It was partly overcast when Victor, Tommy and Mike pulled into the parking lot at the Anti-Crime Incorporated Correctional facility. They decided to skip school for this very important day in history. Although Tommy and Mike had never met the master they have heard of so many times, they felt excited for the time had finally arrived to meet him in person.
Norman James Hayward walked out of the correction facility Anti-Crime Incorporated. The name Anti-Crime was almost in direct contrast with what the facility stood for. Most people went in as criminals and came out with a near master's degree in crime. The Anti-Crime Incorporated Correctional facility was known to have one of the world's top ten most dangerous gangs in the world.
Norman heard the locks of the heavy metal doors slam shut behind him. He stood there looking up at the sky and breathed deeply, taking in the outside air he was deprived of for many years. Although he had made many new friends inside, it was a good feeling to be free again. He had made himself a name within the first six months whereupon his inmates labelled him as Numbers. Norman had been sentenced to the Anti-Crime Incorporated Correction facility two years ago for a murder he and his brother had committed. He was out on parole, but if they only knew what other crimes lay hidden behind his dark eyes, he would never have seen the outside of the correctional facility ever again.
Norman glanced back to the place that had been his home for two years one last time. He knew he was going to miss his brothers on the other side. He started walking to a car parked in the distance, a brown 1971 Dodge Challenger. He recognised his good friend Victor who was much younger than him. He did not know the other two guys, but surely they were part of the cult already. Norman knew he was a powerful man in jail, but out here, he was unstoppable. He had all the power in the world and he had two years to plan a great strategy. He would start small at first and then grow bigger until he had a force that could not be stopped by anyone. He had the tools and power of the beast to make it all a reality.
Victor noticed Norman approaching in the distance. He could tell that Norman had been quite busy in the gym he heard about the inside the correction facilities. Victor felt excited because he knew this moment was the beginning of the end for most people of the Western Cape, for those who opposed them, anyway. They were oblivious to what crazy evil existed in the world, the evil that was about to be unleashed. As Norman approached, Victor noticed additional tattoos on his neck, arms and face. He was sure that each tattoo had a unique meaning.
'Are you ready boys?' Victor grinned. 'This is the master of all.'
'A little scared but I've been waiting for this for a long time,' Tommy said rubbing his hands.
'Remember, this guy is not your average. He killed his own brother in jail to prove his loyalty to one of the gangs inside. He is one of the most dangerous guys around okay. So don't fuck around or say stupid things,' Victor said in a low tone.
Tommy realised that Norman was bigger and taller than he had expected. He must have been close to two meters in height. Tommy was shocked by the amount of black and red tattoos on his face, arms and neck which were in direct contrast with his white T-shirt. He could only imagine what the rest of his body looked like.
'Hello my brother,' Norman said with a grim face. His black eyes were looking into Victor's soul. Norman made a fist with his right hand which he held out towards Victor. Victor noticed one of the many tattoos that he had never seen before on Norman's hand. It was the face of a ram in the form of a pentagram. In the middle, it had been coloured in with red ink to emphasise the power of a pentagram.
'Good to see you Numbers,' Victor said and made a fist with his right hand as well. He bumped it against Norman's, first head-on, then from above and finally from below. Victor noticed more initials on Numbers' neck than he ever had before. He knew what they were. Each initial stood either for a person he had killed or another demon which possessed his body. The initials were without a doubt done in the correctional facilities' tattoo artist style. They were skew and different sizes with jagged edges, not the best of work. Amongst many were some initials: D.J, KKK, P.S, R.I.P, W.S and I.V.
'Who are these fuckers?' Numbers asked indicating with his head. He did not look directly at them.
'These are my friends Tommy and Mike. They are part of the brotherhood,' Victor said.
Numbers looked at Tommy and Mike. He noticed how hesitant they were to approach him. He saw the fear in their eyes.
Numbers merely nodded, 'you want to be part of this brotherhood you reckon.'
'Yes Numbers,' they responded almost simultaneously.
'You willing to pledge your life to the brotherhood?' Numbers asked as his dark eyes scanned Tommy and Mike independently.
'Yes, yes, Numbers,' Tommy and Mike confirmed.
'Then welcome to the brotherhood,' Numbers said and returned his gaze to Victor. 'Take me home.'
Victor nodded and opened the driver's side door. He noticed the way Numbers looked back at the correctional facility one last time. A place of rape, horror and fear. Victor got in the car and slammed the door. Tommy and Mike were already sitting quietly in the back seat. Both seemed tense. Victor knew that Numbers was not what they had expected. He smiled at Tommy and winked. Numbers finally opened the door and plumped down on the front seat with a squeaking sound coming from the old worn-out springs. Numbers slammed the door and looked out the cracked windscreen. Victor started the car and headed for the highway. Soon they were on the R27 and Victor accelerated. It was a long drive, and they had things to do. He noticed how Numbers looked at everything as if he had never seen them before.
'We got a surprise for you,' Victor said.
Numbers turned his head and looked at the smile on Victor's face.
'Boys, get us a cold one back there and pass us one of those joints,' Victor said.
Numbers nodded and for the first time the sides of his mouth turned up into a grin, 'that's more like it.'
Tommy handed Numbers a Black Label from the back seat and noticed the tattoo on his right cheek and forehead. There were so many different tattoos on Numbers' face and body that Tommy almost missed the one written in bold ink, HELL LIVES HERE was written on the one side of his forehead, almost scratched in a distasteful artistic style. On his right cheek was a low-quality tattoo of a woman's spread legs.
Numbers nodded when he accepted the beer.
Tommy had expected a mean machine of a man, but not the monster who was sitting in the front seat. He noticed Numbers' arms. They were well-shaped, but lean almost like there was not enough food in jail to feed him properly. Numbers had tattoos under his bicep and all around his upper and lower arm. At the back of his neck, an upside-down cross spread out the breadth of his neck and ran down below the collar line of his T-shirt. Tommy knew that he would never want to get on Numbers' bad side, especially not after what Victor had told him. Numbers was charged with murder on one account. His brother was also involved in the murder. Numbers had pinned most of it on his older brother and the sentence was reduced. This caused chaos between the two brothers and it was inevitable that one of them would die. Numbers was the one who had learned the craft of black magic from a younger age. He used this to spread fear throughout the correctional facility and soon after that he made himself a respectable and fearful name amongst the criminals. He went a step further to prove what he was made of. He had killed his brother with a long sharp pen-like weapon that he had crafted over time. His brother had several stab wounds through the neck and chest area. The wound that caused his brother's death was the stab through his heart even though the first stab which went through his aorta would also have killed him. Apparently, while he was holding his brother from behind, he had stabbed him with a grin on his face. After the death of his brother, the pick had been passed seamlessly from inmate to inmate and soon it had disappeared. Nothing could be traced back to Numbers, and he was released after his two-year sentence. In the brotherhood, everything was kept confidential and secret. There were many other victims that could not be linked back to Numbers. One of them was a girl who had been hacked up once he had finished raping her during a satanic ceremony. The body parts had been dropped in the ocean where the smaller animals would feed on all the evidence until there was nothing left. Most of the bodies had been disposed of that way.
'Give me a full report of what happened while I was doing time,' Number said. He took a few big gulps of the beer. When he finished, there was only a quarter left of it. He looked at Victor expectantly.
'We expanded the brotherhood. We have some of the police in our pockets and the drug network is growing,' Victor said with a sense of pride.
'Good,' Numbers nodded.
Mike handed Numbers a neatly rolled joint almost double the size of a normal cigarette. Numbers inspected it carefully then smelled it deeply, 'This is good shit.'
'We have the best of everything in town. Crystal meth is the biggest seller at the moment, with good profit and we have the youngsters wrapped around our fingers. You must see some of those bitches that we got hooked on our shit. Some of them would do anything for a hit. They fuck like rabbits. We mostly make use of those opportunities to get them to do things for us and accept Satan,' Victor said.
Numbers blew out a current of smoke towards the windscreen, 'that's a good plan.'
Soon the smell of marijuana filled the inside of the car. Numbers warmed up the joint by puffing on it several times until the tip was glowing red. He inhaled deeply and passed it over to Victor who was holding the steering wheel with one hand.
'I haven't had a bitch in over two years. It's time we set up a gathering. I want at least a dozen of those little sluts around during that night. I don't care who they are or where you get them from, but I want to hurt them pretty bad. We need a few sacrifices as well. We want to gain momentum. I've waited for too long. I've had two years to think of all the plans in the best of detail and it's time to roll them out. I will make them public during our gathering.' Numbers shifted lower in his seat to make himself more comfortable.
'We'll arrange it, maybe even this weekend,' Victor said.
'Tell me, what happened to our old house?' Numbers asked rolling his head on the car seat to face Victor. 'Surely no one wants to live there, not after what happened right?'
Mike passed the join on to Numbers again after he had a deep drag of it.
'Not sure. I think it must still be empty. We can drive past it if you want,' Victor said.
'I'd like that,' Numbers said blowing out another ball of smoke towards the windshield.