Queenpin

"Shut up, Lee," Tyrone snapped, his eyes watching the screens in front of him. On the screen were are a group of women stripped down to their underwear. On the table lay a white substance that was being bagged, ready for transport and distribution, "you weren't complaining a few months ago when I got you that dope yard."

"Yeah, well I didn't know where your bitch ass was getting the extra money from, nigga!" Lee snapped at his friend. Tyrone and Lee had gone into the cocaine production business together. Businesses would bring their coca plants for extraction or cocaine powder for distribution. The boys would sell what was made then return a percentage of the profit to the business. It worked a charm until Tyrone's greed got the better of them.

"Ty, if these people find out about what we've done. The stories I've heard, these bitches stone cold."

"They are not going to find out, from what I've heard, it's a gang of bitches anyway, we can take 'em," Tyrone bragged.

"I be hearing shit, man, people going missing, limbs in the post, that shit is spooky. I heard they be hijacking computers and all sort," Leroy recounted.

"Those just stories to keep scared ass niggas like you in line, they ain't gonna find out," Tyrone assured. Leroy decided not to push the conversation anymore. He'd had already taken his cut making him as culpable as Tyrone and there was only so much you could say to a friend before you became their enemy. He sighed and returned to the screens watched the assembly line.

Suddenly, the lights cut out. Gunshots and cries rang through the office causing the two boys to jump to the floor. Cries, wails, and tables being overturned could be heard by the two men as the cowered. Tyrone used the torch on his smartphone to find Leroy. He grabbed two semi-automatic pistols and threw one to his friend. Leroy's heart hammered as Tyrone turned the handle. He threw the door open, the torch shining into the dark corridor. The two men began to tip toe down the corridor, following the little path the light had to offer. Leroy felt his clothes sticking to him due to the sweat. They approached the door to the production. A thumping pain exploded in the back of the Leroy's head as he collapsed on the floor, his vision going black.

Tyrone was jolted awake as a bucket of ice water was thrown on top of him. His hands were tightly bound above his head. To his left he saw Leroy, screaming and struggling against his rope binds. To his right he saw all his men dead. The blood lake growing with each passing second. He felt himself almost vomit at the site of one of his men decapitated. He looked ahead and saw the coke workers were huddled in a corner crying.

A small figure wearing a clown mask stood in front of him. Tyrone screamed in fear. She turned to the women in the corner, "you have 15 minutes, take as much money as you want then leave!" The pack of woman squealed as they grabbed as much cash as they could, stuffing it into their bags and jacket pockets before stampeding out the room. The figure looked back at the men.

"Leroy, " she called sweetly, the sound was so sickly, Leroy, force down the bile that threatened to rise up in response, "I'm going to give you a chance to tell me how your friend has been stealing from us. You tell me, and you're free to go."

A woman wearing a demon mask approached Leroy. The stench of ammonia filled the room as a puddle formed around Leroy's body.

"Disgusting," the woman with the demon mask commented before ripping off the duct tape.

"I'll tell you everything," Leroy cried. Tyrone shouted in protest, hurt evident in his muffled cries. The demon mask punched Leroy in the face.

"Stop crying. Speak." Leroy detailed every line of the plan that allowed Tyrone to get away with stealing from the people. When he was done, he stared at the ground, avoiding eye contact with Tyrone. He knew what he had done but he could live with himself as long as he got to live.

"Thank you, Lee," the clown mask said tauntingly, "you'll be rewarded in your honesty." Suddenly, a portable furnace was rolled into the room with a metal poker in it. The clown mask woman grabbed the branding rod, and Leroy cried in realization.

"Please," he begged furiously, fighting against the metal chain. Two more figures grabbed him and pinned him down, lifting his shirt blinding him from the oncoming attack. He continued to struggle but it proved futile.

A searing hot square was felt on his back causing him to cry out as he fought against his restraints. The pain felt excruciating as it shot through his entire back. The smell of burnt skin, sweet and putrid, steaky and nauseating filled the room. Tyrone vomited into his tape and almost choked until it was ripped off his mouth. Leroy was untied and thrown outside.

The clown mask woman tilted her head as she was handed a machete. Her finger ran across the blade.

"I don't take kindly to traitors," she stated, "but I can't stand thieves either." She aimed the machete at Tyrone.

"I'm sorry," he begged.

"I'm glad you regret your actions, Tyrone," she responded, "so I'll make it quick." She placed her masked face right in front of Tyrone's face.

The idea that this would be last face he would see shocked Tyrone with so much pain and fear. He opened his mouth, but he couldn't speak as blood began to spurt out. He choked and flopped like a fish out of water before his head dropped like a stone, eyes still wide open, dull and glassy. The masked clown woman hacked off the head which slid of the neck and dropped to the floor.

She threw the machete back to the demon girl.

"Take the money, the coke and clean up," the demon mask called as the clown woman left the building. She entered her tinted BMW and removed her mask. Soon she was joined by a man wearing a Benjamin Franklin mask. He removed the mask to reveal a handsome tan face.

"Dickhead," she commented as they made their way from the scene of the crime.