Rail’s face as Slick lay in a fetal position next to him, yelling in agony.
“This ain’t right. Just shoot me. Ain’t that what you want in the end? Our lives?” Rail demanded a say in how he left this earth.
Aisha yanked the cattle prod out of Slick’s cage and focused her attention on Rail. “When you broke into my mother’s home, did you ask her how she wanted to die for your mistake? It took hours for my mother’s suffering to end. She lay slowly dying while your bitch asses ransacked her home. So you already picked your fate, bitch.” Aisha picked up a metal bucket filled with some sort of liquid and began slowly pouring it through the top of the dog cage. She took her time, careful not to splash any on herself. Rail’s head was her target, and she was hitting her mark. His skin made a sizzling sound as the acid met his face, neck, back, and arms. The smell of his flesh melting away was overwhelming. Being witness to the pain gave Aisha a feeling of euphoria she’d never experienced.
Rail squirmed inside the cage. His attempt to flee his jail was wasted energy. He screamed, yelled, and hollered at the top of his lungs until he couldn’t anymore. “Please kill me! Oh, my God, please kill me,” Rail pleaded for an escape from the torment and agony. His skin was boiling from the acid. Rail’s burning skin sizzled. Breathing was more difficult by the second. All he wanted to do was die. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just kill me.” Rail’s cries went unanswered.
She turned with the bucket in hand and was met by her sister’s worrying eyes. She nodded to indicate that she was all right.
“Dream, you have one left before you take a break. We’ll get them ready for the next round,” C-Lok said while passing a blunt to Big Black.
Rocky was so fearful he shit his pants. Growing up in Youngstown had offered very little to him and those around him. All his life, he’d tried to avoid the drug scene and the gangs. He went to school, played sports, and got the high school diploma his mother had urged h
im to strive for. At the end of the day, his efforts got him nowhere and nothing. School didn’t prepare him for life. He had a diploma but no skills. Living a life of poverty after watching his mother work two and three jobs at a time was discouraging. He was frustrated with their situation and wanted to help his mother financially. She was getting older and deserved to relax a little while she could still enjoy it. The only option he had was to sell rocks. He was tired of being hungry and needing basic things like shoes. He felt horrible for what he’d allowed to happen to that lady. They’d hit the wrong house, thanks to Slick’s illiteracy, and the outcome haunted him on a daily basis. It was his turn to be punished and he would take it like a man.
“What? You too big to beg and cry like your friends?” Aisha asked.
“I’m sorry,” he replied. “It was my fault your mother suffered because I wasn’t strong enough to stand up for what was right. I can’t bring her back to you. All I can say is I’m sorry.”
“What’s your name? Rocky?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the one who grew up in the Victories with Prince?” Aisha’s voice was void of anger.
“Yes, I am,” Rocky said.
“I respect what you’ve said. I respect you for manning up,” Aisha said as she walked over to the table and picked up the chrome .380. She turned back around to face Rocky. “Because I respect that, I won’t make you suffer.” She raised the gun, aimed it toward Rocky’s head, and fired.
Then C-Lok forced Aisha to take a break to give her time to get her thoughts together. It would be her decision whether to continue with the torture herself or allow Big Black and Devin to finish the job.
Kayla grabbed her duffel bag from the corner. She followed Aisha to the opposite end of the abandoned steel mill. Aisha was calm, quiet, and wet with perspiration. It devastated Kayla to watch her sister dive headfirst into the world of money, drugs, and murder. She knew Aisha’s life would be in ruins due to her thirst for revenge. “Sit down right here,” Kayla said, pointing to a chair on their right. Aisha did as she was told without hesitation. Despite her demeanor, she was fighting against herself on the inside. Her mind knew that what she was doing was wrong, but her heart felt like it was oh so right.
“Here, drink this,” Kayla instructed as she passed Aisha a cup of Ciroc and a pre-rolled blunt. Kayla twisted off the top of a water bottle and took a big swallow. It had always been her policy to keep a clear head when putting in work. Though she didn’t intend to get her hands dirty, she’d step in for her sister if it became necessary.
“These niggas are trying to pass out. Get that meth into them and wake them up,” C-Lok said.
Devin and Big Black grabbed the water bottles, which were filled with drug cocktails. Multiple pills to make one’s system race were crushed and dissolved in the water. After being shocked by the cattle prod, Slick was jonesing for a drink of water. It drained what little strength he had left just to sip the weird-tasting liquid through a straw, but he continued to swallow as long as Devin held it to his mouth.
With acid having been poured over his upper body, there was no way Rail could drink or swallow. Big Black drew the meth into a syringe and shot Rail up between his toes. The drugs prevented Slick’s and Rail’s systems from shutting down.
Big Black opened the door to Rail’s cage and dragged him out. Devin followed suit with Slick. The two broken men lay on the cold oily concrete floor fighting to bear the pain. After Big Black and Devin were finished, Rail and Slick would beg to feel their current level of pain again. They were beaten with fists and baseball bats before being stomped on with steel-toed boots. The pain was unbearable. They both prayed for death to end their suffering. The beating continued until Big Black and Devin were exhausted. Slick’s right leg, left elbow, and left hand were all broken. He would spit in his mother’s eye if it meant eliminating the pain he was in.
Rail lay six feet from his friend in worse shape. His skin was still sizzling from the acid. He was bleeding from his nose and mouth. The blood flowing into his open wounds was pure torture. He prayed to God repeatedly to take his soul. The idea of his own death had never entered his mind until he woke up inside a dog cage. At that moment, he wanted a gun put to his heart and the trigger pulled. He wanted to die and escape the pain.
Both of Rail’s eyes were mere slits. He could barely focus on the activity going on around him. Then he heard footsteps drawing closer to him.
“I’m sure your stupid ass is ready to leave this world right about now. Well, what you’re about to feel will not change your mind, playa. You have no one to blame but yourself for what you’re going through,” C-Lok preached as he walked circles around Rail’s burned body.
C-Lok reached inside a medium-sized Baggie and grabbed a handful of its contents. Rail’s body began to convulse as the table and sea salt rained down on him. The pain was too much for him to handle. He went into a seizure. Aisha and Kayla made their way back over to the men as he thrashed on the floor. Kayla had had enough. Aisha should be satisfied with the pain inflicted on the men. As far as Kayla was concerned, it was time for the group to leave and for the second team to come in and clean things up.
“C found out that it was Slick who violated Mama Bev, so Black and Dee, roll this one,” Kayla pointed at Rail, “over to that furnace. He’ll be dead soon. Infection has probably set in as we speak. After he gets what he deserves, it’s done.” Kayla spoke with great authority, and no one dared disagree. C-Lok was in a position to override her but even he knew not to go against her.
“Can one of you strip his ass naked?” Aisha said more as a demand than a question. She knew it was time to finish exacting her revenge and release her pain. Big Black used his foot to roll Slick onto his back. Slick screamed in agony as his broken leg was moved when his pants were stripped off. His high-pitched screams pierced everyone’s ears. The crying began when Big Black kicked Slick back onto his stomach. He was now ready for Aisha to finish him off.
Aisha rammed the plunger inside of Slick’s anus with all the force she could muster. “You bitch!” Slick yelled. “You can’t break me.” Next, she violated him with a wooden broomstick until blood started leaking from his anus. Slick continued to scream and cry from the torture. He was helpless to defend himself. Blood gushed from his anus forming a pool beneath him. Aisha was unfazed. She imagined the shame and disrespect her mother must have felt while he raped her. The thought infuriated Aisha to the point of no return. She hoped Slick’s insides were being ravaged with each thrust of the foreign object.
Tears streamed down Aisha’s face. She dropped the broomstick and walked over to where the two-inch Marcel curling iron was heating inside its oven. The curling iron was as hot as molten steel. “Fuck you, Slick! How about that? Fuck your mama and her mama. You’re going to hell because I’m sending you there. When you get there, tell your boys I said fuck them too!” Aisha cried right before jamming the hot curling iron into Slick’s rectum. Slick was semiconscious and near death. After giving the handle a good twist, she left it there and turned her back on him.
A smile covered Aisha’s face as she walked away from Slick, feeling satisfied and lighter. Slick passed out from the pain and blood loss. The grim reaper was holding Slick’s hand. Aisha had gotten her revenge, allowing her mother to rest in peace and her to finally sleep at night. She was happier than she had been in months.
I don’t know what everybody was tripping about. I feel strong, guilt free, and hungry for more. I may have walked in here as Aisha, but I’m leaving as Dream. I can get used to this feeling. Just the thought of more victims is making me wet, thought Aisha.
Said and Done
Aisha and Shy were enjoying a late lunch at A Piece of Soul Café & Catering, which was owned by Shy’s best friend, Cherise Peters. The ambiance was calm and relaxing in the quaint café as jazz played in the background. All her customers seemed to enjoy the setup, and Shy encouraged Cherise to keep everything the way it was. Aisha, Kayla, and Terry always
used Cherise when their company, KAT69, needed catering services.
“I’m glad you called. We haven’t talked since that day at your brother’s house. What’s been going on with you and the kids? How are the twins and that little beauty queen of yours?” Aisha asked between sips of coffee.
“Princess is spoiled as ever. How many five-year-olds do you know who have everything? Christmas and her birthdays always have me stumped. All I can do is give her an updated version of what she already has,” Shy said half jokingly. “As far as the twins are concerned, Jayden and Prince are doing well.” She picked at her apple fritter and savored the taste of her strawberry-banana smoothie while she and Aisha made small talk. After the two settled into their visit, Shy decided it was time to get to the point. “Aisha, I wanted to talk to you about what happened and how you’re dealing with it. Are you okay?”
“I’d be lying if I said sleeping some nights was easy, but I’m doing well,” Aisha said with complete honesty.
“I’m happy to hear that. Sleepless nights are part of the package when we choose to do what was done. The million-dollar question is, would you do it all over again?”
“I’ve asked myself that many times. When I think of my mother, all that comes to me are the good times we shared together. I miss Mommy every minute of every day,” Aisha said as she reached for a napkin to dab the tears rolling down her face. Shy reached across the table to hold her hand.
“I’m okay, girl. I have bad days and I have good days. The good are beginning to outweigh the bad.”
“I understand, girl. Your heart will slowly heal and the weight of your pain will get lighter,” Shy promised.
“The only time I think about what went down is when I can’t sleep. I feel no compassion for them, and I hope they’re burning in hell. So to answer your question, yes. If I had to make the decision all over again today, I’d still want to be the one to punish the punk-ass niggas who ruined my life. They robbed my mother of the joy of being a grandmother. They stole our shopping for my wedding dress together. Those three boys deserved what they got, and I have no problem living with myself.” Aisha had expected to feel guilty and experience nightmares about the torture she’d inflicted on her mother’s killers but she hadn’t. She was at peace with her actions and made no apologies for them.