by Sa'id Salaam
"Where are the rest?" Kristine asked in a panic. The feeling was too intense to simply be one vampire.
"There are no more. He ate them," Prince said when he realized who the man was. "This is Count Vladimir, Katrina's husband."
"We meet at last," Vladimir said down at them since he now stood ten feet tall.
"What do you want!" Kristine demanded and tried to step in front of her husband. She would gladly die for him but had a deadly weapon so she could kill for him. The bullets were laced with Martin's vampire killing blood. Prince pulled her behind him and cocked his own weapon.
"There can be only one. With the help of your son's blood, I'll make the world my slaves," Vladimir boomed.
"Oh, you want my son's blood?" he asked and turned to his wife. "He wants our son's blood."
"Well, let's give it to him!" she laughed. Both raised their guns and emptied them into the super-sized vampire. They had used this weapon before and it killed vampires instantly. They would sizzle like bacon as it burned them from the inside out. Instead, Vladimir lolled his head back in laughter as if the thirty rounds tickled.
"My turn!" Vladimir announced and attacked. He moved on Prince first, but Kristine transformed into her wolf and lunged. The Count hit her with a casual backslap that sent her a hundred feet.
Prince made a lunge of his own, but Vladimir snatched him off of his feet. He embraced his so tightly, the sound of ribs breaking could be heard over the ominous thunder in the sky.
Kristine shook off the shock and jumped back into the fray. She drew her fangs and claws and attacked. Vladimir tossed Prince against a tree and broke his back. Luckily, the solution of Martin's blood healed his broken bones. He joined his wife and fought him with everything they had. They were no match for him, even supercharged by the undiluted solution.
Vladimir patted his mouth and yawned dramatically as he fended them both off with one hand. He let out an amused chuckle and backhanded them both away. They flew another hundred feet into a park bench.
"Now, where is the boy?" he boomed so loud, it set off a small dust devil. The mini cyclone scooped up pigeons and squirrels as it rolled by.
Prince and Kristine looked him, then each other. They were on the verge of being defeated and knew he would find Martin. Kristine reluctantly pulled the last trick from her bag of tricks. The syringes of their son's pure blood. It would turn them into God knows what but would very possibly kill them. Vladimir would certainly kill them, so she handed one to her husband and injected herself with the other.
"Ah, yes. I can feel the boy!" Vladimir pronounced when they stood. They began marching back towards him and he towards them. Soon, they were all speeding towards destruction.
Vladimir doubled in size to twenty feet when they were within feet of the couple. The couple transformed into a large lion and lioness. The Count tried to put on the brakes, but it was too late.
The lions stood as tall as he was with three feet long fangs and claws. The lioness went for a leg and clamped on. She pulled it away as the lion bit away a chunk of his midsection.
Vladimir healed himself instantly but it didn't help. The lion pair tore him limb from limb. Prince slammed him to the ground with a giant paw and pressed his claws into his chest while Kristine snatched off body parts quicker than he could regenerate.
Prince felt his claw inching towards his beating heart. He let out a mighty roar that his son heard as Melcina rushed him to their safe house in the Bronx. Martin's head turned back to the direction of the park.
Vladimir's eyes went wide when he felt his black heart being pulled from his chest. Both lions bit it in half and swallowed. A bolt of lighting lit the sky as Vladimir's thousand year reign had came to an end.
The clouds rolled back out and made room for the sun. Prince and Katrina shrank back into their human form while what was left of the count sizzled in the sun.
"My dear," Prince said and extended his hand. His wife took and he led her to a bench.
"He'll be fine. Melcina knows what to do," Kristine said as they sat and she laid her head on his shoulder. They had instructed Melcina on how to raise their son in case of their demise.
"Yes, fine," Prince agreed. They shared a parting kiss as their insides began to smolder. Smoke billowed from their ears and nostrils. She laid her head back on his shoulder and let out a sigh. It would be her last.
Prince took a few more breaths and joined his wife in death. Their bodies began internal combustion until they were reduced to dust. A gentle breeze whipped in and scattered their ashes over central park.
"There can be only one," young Martin said when he could longer feel his parents presence. A lone tear escaped his eye and ran down his face. It ran down his nose, over his lip and hung on his fangs.
Coming Soon
Rotten Lil Peaches
A Novel by
Sa'id Salaam
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. Unauthorized reproduction, in any manner, is prohibited.
This book is dedicated to my best friend Tisha. Then my family of readers. Special thanks to Lisa Moore for helping me come up with the title.
Autumn Jackson had a rough life in the rough streets of Southwest Atlanta. The smart girl has plans and visions of life beyond her bleak surroundings. A life-changing incident at the age of fifteen transforms the sweet girl into another person. Her innocence is lost and she is willing to do whatever it takes to secure that bag.
Her and close friends, Meka and Qianna, set off on a journey to run up a check up. They follow the bad examples of the bad girls in the hood while adding their own unique twist. Will they achieve the riches they seek or die trying?
Chapter 1
They say money is the root of all evil, but I'd rather be evil than broke or hungry. Only thing worse than being broke or hungry is being broke and hungry. I can remember the day I changed like it was yesterday. It was ten years’ worth of yesterdays, but I vividly recall the day I got turned out. Not sexually, but that wasn't too far behind.
I grew up in a rundown apartment complex in Atlanta's wild Westside. They called it Swats for short as in south west Atlanta, but I saw the SWAT TEAM damn near every day of my life.
Crack was our number one commodity that fueled all other enterprises. The dope boys were kings and their baby mamas were the ghetto princesses. They couldn't be the queens because there was just too many. I wished I had a dope boy daddy or any daddy for that matter. My mama was one of those hoes a rolling stone rolls over but didn't lay his hat. Just made a baby and kept on rolling.
I remember my mother squinting at me when I was little. I used to think she needed glasses but come to find out she was trying to see who I looked like. I was quite a few shades lighter than her with naturally curly hair and slightly slanted eyes.
I guess she never did figure it out, so the city of Atlanta took care of us.
Uncle Section 8 paid our rent, my aunt’s food stamps kept the fridge filled. Well, sometimes because other times my mom sold them for her medicine. That's what she called the kush, dro, purp and reggie she took daily doses of. This chick was on medicinal marijuana before it was medicinal.
All my clothes came courtesy of the good will of other people and the Goodwill store on Glenwood. There was one closer but my mama didn't want no one saying I had on their kid’s hand-me-downs. That was for her sake, not mine since she really wasn't that concerned with my welfare; that's how I got turned out.
***
"Hey, mama!" I cheered as the front door began to open. I hopped up and rushed over to meet her before she even stepped inside. Not that I missed her so much but because my ass was hungry. School was out, so there was no lunch. I had no choice but to wait for my mama to come home with some food.
"H
ey, Autumn. This my friend, Ione," she said leading a tall light skin man inside. I opened my mouth to be polite but his greedy glare made me forget my manners.
"Hey, Autumn," he smiled as he scanned my 15-year-old body. I was pretty proud of my little C cups and always sticking my chest out, but I shrank under his gaze. I didn't mean to wear the tiny shorts but one, I was at home and two, I didn't have much else. That was fine by Ione, who gave my yellow legs a long look with his hazel eyes.
"Say hey, heifer!" my mama fussed. When she did, she brought my attention to the bags of food she had in her hands.
"Hey, Mr. E-own," I said since my ass was country as socks and sandals back then. I still am but I know how to turn it on and off now. I couldn't pronounce Ione back then but boy, did I learn. "You got us Red Lobster?"
"Bitch, he got me Red Lobster!" my mother snapped and laughed a dry, humorless laugh that changed my life. I was used to getting laughed at since I was the poorest girl in the poor neighborhood. But that laugh made my empty stomach churn. I ate the last of the grits, without a grain of salt or piece of butter, fourteen hours ago and this chick was laughing at me with a bag full of food in her hand. Growing up in such a violent neighborhood allowed me the thought of pushing her down and running off with the food, to cross my mind. Lucky for me, what came with that, crossed my mind right behind it.
"Don't be like that, Desi. We got plenty," Ione said, coming to my aid. That of course came with another scan of my body. I was too naive to know that my little shorts that were pulled up into my crotch could move a man. He probably thought I had a little fatty down there but it was just a puff of pubic hair that had never went public.
I was only 15, but well on my way to being as fine as my mama. Desi wasn't the prettiest chick in the chicken coup but God made up for it with a heaping helping of booty and big firm D cups. She knew her body was her bread and butter and did those workout videos every day. I was a younger, smaller version of her but pretty with it.
"There's plenty of food in there!" she insisted and led him into her well apportioned room. The rest of the apartment looked like we was waiting on the movers to come bring us our stuff, but her room was decked out.
She had a black lacquer bedroom set that barely fit the small room. I guess that’s why all her company ended up in her bed. She had a big flat screen seated royally on the dresser, along with a stereo and DVD player. I ain't have shit in my room except a hand me down bed she pulled from the curb while I was at school, and a closet half full of ill fitting hand-me-downs from older siblings I didn't have.
"But, mama..." I moaned under my breath since Desi didn't mind putting her smack down no matter who was around. That's how I learned to fight so well. I vowed she would be the only one to ever whoop me. I was a pretty girl but pretty rough too back then. I fought both boys and girls if they wanted it. I wouldn't always win but I would always fight.
I could hear my mama and her friend laughing, talking and eating through the thin wall as I sat in my room and read. Most of my friends didn't read but I kept my head in a book since I didn't have a TV, though there were times, Desi would invite me over to watch ratchet TV with her; mainly, because she didn't have any female friends. I was too young to understand since she was incapable of being a friend to. Then, our “friendship” was only when we had our cycles since men didn't stay the night that those would come.
It wasn't long until the smell of mama's so-called medicine began to seep through the cheap sheetrock and HVAC vents. I covered my face to prevent inhaling the secondhand smoke. I planned to go to college and wasn't going to let nothing slow me down.
Their chatter died down once they finished smoking and they began to kiss, grope and undress. Soon the bed began to squeak slowly and uncertainly, then build in momentum when Ione found his stroke. I could tell when it was coming to an end by the rhythm of the headboard hitting my wall.
Wait for it... I giggled to myself and on cue, Desi did her thing.
"Ooh, I'm finna cum!" she declared. I swear she had to be faking all them orgasms cuz every time she had a man over, she said the same thing. Shoot, I wish I could cum every time I have sex. I had no business listening but they was right next door and the head board was banging on my wall.
"Go on and cum then!" he growled in rhythm with the beat, playing on the wall. Shoot someone could rap to that beat if they wanted to.
"Okay, I'm cumming!" she shrieked and I could hear her whining and thrashing around in her bed. Ione grunted and busted a nut of his own. I knew what would happen next and mama came out to get a wash rag to clean them off. Once she was back in her room, I made my move. I eased out of my room and went to check the kitchen once more in case I missed something. One time I found a can of peas in the cupboard. I used to not like peas but them shits were good! I fucks with peas now.
"Man!" I moaned when nothing was to be found anywhere. I twisted my thick lips and pursed my chinky eyes in defeat. Another night of sleep for dinner and I had to accept it. I turned to go back to bed and saw the Red Lobster bags in the trash.
I tried to walk away with dignity but I was too hungry. My trifling mama pushed the bags down into the can, so I knew something was in them. I crept, took the containers out and rushed into my room.
"Okay, Winter," I sighed and summoned my alter ego. See, I ain't schizophrenic or nothing, I just have another personality who does things I can't do. I named her Winter cuz she so cold.
Even Winter frowned in disgust when she opened the container and saw our mama dumped an ashtray in it. It had plenty of food in it but it was all covered in grey menthol and blunt ashes; not to mention a full condom of yellow cum.
Winter’s bad ass plucked the rubber out and took the food into the bathroom. She washed it off just like mama had just did that man's dick. It washed away all the ash and some of the flavor but so what? We was finna eat some Red Lobster.
I ate some shrimp scampi, almost a whole biscuit, a couple of crab legs and a whole salad. That must have been Desi's cuz she don't like salad. Someone didn't like chocolate cake either cuz I found a whole piece.
Once my hunger was staved off, I had to come back to reality. The ugly reality was that I just ate out the garbage. I rinsed a full condom and ashes away and ate trash. I was in mourning because a piece of me died that day. My innocence was no more.
I listened to my mother getting back shots in the next room and realized that's how she stayed fly and high. All she had to offer was her body and I got a body too; plus, a brain cuz I'm smart. Smart enough to want more than some weed and a big ass TV. I want it all and money was the key.
Chapter 2
"Hey Duck!" Qianna gushed and batted her eyes at the cute dope boy in our apartment complex. He was a couple years older than us but was already out of school. He didn't walk across no stage though. The only thing he graduated from was from selling weed to crack, and from juvenile to grown man jail since he was 17.
"Sup," he nodded at her but checked me out from head to toe. He turned away like I was nothing special and took a toke off his weed.
"Can I have five dollars to get us some weed?" Qianna asked and put her hand on her hip to remind him of when she let him put his hand on her hips. I still remember when she bragged about letting him hit, so I didn't understand his answer.
"Nah, here," he said and offered the two-inch blunt smoldering between his fingers. I didn't smoke so it was plenty for her.
"Appreciate it," she said and plucked it from his hand. It was more than he said after he busted a nut in her without a care in the world. The city of Atlanta took care of most of the kids in the hood, so dudes didn't care anything about making them.
We walked over to our little stoop where we posted up and hung out all day. There were plenty of better stoops in our apartment complex but we were too young to claim them. The dope boys held down the ones in the rear to put a little distance between them and the cops. The older girls got the choice stoop where passing cars could see them. They posted up
with their legs cocked open like a fisherman putting a worm on his hook. If the right car came along with the right sized rims and honked, they would run off and become a baby mama.
"Hey, Duck," Meka sang as she made her way over to us. She was our third musketeer who hung out with us from sun up to sundown.
"Sup, lil mama," Duck smiled and took full notice of our fine little friend. She had a daddy who was a dope boy who regularly dropped off dope money to her mama. Meka was able to buy the latest hoochie fashions and keep her hair done. He dug into his pocket and quickly retrieved a ten-dollar bill without even being asked. "Here, in case you need some weed or something."
"Appreciate it," she sang and continued on to us.
"Look at Meka!" I laughed at all the extra she put on her walk as she walked away from Duck. He was locked in on her wiggling booty in the tiny booty shorts.
"Why he gave you money but ain't give me none?" Qianna moaned when she arrived. "I gave him some kitty kat too!"
"That's why. I ain't gave him none, so he sweating me," she explained. She would know since she and her mama were close. They were close in age too, but her mother took time to school her about men and she schooled us.
My mother was all about herself and Qianna's mother was all about that base. Free base that is, since she was a junkie. We would pretend like we ain't even see her scurrying around the complex. Turning tricks and sucking dicks to keep her pipe full; she didn't care where she did it either. We done walked up on her with some nigga dick in her mouth so many times it ain't even funny.
"Anyway," Qianna huffed and tried to pass her what was left of the tiny blunt.
"I'm good," she declined. Meka smoked plenty but didn't want to burn her fingers on the roach.
"Girl, I had Red Lobster last night! It was so good!"