Ten bikes come flying down the street, guns popping off shots at us as they grow closer.
“What fucking club is this?”I scream at Cypher.
He’s abandoned his laptop to fight with the man coming at him with a knife.Cypher is good with his hands, so it doesn’t take long before he has the guy’s weapon and is burying it into their neck multiple times.
Then he’s back at his laptop, trusting his brothers to protect him while he does his thing.
I walk through the fucking horde of rival bikers, picking them off with my gun as they ride to us.Bodies jerk as my bullets find them, their bodies falling to the ground.Metal grinds against the pavement as the empty bikes slide across it before coming to a stop.
“Behind you, Prez,” one of my brothers roars.
A sharp sting at my right side yanks a hiss from me as I spin to face my enemy.My gun slips from my hand as I block his hits.I twist in the other direction as the motherfucker in a suit aims his knife toward me again.My hands are quick as I yank my precious from her holder.
The sharp blade of my axe slices cleanly into his neck.His blood gushes out, small spurts of it landing against my face.
“Nighty, night,” I sing, yanking it from him.
There’s a squelching sound as it glides from his body, and I shudder from the pleasure of the kill.
I run a quick eye around the grounds.Satisfied that my brothers are handling their own right now, I grab the motherfucker I just killed by the hair and lift his head.The demon tattoo on his neck has me gritting my teeth.
The Villarrubia Cartel.
What the fuck are they doing here?We’ve never had any interactions with them, preferring to do our business with the Zaragoza Cartel or De Toro brothers.The Villarrubia’s fuck with shit we’re not down with.
Then it hits me.
Fucking Frankie.
The Villarrubia Cartel’s specialty is humans.Any color, any age, and any fucking gender.They give zero fucks whose life they steal as long as it gives them what they want.
Power and money.
There are a lot of sick motherfuckers out there willing to pay a hefty sum to appease their vile proclivities.
These are the goddamn men who Frankie was going to sell my daughter to.
Before I realize what I’m doing, my axe connects repeatedly with parts of his body until I’m sitting surrounded by his severed head, hands, and ugly ass dick.That appendage gets shoved into his mouth before I cut his eyes out.
There.Now, he can’t see, taste, or touch what’s mine.
When I’m finished, I use his blood to draw a cross in the middle of his forehead before standing.
The reaper under my skin demands more, so I twirl my axe through the air as I shove my way through the horde.I aim for all the men with demons on their skin.
My precious sings through the air as I dance around my enemies.I slice, hack, and dice my way through them as I sing.My voice picks up as I spin around the men in twirls any ballerina would be proud of.
Look at me.Just a bloody, pretty ballerina cleaving my enemies to pieces.
“Daddy shark, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo-doo,” I sing as I pierce the skull of a Villarrubia piece of shit.
Using the bottom of my boot, I shove his body off my girl.She’s got blood and guts covering her, and I grimace, squatting down to use the dead guy’s clothes to wipe her off.“I’m sorry, my precious.Let me clean you off quick.”
There are no more cartel members left standing, so I turn my attention to the fucking bikers who thought it’d be smart to attack us.Especially in such low numbers.
Dumbasses.
“Let’s go hunt, doo-doo, doo-doo, doo” I serenade, as my eyes lock onto one man in leather.
