"What?" I get off the couch and face him. Jose releases a long sigh, "I'm so sick of that fucking eye." he mutters. "I raped Mokiri. Why?" he twists around with his lips together. "I'm a pedophile. We're all fucking dead. You hear me? Does it make any sense?"
I'm dead. I'm not confused about being dead. I'm not confused about how I died. But why does he say I don't know.
Jose frails his arms out to his side. "You don't know!" he shouts. "This realm, the Ghytto is nextdoor... and these fucking vampires come out and rape neck and take people hostage. It's close to God. Did you get that?"
"You have a gun in the house?"
"So what? You wanna shoot me? I raped your little friend. I got executed in prison for the sexual assault of children. I was sex trafficking!" I rub my neck and take a deep breath. "I went all over the Ghytto just kidnapping. The Gods of the world are made up, especially the damn snake. It's all fake."
"But it's real." I swipe the lamp off the table and swing it at Jose. He holds his face and my feet dash towards him, knocking him to the ground. This feels oddly familiar.
His eye blackens, his lip bleeds, purple starts to show around his broken nose. He's not fighting me back. I get off him and pull him up. "You finna find me a body!"
"Fuck you..." he slurps leaking blood. "I can't see out my right eye."
"Nigga do you think I give a fuck!" I grab his collar and ram his head into the bars of the stair railing. "You got rites?"
"Hell nah..."
"You my bitch today. Now, we finna go look for this child. Anything else you wanna tell me?"
"I like looking..."
I push Jose into the kitchen and go to the stove. Turning it on, I force his head on the hot plate but he fights me. I grab the skillet and knock him upside his head.. As the edge of the forehead hits it, I continuously beat him with the iron skillet. "You stupid fucking--" Why did it rush to me. My eyes start swelling and I refuse. What is all this for?
I keep beating him and beating him. There's blood on the stove. I heard his head crack, the kitchen stinks. I shove him off the stove. I drop the skillet and tears start running down my eyes.
I'm about to work him.
.
.
.
"Why the fuck I ain't got clothes?" Jose jerks the pole he's tied to outside. "Ok," I look up from the map of rituals. "I revived you--"
"Fuck you nigga!"
"Amen. So, next, I need a body and I don't want yours."
"You can't do this shit!"
"Why the fuck not?" I roll up the paper. "I could. I can." I stride towards him. "And I will." I grab Jose's face and my thumbnail pierces his left cheek. Puncturing a hole in his mouth. "You taste my thumb?"
He grits his teeth. "Good."
"Fuck... you!"
"Can't, dick too mean." My eyes glow, "I feel cannibalic. Don't talk to me. I have to get you reins."
"Negro de culo de MONO rosa y chocolate. ¡Así es como te ves! No eres un verdadero vampiro, eres una perra negra falsa!"
"I'll ask about that later."
As I walk back into the house. I need a rope and something like a skewer, preferably metal. I head to the garage and of course, he has a toolset against the wall at the far end of the garage. There's a riding lawn mower covered by a big dirty blanket. "That's nice." I remove it just to fiend off any scares. And I was right. There's a dead body under it. A white man wearing a white shirt and short blue pants.
I dig through his pockets and this man still has his car keys. Who the fuck was in the attic? That question is going to bug me. Did he live here or is this a neighbor?
I check his other pocket to find his wallet.
Name: Alex Dick Jones
DOB: 14th Apr 1893
Ethnicity: South Asian
This has to be a fake ID because Asian ain't nowhere on his face. What did I come in here for? Rope and reign. I go over to the toolset and I find rope on the table but I need something to stab him—the kitchen.
I could use a fork. No, something longer... It's a blow torch in the garage I could take the handle off something. What about a whisk?
Lucky and unlucky he has a whisk. Jose is trying to pull the pole out of the ground in the backyard. Obviously, that doesn't work. "Will you stop trying to fuck the pole!"
"Let me go!" he demands. "nah son—You just triggered bad memories so now I gotta be a stick in your ass. And mouth."
"What the fuck—you know what fuck it. I did it!" I raise a brow. "I ran a sex trafficking ring. I wasn't supposed to take kids but I did. And I raped them!"
"You weren't supposed to?"
"Just test the supply. Past them off to the fucking vampires looking for blood in the ghytto but they don't want bodies of kids. So, I stole they kids."
"You stole kids from the Ghytto?" I cross my arms. That's a lot of work. From what it sounds like he stole, kidnapped, and tormented children from the realm and baited people into buying their kids back. "What the point?"
"Grooming! You see," he licks his lips. "Kids are actually beneficial especially when you have a seat with the coven. You wanna keep the seat."
"Make an heir... so... why not get an adult body!" I stress. "It's a sensitive business but that's my job."
"You a stupid fucking Mexican."
"I am not. Shit, any Mexican do anything for money. Eat pussy, fuck bitches, sell a bitch, kill ya mother and recycle again. Everything got a price. Nigga wanna be in America, ok. Cartel. Nigga want documents, foreged, cartel. It's about money."
"So, what you used to run the CArtel back in Mexico and now you serve some vampires?"
"I can't die. So, really, I ain't scared."
"I'll take it away."
"Bitch, you a soul walking!"
"Don't you know dead niggas come back to life?"
"This is not fucking Bones!"
"Correct, because I'll actually take you with me..." I scrunch up the wrisk and pull his face towards me. Pushing it through his left cheek and out the other side. I could seal it if I put some heat on it. I tie one end and then the other. "You know what... are you really a Vampire king?"
"Yeah!" he says muffled. "I'm really a king."
"Ok, next question." I look at Jose. "Who's Ciccaco...?"
He rolls his eyes. "I don't wanna talk about it."
"So..." I click my tongue. "Shit is out of wack because y'all is going through the realm distrubing shit y'all ain't supposed to. What did you do?"
He mumbles. "Excuse me?"
"Ciccaco's my fucking retarded son..." he pouts. "I sold his ass and made it back to me."
"Really?" Harsh. "He doesn't talk about you."
"Magic..." he says. "Cruel..." That's fucked up, he played with his mentally challenged kid. "What's so bad about having an ill kid?"
"I don't want a retarded baby. He had that stem cell shit, that was 7,000 dollars out my pocket."
"From who?" I question. "The DOCK! The department has it with treatment and if you're a registered vampire you get like a 35% discount but I have a record. So... 75% increase."
"Wow..."
"King Cottonmouth died years ago. I'm fucking 82..."
"Y'all raided vampire castles in the realm?"
"That's what Chauncey did! Nigga found his family legacy and then Darlene found out she could cross the other side and shit."
This shit goes way back...