"You a bitch ass nigga!" Aleigha hollered. "I gave you what I owned. Stop making my mama fight!"
"I like watching her fight..." said God. "Her soul... is golden..." Guards held Hanielle's arms back. God moved to her, holding her neck. "What a sacrifice. I could live forever with a soul like that..."
"Get your fucking hands off my mama!" the guards chained Aleigha down with the Power of Word. God saw at Aleigha. "You a rough ass nigga, and annoying. I'm the demon in the streets." God put his palms in pockets. "I hear things."
"I fucking can't stand--"
"That's why you're sitting down." his shimmered. "Rest that mouth."
"Why did you disown me?" he exclaimed. "Disown?"
"You call yourself a God, you the biggest egoist I know."
"Watch yo mouth. John read the damn slab." he sneered. "You wanna take my crown?"
"I'd do much better than you!" He jerked the chains. "So what you finna do, kill me?"
God lifted his right hand, A large type 89. "Just stand there." He aimed the gun. "So, you really don't give a fuck?"
"I guess not." his finger tapped the trigger. "I'm yo fucking son! John ain't shit! That nigga ain't no fucking saint!"
"That woman is a massive disaster." he rolled his neck. "She was getting beat at home. Sold, prostituted, all at the age of 10... then I found her--"
"And put her through more fucking pain."
HE took a glimpse at Aleigha. "Why is your name a Aleigha."
"Aww," he frowned. "don't like mirrors. Old superstition, the mirror is a reflection of the soul."
God grimaced and sniffed. "Being blind never felt so kind."
He held down the trigger.
.
.
.
For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.
.
.
.
Aleigha spat on the ground. His nose was bloody and his body unclothed. His fingers had been chopped off and his lips sowed. Hanielle crawled on the dirt towards her son. "Lie..."
"Mama...?" he couldn't turn his neck. "Liar..." she moved her body up moving towards him. "God ain't shit." Her legs had been cut and his left leg and neck broke. "Baby don't move..."
"You tryin' to be funny?" he chuckled and stopped with the pain in his chest. Hanielle rested on his stomach, she was breathing heavily. "I stopped caring years ago. I got raped once before at 12, 16, and blood sucked at 13 and 14 and 16."
"What happened at 15?"
"You... God a bitch." she coughed. "You ready to Go?"
"To the next level?" his fingers rubbed the grass. "We really dying..." His mother's head was heavier. "Mama..."
No sound, he couldn't move. "Mama!" his eyes stung. He had collected 14,000 souls and killed 670 people. Not much of a record but that's how the world worked. You had to prove you earned. A right to live... to breathe.
What was it all for if a nigga's word wasn't bond. Everyone wanted to sit in church and preach.
It was always what God had done for them. God, himself, asked what had the world done for him? What had the world, his realm, his inhabitants done for him?
What a bitch ass vampire.