Abuse of Chikara (book 1) (26 page)

Psycho had been cruising around downtown looking for thugs, especially white thugs, to punish. He finished off a cold one while he listened to Dirty Red. Red had told him a lot of interesting things about the spirit world. Seems everyone had a spirit no matter who they were. Any deceased person became a spirit. Money, race, sex and status in the previous life did not matter. When you died your spirit left the body. God did exist and so did Satan, and human angel half-breeds who wanted to ultimately replace humans as the dominant race on this planet. Red told him there was one god no matter what religion you followed.

Red told him that he was a hostile spirit trapped between life and the afterlife. Red told him that he would help him with his knowledge and insight that came with being dead. Normally he would only be able to inhabit dead flesh or a corpse. However, since Psycho was pretty much lacking emotion, caring or basic concern for others, he was soulless. With only a small spark of life, he could cohabitate his body and communicate with him. The only thing he asked is that Psycho commit hostile acts against people, especially against white people whenever possible. Red called himself something named a vetala. Psycho did not really care what he called himself or if he was an evil spirit. If he wanted to come along for the ride as he fucked shit up, then he was more than welcome to. Red directed him to the Clark and Lake Train station. Seems some white punks was going around stealing elderly men’s wallets. Red told him the guys had a habit of cutting people’s pants pockets with a razor blade. The guys would run before the police could get to the scene. One of them would show up today and try to rip off a short Asian woman. Percy was Melvin’s best friend and often went around playing the white thug game with him. Percy was another thug loser with a warrant for his arrest. You would think that people like this would lay low, but apparently, common sense was not so common. It was around 11:30 PM and few people were in the area at this time. It was the perfect time to commit a crime with very little chance of being seen. This tall skinny white punk had drawn a gun on the short Asian woman who was giving him her purse under threat of violence. It seemed the woman was going to slow as Percy moved toward her and struck her with his right fist knocking her out. Psycho boy quickly comes behind Percy and hits him in the back of the head with a black jack causing him to drop the gun and fall to the ground. Psycho boy picks the small Asian woman up and puts her in the back seat of his car parked on the corner. Psycho then picks the man up and takes him into an alley at the end of the street. There is a factory close to the train station and one of the entrances is in the alley. Dirty Red has instructed him to take Percy there. Red concentrates and causes the factory door to unlock and open. The inside of the factory is dark and Psycho Boy does not know where the light is located. Dirty Red causes the light to come on. Psycho Boy notices that Red seems to be somewhat fatigued now. Psycho Boy unzips his pants and sends a steady stream of urine flowing down on Percy’s face. Those two-liter sodas were really getting to him. After a few minutes, Percy came to his senses and stood up. Psycho Boy put down the Black jack and went heads up against Percy. Percy received a steady stream of jabs, uppercuts and body blows and an assortment of kicks. Psycho Boy picked Percy off the floor and threw him against every surface he could find in the factory until Percy was bloody all over his body. Dirty red was laughing his head off dancing like a lunatic doing an assortment of dances. Dirty Red had informed him that Percy had a rap sheet of crimes and no one would miss his punk ass. Dirty Red wanted him to kill this punk and in fact, he was in agreement that this punk should die. The fact that Percy was white would mean there would be no marching and little media scrutiny over a white man being shot. Dirty Red had informed Psycho Boy that Percy was hated by even his immediate family members. The gun he took off Percy fell to the ground. Percy picks it up and fires. Percy is shocked when his hand jerks to the right causing him to miss badly. Psycho Boy fires putting multiple shots into Percy killing the punk. His story would be that Percy had run into the factory, during his attempt to arrest him Percy got hurt fighting and was shot because he pulled a weapon. Psycho Boy could get used to having an evil spirit that could throw off peoples aim with a weapon. He had removed all of the bullets except one per Dirty red’s instructions. He was not worried about any camera or cell phone video contradicting his story. All evidence supported his story now. Dirty Red had disrupted any electronic devices in the general area for the duration of the incident. Dirty red was no longer visible to him, guess he had worn himself out. All he heard was good job white boy and he was alone. He called the incident in waited for the ambulance and other personnel to arrive.

The man was named Melvin and he lived in the area. He lived in a condominium building and did not really need the money. The punk stayed with some well-off chick who bought him whatever he wanted as long as he put it down in bed. Red said that this white boy was laying the hammer down on an older white chick whose brains he screwed out regularly. The punk had been in prison before, and got a thrill out of doing stuff like this. Melvin had plenty of chances to change his life around, but simply did not wont to. He was a big, burly white trash punk that loved the thug life. He spent hours every day watching movies like Scarface and City of God. Other kids wanted to be the hero when they were kids. He had always dreamed of being a gangster lord even as a child. Of course, these aspirations outstripped his abilities, but he had remained true to the thug life. He also told Psycho that Melvin had a warrant out for his arrest for assault and battery against an elderly woman. He told Psycho that the man would be at a bar at night drinking. The owner of the bar was an unscrupulous man that had previous dealings with Dirty Red. According to Red, he would support any story Psycho wanted as long as he was paid. Not to mention Red had dirt on him that could put him in jail or prison for a long time. Psycho went by the bars location to work out something with the man. The owner had a small convenience store close to the bar. This had been easier than he thought it would be.

Psycho was at the bar drinking something Red insisted he try. It was a vodka mixed with a little peyote he had brought with him, juice and lemon kool Aid. He ordered one for Dirty Red as well and had it sitting at the stool next to him. Red, of course, declined the drink; but he left it there in case he changed his mind. Red informed him that Melvin had entered the bar and had been there for at least 15 minutes. It was a good-sized bar with a lot of people moving about, making conversation, and trying to get someone to go home with them for the night. He had to admit it was not a bad bar. You had darts, pool tables and various video games. The food here was pretty good as well. They had a small restaurant connected to the bar, which sold Italian beef, burgers, hot dogs and other similar food.

After knocking back a few drinks, he played Double Dragon. He had loved this game when he was a kid. He had played part two of the arcade version to death. The best one was the Nintendo version of Double Dragon Two. That one had been completely different from the arcade version. It was actually better than part two of the arcade game. Red was in the general area, appearing in different places, looking at different people. Red could tell him most of these people’s life stories. Things no average person would be able to know, unless they had spent a great deal of time with them. Even if you did spend a great deal of time with some people, you might not really know what was going on in their head. What did Bill have a habit of saying “a man has three hearts. His outer heart he shows to the outside world. His middle heart he shows to his family, and his inner heart he keeps to himself.” Red had the ability to get at what was going on in people’s inner hearts.

Red did not walk so much as he disappeared and reappeared in another area. No matter how loud it got in the bar, he could still hear Red crystal clear. Red told him they should keep coming back to this bar. There were a number of people that would most likely come back here, who needed to be abused and punished like the white trash they are. As per their agreement, the bar owner bartender informed him that he recognized Melvin as someone the police were looking for. Since Psycho was an officer, he asked him to look into it. That was how the story would go anyway. Melvin went into the bathroom to take a leak, and Psycho followed after him a minute later. He checked all the stalls to make sure no one else was inside. Then he locked the bathroom door with the key he received from the owner. Psycho showed Melvin his police identification and then asked for his ID. Of course, Melvin had no intention of surrendering to him and tried to knock him over to get to the door. Psycho braced himself against the force and struck the man with a series of blows to the private area, and neck. Melvin went down without much trouble at all. Melvin was used to bullying people who were weaker than him or having other guys to back him up. Psycho handcuffed the punk’s arms behind his back and cuffed his ankles together. He took a moment to take a long leak that lasted at least four minutes. Red had appeared and was critiquing his performance. They were discussing the best methods of kicking someone’s ass when Melvin started talking bs. “Bitch-ass cop, who are you fucking talking to? Take these cuffs off and I’ll kick your ass. You little skinny pussy, I’d make you my bitch in prison.”

Psycho kicks Melvin in the face to shut him up and drags him towards the toilet. Psycho was a slim man, but incredibly strong. He regularly bench-pressed up to 350 pounds and the martial arts training did not hurt. He could easily throw people around like ragdolls if he wanted to. He drags Melvin up and dunks his face in to the toilet. His urine was especially yellow as he often drank only a small amount of water each day. He pulled Melvin's head out after a minute. The fool is still cursing and talking about how he is going to fuck him up. He sticks Melvin's head back in the toilet again and repeats the process multiple times. He had to admit that this was kind of fun. He could see why Red had enjoyed it so much when he was alive, and still did even after death. Red was jumping around and cheering like he was watching a sports event and his favorite team just won the championship game.

He had to give Melvin credit, the man was still talking shit after getting his ass kicked and face dunked in urine. He moved Melvin over to the side and sat down on the toilet and took a massive dump. His dumps always smelt horrible. Guess it was the combination of alcohol and drugs he always consumed. Man was this shit foul-smelling. It was his shit and he had to stuff cotton balls up his nose. A little trick he had learned from Dirty Red, who often ate the foulest foods he could think of before engaging in this activity. He picked the punk off the floor and pushed his face toward the toilet. Melvin shakes violently trying to resist what is about to happen. There is not much he can do with his hands and feet cuffed. Psycho dunks his face in the shit and urine. He does this over and over, giving the thug just enough time to get some air. He noticed the profanity laced tirade had stopped. Guess the fool realized he was not dealing with a regular cop. This had been fun; however, he had other things to do so it was time to wrap this up. He had the bar owner come in as he uncuffed Melvin, he drew his gun and shot Melvin repeatedly killing him. He made sure to plant a gun on the man. He would say the impact from being shot caused Melvin to spin around and land face first in the toilet. Melvin had gotten out of the cuffs when he dropped the key accidently. Melvin had pulled out a gun hidden on his person that he had not noticed the first time he frisked him. It would sound a bit sketchy to be honest, but it did not matter. This guy was a career thug with a rap sheet five miles long. There would be no public outcry over his death. No judge would believe this crazy white wannabe thug over a good, honest decorated cop. Eyewitness testimony would match up with everything he said. Melvin had made things even better by starting a little shoving match with some guy before he went into the bathroom. He would have eyewitnesses who would say that they had seen Melvin showing off a small gun similar to what Psycho had planted on him. He would have done this a month ago, but he had been on leave while the shooting of Percy was investigated by the department. There would be reports, of course, and an investigation, this type of thing went on with shootings by police. He had been doing this for a long time and would come out looking like a good cop doing his job. In some sense that is what he really was. It depended on how you looked at it. He had abused this man and treated him like shit literally. The thing is he was scum and deserved to be put out of his misery. No one would miss him assaulting elderly people, robbing people or stealing cars. Good riddance to his ass. Dirty Red was already telling him who their next victims should be, and where and when they could be located. May as well call this in and get started.

Psycho Boy’s dreams were no more violent than they usually were, but they were some-what different. Usually he would dream about things he did back when he was a child living in Mexico. He often dreamt of the times he set things on fire. It had started out with small fires, burning trash or other nondescript things. It had moved up to small animals and later on to people. When he joined a gang when he was older, it was an outlet for his violent tendencies. The gang allowed him to set fires to the homes of people who were causing them problems and would not cooperate. In many ways, Mexico was one of the happier times in his life. He had people around him with a great deal of money and influence, which saved him from any responsibility for many of his crimes. The gang had bought off many elected officials and many members of law enforcement, even down to the rank-and-file police officers. Add in the fact that his adopted parents were filthy rich and often interceded for him no matter what he did. This put him in a unique situation that few in society would be able to relate to. He could do almost any thing he wanted and did not have to face any real punishment for it at all. Only those who were born with silver spoons in their mouth or some athletes could relate to the freedom this gave him from society’s social controls. Not even they could fully relate, though. These dreams were a bit different . He was dreaming about things that were not memories of his past. Nor were they dreams he had ever had before. He was dreaming about shooting white people in a mall. He was walking around in a mall shooting every white person he came in to contact with. In the dream, he had some type of sniper rifle, maybe a .22 caliber or something more powerful. Inside the mall there was some rap song playing. Some old song with Dr.Dre and Ice Cube singing that he could not remember the name of the song right now. It was the one about O.J. Simpson. Finally it came to him, it was Natural Born Killers. By this time he had shot maybe 12 people. Twelve white people that is. Children, women, men, young or elderly, it did not matter. Only white people were targeted, though.