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The Executioner

The instant I got the call, I was in. The strained voice of my best friend coming through the speaker of my phone had me out of my chair without another thought. His baby sister, MY fucking little sister birthed by a different family, was in trouble. And by trouble I mean she was fucking gone. Tucking my pistol in the waist of my jeans, I grabbed my pack of smokes off the dining room table and stomped out the door. It only took me three minutes to race my pick-up down the dirt road separating my fields from my best friends. He was waiting for me on the porch when I slammed my foot on the brake, bringing my truck to an abrupt stop. His jaw was clenched, anger radiating off him in palpable waves as he climbed into the passengers seat and slammed the door. My eyes narrowed, waiting patiently for him to give me somewhere to go. The minute he told me we could find his sister in a piece of shit shack on the opposite side of the town docks, I took off in that direction. No other words needed to be spoken between us. We needed to get back what belonged to us, by any means fucking necessary. Celia was as sweet as they come. I’d met her in the parking lot of my school back when we were kids, when of course I tried to fuck her. When her scrawny ass brother gave me a mouthful of shit to my fucking face, I lost interest in crawling into her pants. And gained a hell of a lot of respect for him. Since that day, me and that wiry mother fucker had been inseparable, with Celia always trailing not too far behind. She was sweet, had the kindest heart I’d come across in my life but she was ignorant as fuck when it came to the opposite sex. We’d bailed her out of far too many shitty situations but this current predicament was going to take the fucking cake. The gate surrounding the broken down house barely visible through the trees was closed with a chain locked tightly in place. Instead of slowing down, I pressed the gas pedal to the floor, plowing right through what was meant to keep intruders away. My hands white knuckled the steering wheel as the truck barreled down the road until skidding to a stop a few hundred feet from the house. I’d have plowed my truck through the front fucking door if Celia hadn’t been inside.   I wasn’t sure if the mother fucker holding her captive knew we were coming but he’d figure it the fuck out real soon. No one stole from me, from us, without paying the price. Climbing out of the truck, I put a cigarette to my lips and sparked a flame, taking a long drag as my eyes narrowed on the house. The windows were covered and the driveway was empty but that didn’t reveal shit about who could be inside. I reached into the bed of the pick-up, grabbing my pride and joy Louisville slugger then followed my best friend into the woods. From my spot at the back of the house I could see movement inside. Every room was dark but a single shadow moved back and forth past the door. Pacing. Waiting. Because he knew we would fucking come. I stepped toward the back door, waiting for the signal to rush inside. Blood pounded wildly in my ears as I sucked down my smoke, my fingers tapping impatiently against my bat. I wanted in that house so badly I could fucking taste it, so I could show this mother fucker no one messes with my family or what’s mine. In this washed up county, no one fucks with me. I am the mother fucking King. A familiar whistle came from the front of the house just as I stomped the butt of my smoke into the dirt. With the heel of my boot, I kicked in the back door without a moments hesitation, holding my pistol high in one hand. Wide eyes met mine as his head lifted from the table, white power caked all around his nose. My lips lifted into a sneer as he swiped the cocaine from his face and stumbled backwards out of his chair. I didn’t know this guy, which meant the product he was currently snorting up his nose wasn’t mine. He was a stranger, bringing drugs into my town that didn’t belong here. That only made my temper flare more. I trained my pistol on him as he held his hands high, his pupils dilating until his eyes were black. I’m not sure if it was the drugs or the fear that did it but either way, I didn’t care. I stepped toward him, pinning him into a corner while my best friend shouted for me from the opposite side of the wall. I side stepped into the archway between rooms so I could keep this high piece of shit in my sight. What I saw when I glanced into the living room made the blood drain from my face. Celia, tied to a fucking chair without a shred of clothing to cover her pale body, was covered in more blood and bruises than I’d ever seen. My stomach dropped and I snapped my mouth shut, resisting the urge to vomit right then and there. She burst into tears the moment her eyes met mine but behind that sadness was a blooming rage I recognized right away. Her swollen eyes narrowed as she bared her teeth to me, jutting her chin in my direction. “Kill him,” she said, knowing far too well I’d have no fucking problem doing just that. That’s the thing about being King. I took care of things myself because only a pussy made others do their business for them. Here, I was the ruler and the enforcer. I was the mother fucking law. Tucking my gun back into the waist of my pants, I toyed with the baseball bat in my hand. Stepping slowly back into the kitchen, I trained my sight on the scared piece of shit hovering in the corner like a pussy. Typical. All talk and no game, except when it came to people weaker than him. I fucking despised those who took advantage of people with good hearts and I was about to show him just how much. I flipped the wooden slugger in my hand, gripping the handle then the body and back again. The piece of garbage cowered and fucking whimpered as I stepped closer. I didn’t feel an ounce of pity for him. You can’t hurt those closest to me and expect me to feel any fucking remorse. The only emotion ignited in my veins was rage. I let it consume every inch of my body so he could see. Swinging the bat high above my head, I swung down swiftly, savoring the sound of shattering bones beneath flesh. A shrill scream ripped through the house as blood gushed from the side of his face. My heart raced with a potent combination of thrill and anger. Seeing the deep red mix with white powder only spurred me on. I delivered crushing swing after swing until my hands, my face, my chest were coated with his blood. His face was no longer distinguishable, his heart not longer beating and that was more than fucking fine. The punishment for his crime had been delivered. No one fucks with what’s mine.

[handgunsandtattoos-blog]

The Executioner

The instant I got the call, I was in. The strained voice of my best friend coming through the speaker of my phone had me out of my chair without another thought. His baby sister, MY fucking little sister birthed by a different family, was in trouble. And by trouble I mean she was fucking gone. Tucking my pistol in the waist of my jeans, I grabbed my pack of smokes off the dining room table and stomped out the door. It only took me three minutes to race my pick-up down the dirt road separating my fields from my best friends. He was waiting for me on the porch when I slammed my foot on the brake, bringing my truck to an abrupt stop. His jaw was clenched, anger radiating off him in palpable waves as he climbed into the passengers seat and slammed the door. My eyes narrowed, waiting patiently for him to give me somewhere to go. The minute he told me we could find his sister in a piece of shit shack on the opposite side of the town docks, I took off in that direction. No other words needed to be spoken between us. We needed to get back what belonged to us, by any means fucking necessary. Celia was as sweet as they come. I’d met her in the parking lot of my school back when we were kids, when of course I tried to fuck her. When her scrawny ass brother gave me a mouthful of shit to my fucking face, I lost interest in crawling into her pants. And gained a hell of a lot of respect for him. Since that day, me and that wiry mother fucker had been inseparable, with Celia always trailing not too far behind. She was sweet, had the kindest heart I’d come across in my life but she was ignorant as fuck when it came to the opposite sex. We’d bailed her out of far too many shitty situations but this current predicament was going to take the fucking cake. The gate surrounding the broken down house barely visible through the trees was closed with a chain locked tightly in place. Instead of slowing down, I pressed the gas pedal to the floor, plowing right through what was meant to keep intruders away. My hands white knuckled the steering wheel as the truck barreled down the road until skidding to a stop a few hundred feet from the house. I’d have plowed my truck through the front fucking door if Celia hadn’t been inside.   I wasn’t sure if the mother fucker holding her captive knew we were coming but he’d figure it the fuck out real soon. No one stole from me, from us, without paying the price. Climbing out of the truck, I put a cigarette to my lips and sparked a flame, taking a long drag as my eyes narrowed on the house. The windows were covered and the driveway was empty but that didn’t reveal shit about who could be inside. I reached into the bed of the pick-up, grabbing my pride and joy Louisville slugger then followed my best friend into the woods. From my spot at the back of the house I could see movement inside. Every room was dark but a single shadow moved back and forth past the door. Pacing. Waiting. Because he knew we would fucking come. I stepped toward the back door, waiting for the signal to rush inside. Blood pounded wildly in my ears as I sucked down my smoke, my fingers tapping impatiently against my bat. I wanted in that house so badly I could fucking taste it, so I could show this mother fucker no one messes with my family or what’s mine. In this washed up county, no one fucks with me. I am the mother fucking King. A familiar whistle came from the front of the house just as I stomped the butt of my smoke into the dirt. With the heel of my boot, I kicked in the back door without a moments hesitation, holding my pistol high in one hand. Wide eyes met mine as his head lifted from the table, white power caked all around his nose. My lips lifted into a sneer as he swiped the cocaine from his face and stumbled backwards out of his chair. I didn’t know this guy, which meant the product he was currently snorting up his nose wasn’t mine. He was a stranger, bringing drugs into my town that didn’t belong here. That only made my temper flare more. I trained my pistol on him as he held his hands high, his pupils dilating until his eyes were black. I’m not sure if it was the drugs or the fear that did it but either way, I didn’t care. I stepped toward him, pinning him into a corner while my best friend shouted for me from the opposite side of the wall. I side stepped into the archway between rooms so I could keep this high piece of shit in my sight. What I saw when I glanced into the living room made the blood drain from my face. Celia, tied to a fucking chair without a shred of clothing to cover her pale body, was covered in more blood and bruises than I’d ever seen. My stomach dropped and I snapped my mouth shut, resisting the urge to vomit right then and there. She burst into tears the moment her eyes met mine but behind that sadness was a blooming rage I recognized right away. Her swollen eyes narrowed as she bared her teeth to me, jutting her chin in my direction. “Kill him,” she said, knowing far too well I’d have no fucking problem doing just that. That’s the thing about being King. I took care of things myself because only a pussy made others do their business for them. Here, I was the ruler and the enforcer. I was the mother fucking law. Tucking my gun back into the waist of my pants, I toyed with the baseball bat in my hand. Stepping slowly back into the kitchen, I trained my sight on the scared piece of shit hovering in the corner like a pussy. Typical. All talk and no game, except when it came to people weaker than him. I fucking despised those who took advantage of people with good hearts and I was about to show him just how much. I flipped the wooden slugger in my hand, gripping the handle then the body and back again. The piece of garbage cowered and fucking whimpered as I stepped closer. I didn’t feel an ounce of pity for him. You can’t hurt those closest to me and expect me to feel any fucking remorse. The only emotion ignited in my veins was rage. I let it consume every inch of my body so he could see. Swinging the bat high above my head, I swung down swiftly, savoring the sound of shattering bones beneath flesh. A shrill scream ripped through the house as blood gushed from the side of his face. My heart raced with a potent combination of thrill and anger. Seeing the deep red mix with white powder only spurred me on. I delivered crushing swing after swing until my hands, my face, my chest were coated with his blood. His face was no longer distinguishable, his heart not longer beating and that was more than fucking fine. The punishment for his crime had been delivered. No one fucks with what’s mine.

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I had gone from having not a care in the world to feeling like I had the weight of it on my shoulders in one day. The conversation I’d had with my supplier had brought what seemed like a grey, ominous cloud to hang over my head. I never worried about the people above me in the line of command that allowed me to do my business without much of a headache but the recent news delivered to me about their deaths brought a whole lot of stress into my otherwise calm world.

I was spending the morning cleaning my guns, making sure that the ones I kept hidden in places only I knew about were clean and ready for use if need be. I knew trouble wouldn’t come looking for me right away but with things being so unclear at the moment it would only be so long before shit came to my door.

My first worry was how I was going to be getting my next delivery. I always had recieved a month's worth of stash to get my customers through but if there was no one at the head of the organization to ensure the delivery of next month's parcel I would be up to my asshole in addicts without a fix. I knew what it was like to be without the only thing in life that made you feel better, and I could recall quickly the days I’d gone without my drugs in my system to keep me numb. When I was the customer and not the dealer I had done a lot of things I normally wouldn’t have to get the drugs I needed to carry me through. I could name off the top of my head at least ten of my customers now that I knew would do the same if I couldn’t supply their stash.

I paced my house and returned each gun to its various hidden spot then headed out the door with two shotguns in my hand. Wincing against the blinding sun as I stepped out onto my farmer's porch, I made my way to the bundle of trees that took up the corner of my lot. Lifting my hand to slide one shotgun into the side a tree that held a secret spot for the gun to rest, I turned on my heels and wandered to another tree on the opposite side of my property, returning that gun to where it belonged. I kept these things out here because you could never be sure what was going to happen or who was going to show up at the house. If I was ever in need of a quick get away I knew these trees would be here holding the protection I would need.

I took several steps back so that I could look up at the tree from a distance to make sure that my shotgun wasn’t visible from the naked eye, turning quickly on my heels when I heard a crunch under my feet. My brows furrowed as I looked down at whatever I had stepped on, my eyes widening when I saw a sheen of ice cast over the grass beneath me. It was almost like a frost had coated the land but it was only on my right side, spreading out over the neighbor's field and through the trees. I stared for a few moments, bewildered by what I saw. It made no sense for frost to only partially cover a wide area yet that was exactly what I was looking at. There was no explanation other that I could come up with so I shrugged a shoulder before turning and heading back to my house.

I slid my tired ass into one of the rocking chairs that scattered my porch and kicked my feet out in front of me. I rubbed my hand over my face and yawned loudly, cursing my mind for keeping me up practically through the night. Things were changing and they were changing fast which was never good. I needed time to process, time to weigh the pros and cons, time to make the decision of my next move. Taking over the top rung of the drug organization I’d become familiar with over the years was a huge deal and it was one I didn’t take lightly. I was up against Mexicans, blacks, crazy white supremacists and a motorcycle gang full of old but smarts bastards. I preferred to remain under the radar, going about my business with minimal bullshit directed at me. Attempting to take this position and then equally if I aquired it would open the floodgates for crap I didn’t have the patience to deal with. I did, however, have enough people by my side that I could count on and lean on if this were to take off. The money would pour in and the control would be much more than I’d ever had before. There was good and there was bad and I was determined to sit my ass in this chair and until I decided which way to go.

[handgunsandtattoos-blog]

-I sat hunched over in my chair with my eyes narrowed as I brought the tip of my tattoo gun down to press against pale, unmarked flesh. My fingers dug into the muscle of my buddies thigh as my other slowly worked the needles of the gun along his skin. We had been working on this piece for months now and it was finally nearing completion, along with the business that the man under my tattoo gun and I had together. Each month when he returned for an addition to the tattoo that would eventually cover the spans of his right leg he would bring me the delivery of drugs that would get my addict customers through the month. He would also share any information he found pertinent to my business or my attempts to expand. Tonights information was some of the most interesting he’d shared so far.

The big wig organization that my friend here dealt with much more often than I did had mysteriously been eradicated. All of them, in a single attack by someone who was yet known. Although I ran this small town I lived in and some places just outside of it there was a group that I unofficially belonged to; that I had come to an arrangement with in order to keep the drug supplies coming steady. They were gone; all of them.

I stopped the tattoo gun from making a mark on his skin and lifted my head just as my phone rang. I ignored the call because I knew who it was and their fucking bullshit would have to wait. It was the same each month; all my clients knew when the shipment arrived. About a thousand unspoken words passed between us as we sat in silence, waiting for the irritating tone of my ringing phone to stop. I knew he and I were thinking the exact same thing considering the conversations we had every month but I wasn’t sure I was ready for any of that to come to fruition. I didn’t even know if I was ready to speak the words. I liked the security of my town, where everyone knew my name and knew that fucking with me was probably not the smartest thing to do. Expanding outward was of interest but not all at one time and certainly not now. It seemed that the opportunity had presented itself however, and we both knew it was going to be hard to avoid.

“It will be bloody,” I said finally as I leaned back in my chair, setting my tattoo gun to the side.

His only response was a single nod as he reached into his pocket for a smoke. He knew more than me how many other people would be interested in this new change in the order and it wasn’t like him to sugar coat things. I didn’t want him to pussy foot around shit and thankfully he wasn’t much of a pussy anything.

“There’s at least three others I can think of that I know will want to take their shot at this bullshit but I can’t see any of them overcoming you, King. They don’t have the smarts or the balls for it.”

It was my turn to nod, keeping my eyes on his as I thought silently of all the sour shit that could happen. As much as I didn’t mind throwing my weight around every once in a while to keep people in line I wasn’t a killer. Or at least I wasn’t yet. If I decided to take part in this challenge of sorts I knew that would change quickly.

“Any idea who decided they were going to take out an entire organization? Or why?”

He shook his head just as he shrugged a shoulder, taking a slow drag off his cigarette before blowing out a long line of smoke. I frowned, pursing my lips together as I tried to wrack my brain of who it could have possibly been. Things go bad all the time in this business but it takes a very capable and well knowledgeable person to get away with taking out a whole group.

“It was quite the scene, King. Unlike anything I’ve seen before. After they killed them they somehow managed to turn the building into a fucking igloo. And get this, whoever did that shit removed their hearts.”

Both my brows raised in surprise as he spoke, staring at him in amusement as a smirk lifted on my lips. I’d both seen and done some crazy as shit in my life but removing organs from the people I’d killed wasn’t exactly my kind of thing, or anyones, unless you were a serial killer or some shit.

“Isn’t that fucking special,” I muttered under my breath as I swiped my hand over my jaw. “Clearly they were trying to make some sort of point because otherwise that’s too over the top.”

I grabbed the tattoo gun and leaned back over him so that I could finish my job and think. He has just given me a shit ton of information and admittedly it was somewhat unsettling. It was possible that whoever did this was on a mission to annihilate the entire chain of suppliers, possibly so they could take over themselves. If so, I wasn’t too far down on that list and people had to know I would try to make a move. I wasn’t sure I wanted to deal with attempting to take over the top of the criminal food chain while there was an unknown psychopath on the loose taking them all out. That would be doubling the amount of bullshit on my plate and I wasn’t a fan of complications. I couldn’t turn my back on the potential though, even if the risk of me and the people who worked for me’s safety would be put in jeopardy. We had to handle it, and like my friend here under my hand said, I had the smarts and the balls to play the game the right way, and against anything that chose to put itself in my path.

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I Am King

-I waited patiently on the far side of a large piece of farmland, resting back against the bench seat of my truck until the sun went down. A lit cigarette dangled from my lips as I kept my eyes locked on the house just within my sight. It sat quiet with no movement around it except for the chickens that chased each other across the lawn.

Eventually the sun lingered just above the tree line before it sunk down behind it, taking the light and it’s safety with it. When the darkness came so did the chaos. When the light of day disappeared so did the calm.

I pushed the door open to my pick up and stood up out of it, turning to the bed and flipping the tarp up at the corner. I lifted my shotgun up and rested the barrel of it against my shoulder, making sure my .45 was secured against my lower back before turning on my heels and heading towards the house.

I walked along the perimeter of the farm, keeping my eyes open and focused on any unexpected circumstances that would interrupt my visit. Thankfully all was quiet on this home front so I made my way closer and closer.

As the last of the daylight faded I stepped onto the farmer's porch that lined the front of the house, stopping once I reached the front door. Without knocking I pushed it open and stepped inside, not giving a fuck that my presence wasn’t announced. I could hear the television blaring in the next room so I followed the sound, knowing exactly what I would find behind this wall.

Slowly I rounded the corner, my eyes first falling on two kids sitting on the floor. Then I saw him, sitting next to his girlfriend on a tattered couch against the far wall. His eyes were sunken in and he’s lost weight since the last time I’d seen him. Obviously his addiction was getting the better of him. Once he spotted me his hand fell to the woman's thigh and he tensed, sitting up straighter as his empty eyes locked on mine.

“King,” he started as he began to stand. I raised my free hand to silence him then turned fully into the room so he could see the shotgun that I gripped in my palm. The startled gasp of the woman amused me and I didn’t hide the beginnings of a sly grin as it lifted onto my lips.

“You’re going to want to take those kids and go.”

Without hesitation she stood up from the couch and grabbed her two children by their arms, dragging them away from the television and out the front door as their cries of protest bounced off the walls around us. I waited until I heard the start of her car then dirt kicking up into the wheel wells before I moved further into the room, focusing on the skeleton of a man still sitting on the couch.

“You owe me a lot of money and I’ve let it go on too long. People are beginning to question me and I can’t have that. I’m sure you understand.”

As I stepped closer he pushed himself back against the couch, practically falling over the back side of it in a panicked attempt to escape me. He wouldn’t be able to though because even if he got lucky and managed to escape this house there was no hiding from me. I’d hunted down men to the far edges of this town and beyond. Surely I could do it again.

“King, I have the money. Half of it. I just need a little time to get the rest but I will!”

Slowly I twisted my head from side to side as I lifted my hands to press a finger against my lips in a silent bid for him to shut the fuck up. I did not want to hear his excuses and I hated it when grown men begged so the last thing I wanted to do was allow him to go on.

I’d been at the center of the drug game in this town since I was a teenager. I had used threats, punishment and brute force to keep my status as kingpin for as long as I could remember. I run with a different kind of people and we abide by a different type of rule. I break the law because I can. There isn’t an ounce of remorse that flows through my body when I do because this world had gone to shit and everyone in it is in it for themselves. In my world, there is no rules except the ones I’ve made for myself and the people of this town that chose to work with me. I am King. I am the law. It was time for this poor mother fucker to get his punishment.

I pulled ��my .45 out from behind my back as shrill whine echoed the room around me. I rolled my eyes, disappointed at this supposed tough guys response to intimidation. They always acted so tough but when it came time for a little payback aimed their way they crumbled like little bitches. It annoyed me to no end.

Without another moment's hesitation I aimed the gun held tightly in my hand at the man frozen in place in front of me. His eyes bugged out of their sockets in the quick realization that he was about to die. I often wondered what went through the minds of my victims right before they were introduced to the bullet end of my gun. Did they pray to a God that didn’t exist? Did they wish they had not gone against me in some way? Did they think of their mothers or their children or the pieces of ass they kept on the side?

I pulled the trigger without another moment's hesitation and watched as his head caved in and his brain matter sprayed the wall behind him. There were no whines or gasps of fear now and I reveled in the complete silence. There was no shock or panic that ran through my veins as I looked down at the dead body slumped on the couch. I had done this enough times and gotten away with it that taking someone's life when it was justified became a part of me. I hadn’t felt remorse in a very long time.

Blood and brains dripped down the wall as I secured my gun to my back then moved from the living room to the dining room behind it. I pulled open the front plate of a grandfather clock and removed the moon dial that rested at the very top of the piece. Immediately I saw what I knew would be there. I  lifted my hand to pull out the four stacks of banded hundreds that had been hidden in the clock and shook my head. Forty thousand dollars, over twice what the mother fucker owed me, had been hidden in here. Why he wanted to hide this from me I would never understand.

I took three bands of hundreds and stuffed them in my pockets, leaving one remaining in the clock because this dumb ass had a family that didn’t deserve to be robbed completely. Turning on my heels then moving quickly out of the room, I grabbed my shotgun in my hand and hightailed it out of the house just a car pulled up in the driveway. I nodded once to the cop as he climbed out from behind the wheel, pulling one band of hundreds from my pocket and tossing it his way. We exchanged no words as I stomped by and made my way back to my truck. The most important thing I’d learned in my rise in this town was that everyone could be bought. There was always a price that could be paid for people’s silence and if you met it you could do just about anything. I had no problem paying that price today to solidify my status and remind those below me that I was not to be fucked with because I am King and I am the utmost law.

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I fear naught, but the fury raging inside of me, as I walk upon the ashes of wrath, I know, I am my only enemy.

M.A. Tempels © 2015 (via definegodliness)

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Our backs tell stories no books have the spines to carry.

Rupi Kaur. (via sublimequotesilove)

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The only person I owe shit to is myself.

(via 6killshit)