The Beast of New Orleans

“You got the .9 with you, right?” Asked J Mac. “Man, hell yea. We finna blast these fools”, said Dru. The two most ruthless killers in the One Gang, which is based in New Orleans, were preparing themselves for yet another shootout in as many as 2 months. They wanted their competitors knocked off, so as to be the top fentanyl dealers in the Big Easy. Unbeknownst to the sharpshooters, there was about to be a couple gruesome murders on a hot summer night in New Orleans, none, of which, involved their opponents. “Slick said they’d be here, mane where these fools at? I’m bout ready to smoke sum.” Said a very impatient Dru, his finger drifting over the safety. “Ion know, but we finna be ready when they get out. I’m too ready to blow em’ off the map, gon wish they never-Ayo, you hear that?” J Mac’s thoughts were interrupted by what sounded like growling noises. They sounded like a dog, but something was off about it. “Nah, I don’t hear nothin’. Turn the volume down real quick.” It took Dru a minute to catch on, but then he heard it: A low growling noise. But it sounded wrong. He owned five big dogs, so he knew how deep and boisterous a dogs’ shrieks could be. However, this particular growl rubbed his ear drums the wrong way. The noise sounded more…distorted, in a sense. “Yo, what the fuck is that?” Asked Dru. “Sound like a dog, fam.” “Nah, that ain’t no dog, woe. I got five of em, this somethin’ else.” In that very instant, both men started to feel a sensation they haven’t felt since they joined One Gang: Fear. The atmosphere had become heavier. “Yo, you smell that shit?” Asked J Mac, trying to hide the fear that crept up his throat, like a parasite. “Yea, that shit smell like dead bodies and shit.” Dru pointed out. At that very moment, something hit the rooftop of the black Camaro. “Shit! We under attack Mac, bran ya gat!” Said Dru, in full panic mode. In a blink of an eye, their seatbelts moved on their own and secured both men into their seats. “I can’t move, what the fuck is going on?” Asked J Mac. Before Dru could answer, the figure that was on top of the roof swiftly lifted off and did an extraordinary back flip and landed twenty feet from the car. “Wassam wit it?” The figure said, with an ominous edge. “Who the fuck are you?” Asked Dru. “Oh, I see y’all don’t recognize my voice huh? Lemme step into the light real quick.” The mysterious man quickly dashes into the nearest street light. He reveals himself to be a well built, brown skinned man with a short haircut and earrings. He garners a scar on his left cheek, with an all black attire. “Ain’t no damn way it’s you!” Said Dru, shocked at the revelation before him. “They said you died,can’t be him!” “Who the hell is that?” Asked J Mac, a mixture of fear and confusion concocting within his voice. “Man, that’s Double M, the youngest sharp shooter from the Melph!” “What? Mane, ho-how the fuck is that even possible? He been missing for a whole year!” Said J Mac. The man identified to be Double M took a couple more steps towards their car and said, “thanks for the intro, La brudda. And yea, I been out in da lab for a year.” “Lab? What lab you talkin’ bout’?” Asked Dru. Double M shrugged. “Ion know, some lil racist white man had kidnapped me and did some weird shit to my body… pause”, adding that last word with a humored chuckle. “Wanna see what he did?” Before either man could answer, Double M’s body started shifting. His bones cracked as the muscles within him warped and extended, black fur growing from one side, while the other portrayed a horrible scene. The skin on the right side of his torso tore through to expose his rib cage and part of his chest, while the other side continued to grow thicker, more shiny black fur. His hands began to grow larger, with one hand seeming to form into that of a large paw, while the other resembled a gigantic, bone exposed claw. His feet followed suit, but the most shocking transformation was his face. One half seemed to resemble a wolf from a horror movie, the other side looked like a large deer skull, with a single antler protruding from the side. One eye shined a luminescent orange with a cat-like pupil, while the other was a solid, milky white. And the foul stench that came off of the new creature wafted through the air. Both men, now completed gripped in fear, could do nothing more but to grace this Sci-fi abomination. “Th-th-the ff-fuck are you?” Stammered Dru. In a now deeper, hollowed voice, Double M responded, “I think that crazy old guy said it was some typa mix from a werewolf and a Wendigo. Personally, Ion know nothin’ bout’ a Wendigo, but I do know it got powers, like for instance”, his Wendigo claw shot up, and in the a split second, two mounds of earth beneath the car extended into sharp spikes and pierced both men from the upper back, into their chests. Both men perished instantly. Double M stomped over to the car and tore the door off of the hinges to receive his prize from the fresh corpses. “This shit is incredible, wish I coulda thanked that old muthafucka before I tore his heart out, oh well.” He managed to retract the sharp layers of earth and ripped each man’s chest open, grabbing both still-beating hearts at the same time. As he ripped both organs to pieces, he thought about how he was going to use his new form to kill his opposition and rule over the streets over New Orleans. “They gon call me the best Were-Wendigo in the South.. wait, Ion know where that came from, but I like that name”, he said to no one in particular, as he transformed back into his human form.