Regina Urbana (Urban Queen) Part Two: The Angels

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"Hello. This is Detective -REDACTED-, Badge number 4-8-9-0. The Date is -REDACTED-, the time is 9:35 PM. I am recording this as a contingency plan, as the work and case I'm working on are hazardous. To whom may hear this, I shall catch you all up on the current details. I am in charge of dealing with the ever-rising problem of organized crime in our city of New York. For the past five years, this city and its gangs have been getting worse -- not only has criminal activity been on a record high. But the membership of these gangs has far exceeded our expectations. However, I am recording this to focus on one particular gang—The Angels. Founded sometime in 2004, the group has spiked in notoriety, influence, and bravado due to a specific leadership takeover. This person in question will be the focus of my efforts. I shall record another report as soon as more information is gathered. Detective -REDACTED-, Badge 4-8-9-0, Over and Out."

Drama / Action
5.0 1 review
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Part Two: The Angels (1/7)


April 16th, 2010

Unknown Location

Why . . . ? I feel so . . . sick. I’m so out of breath that my stomach and chest feel tight; I wanted to curl up. Why do I feel like this? Why can’t I see? My sight’s blurry. Tears, it must be tears, why am I crying? My head is spinning. I have to figure out where I am.

Unable to get an idea of where I am, I began to move around in my area. Still, it was quickly apparent that I was sitting inside a vehicle. I was strapped in with a seat belt. Whoever did this to me must know about safety first, huh? My arms are free -- well. It’d be weird if they were strapped down or something. I reach up to wipe at my eyes, to remove anything that may obscure my vision.

Rubbing at my eyes, I started to hear a radio playing . . . it was rap music. Removing my hands from my eyes, I blink a couple of times to remove the stuff from my eyes. I can finally see. I’m in a large vehicle with three other men. One was driving, one was in the front passenger seat, and one was sitting next to me on my left . . . who are these people?

“Wh --” I attempted to speak but . . . my throat felt awful. It felt dry and scratched. What the hell happen? Shaking my head to help regain my consciousness that threatened to slip away. Why am I here? Why do I feel like this? And better yet, where is my . . . family? It was then that my memory came flooding back. I was coming home from school with good news . . . and I was so excited to tell my family.

But there were many people in my house, and I ran in to see what was going on. But, my family was on the floor, with guns to their heads . . .There was a leader among these people . . . a tall, black man. He was wearing black and white, with chains around his neck. Then . . . he gave the order for my family to be killed . . . Mom . . . Dad . . . Matthew. Who is this mother fucker..?

“You’re awake, Lucy?” I almost jumped in my seat as the man next to me spoke to me. It was just then that I realized that I was . . . so exhausted. I could barely move. With the energy I could muster, I moved my head over to my left to see who was talking to me. My eyes widened once I realized who was next to me -- it was him. The guy who killed my family, that . . . son of a bitch. If I could, I’d grab a knife and stab this cunt over and over -- mangle his fucking face to make it impossible to identify -- . . . but. All I could do was stare at him in shock. I couldn’t as much express anything else . . . I was just so goddamned tired.

“I was starting to think you’ve died on us.” the man chuckled as he laid back on his seat, a smug smile across his face, reaching up to his face to wipe away any debris on his cheek.

"The name’s James Walker. The Boss’ Right Hand Man. And due to your dumb ass of a father not keeping up with his payments to us Angels, The boss was the one who sent me to deal with his sorry ass and his family. But who’d think I’d get another member out of it too. You’d do just fine, Lucy.” he said as he reached down to the vehicle’s floor, opening a small portable cooler on the floor before bringing out a cold bottle of water.

" Here, girl. You must be thirsty, right?” he said, holding out the bottle to me, offering me a drink. But . . . I couldn’t take it. It’s not due to any pride or anything -- I was too exhausted to have reached for it. I wasn’t even able to mouth the words I wanted to say.

“No? Alright, suit yourself. Just sit there and look pretty, Lucy. The main base of operations is still about an hour’s drive.” He said, pulling the water bottle away, opening it, and gulping down the liquid. My mouth and throat were dry and parched -- I desperately needed that water but . . . I don’t have the energy right now. Shifting my head position once more, I looked away from that asshole and just stared out the window. We were . . . hell, I didn’t know nor did I care. I wanted to cry and scream out some more -- because of my family but . . . I just couldn’t. My eyes were heavy, to begin with. According to that Walker asshole, it wouldn’t be for a bit to get to wherever the hell we’re going to. A small sight exited my mouth before I went ahead and closed my eyes.

My eyes were sore because of all of the crying I’ve done in the past couple of hours. I guess it’s true that people cry so much and so long, they out. As I sat there, leaning against the side of the vehicle with my eyes closed, I began to think of stuff...

It was as if my brain’s reaction to all of this was to try and distract me with happy, fond memories. To make me forget about...what happened to my family. As my thoughts began to wander away, I was given the memory of meeting someone six years back from now. I remember it was yesterday...

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