The Nightmare

Sweat.

I'm covered in it. It's been 15 years since that fateful day. But just like every other night, the day haunts me. Plague my dreams. The screams of my parents. Their eyes that were so full of life turned so …cold.

It's been exactly 5475 days since I became Ashanti.

8 years ago, I became the bridge between the Mafia and the human world.

I know it sounds corny, but I am. Even I can't comprehend how a fragile 10-year-old girl turned into someone who is feared by most.

The mere name Ashanti sends shivers in the back of men. It's a very long story of how that happened. One I'm not ready to jump into, but a single nightmare I'm back to that girl. Every night I'm not 25 but 10.

Throwing the duvet off me, I check the time, and it's 2:43 am. I'm not going to get some sleep anyway. I might as well get some work done.

Taking my pack of cigarettes, I walked to the balcony of my apartment on the last floor.

There's a queen size bed covered with black sheets and four pillows of the same color. There's a furnace on the side of the room. A flat-screen TV and a black rug. Yes, I'm a freak of black. That's who I am. That's how my heart is.

Black.

Turning and looking at the city below, there's little to no noise. Few cars are honking. Must be people heading to work. Looking at them now makes me realize they have no idea of what exists within this city.

Maybe they do, but pretend they don't. I don't know which is which, but that's smart.

Exhaling the smoke through my nose, I feel much better. Now to get some work done.

Walking into my ensuite bathroom, with Four shower heads and a large vanity mirror on the wall. I slowly take my pants off and throw them in the basket and jump in the shower after making sure the water is to a minimum.

It's a wonder the things a bath can do. I feel fantastic when I get out. I threw on black lace panties and black leather Jeans. Black shirt and Black Boots.

I open my drawer and take out the guns I keep with me. After making sure it's loaded, I keep them at the back of my jeans. I picked up the knives I've used to kill so many and tucked them in my Jeans along with my phone, not before checking it for updates. Besides a message reminding me of what I need to take care of, there was no update. Update on Him.

Roman.

Fucking morons. Can't get a simple job done. I'll just have to find a way to meet him personally. I have to do every damn thing all the time.

Feeling so pissed up at the idea of doing this simple task myself, I grab the black duvet bag I'm supposed to deliver and head for the elevator.

Walking into the parking lot where my Escalade is parked. I hear voices and sounds of grunts and pants not far away.

My hands immediately grab the gun, ready for what I needed it for. I turn the corner and see five men over what seems to be the body of a man. I could walk away and pretend I didn't see them, but I can't.

“Hey boys” I drawled, their heads snapping up in my direction. I leaned on the hall calmly, then, “What are you guys doing? “

If these men were smart, they would be afraid. There are five of them and I'm alone. Yet, I make them turn in my direction. But these men, they aren't smart. Proof enough when one of them opened his mouth

“Who do you think you are to interfere in something that doesn't concern you?” One Of the guys sneered, see? Not smart. He flexed his muscles in my direction. It probably scared me.

Charming.

“I asked you,” a step, "what do you think you're doing?” Another step and before he could speak "and before you answer that question "I stand calmly, tucking my hands into my pocket while holding the knife " "I'll advise you to choose your next words carefully” I shrugged nonchalantly and grinned menacingly "who knows ?” the long pause, shark inhale of air and then "it might be your last”.

Being a death dealer means I'm sensitive to my

environment. The wind. The noises. My opponent. The rise and fall of their chest. Their body language and one look at these men tell me exactly what I need to know. They're drunk and scared. Worse combination. Men are enough problems. Throw in alcohol, weed, and then fear? You get an intolerable bunch.

Still, the first men signaled to them and the first one broke into a run, yelling.

That's his first fucked up. Alerting the opponent of his attack. I ducked at the last minute and back kicked him which send him flying into the nearest wall.

The four other men stare at their friend and hesitate, the second mistake.

Don't hesitate. It could cause you, your life. The Man holding the gun won't think twice to put a bullet into your head.

I ran left and then right and went sliding and stabbed the two of them legs and kicked the other two feet from under them, which earned me their cries of pain and blood flashing on the ground.

I walked towards the men and grabbed the man who seemed to be the boss and punched his face twice. His blood flashed on my hands.

“Next time, you get an order from a woman to stop.” a punch "you stop.” another punch “I don't care what it is you're doing” I throw his almost lifeless body on the ground "I'm I clear? “

“yea… Yes… Yes "Good. He's a smart man. Well, smart too late anyway.

“Get up and never return. And if I ever catch you around these premises again. I won't be so kind. “ I kicked the other men on the ground, groaning in pain” and get these weaklings out of my sight” I spit out in disgust. They couldn't get up fast enough, like their asses were on fire. Even though they looked funny trying to run like that. Hmm now, what to do?

Oh yes, the man they were beating. Now, what do we have here? The man is badly beaten up, he's barely recognizable. There are cuts on his arms, and forehead, and his shirt is soaked with his blood. I crouched at his side and touched the pulse located on the neck for any sign of life.

I exhale deeply when I find out that he's alive.

The area is quiet except for the tapping of my hands on the phone. I should put this damn thing on mute or vibration. The phone rings for a while before it connects.

“What have you done this time around?” came the gruff voice of Caleb. He's solid. From the sound of his voice I know he was asleep, not an early riser, that one, and He's annoyed.

“Ah, Caleb, my good ole friend” I grinned even though he can't see me.

“Cut the crap and tell me what the hell you want from me. Its five am” Five? I checked the watch in my hands and sure enough, it is. wasted so much time on those bastards. I should've castrated them.

“I need an ambulance, call them and direct them to the park under my building.” Back to the point. I have less than an hour to get to my location. Fucking Men. He sighed like He was so tired of me” and hurry Caleb, it's an emergency "

“You always have blood emergencies "he muttered under his breath followed by strings of curses and then” fine. Give me less than fifteen minutes "“Ah that's the Caleb I love dearly, that wasn't so hard now was it?” I'm only like this with him. He helped me through so much. He was my rock.

“Do me the biggest favor of my life” before I could respond, he shouted “delete my damn number” and hung up before I could reply.

Huh, Childish.

I dust imaginary dust off my clothes and wipe the blood off my knives and hide them. I scan the environment one more time before I head for my car.

Over the years I've gotten accustomed to the blood on my hands and this time it doesn't phase me anymore. My life is a routine. Get up, smoke, deliver news, killed if there need to be, and sleep with My air conditioner at 16, cooling my ass off.

People knew better than to offend me. I mean, both men and women in this world I'm so deep into. However, it didn't stop me from doing what needed to be done. I consider myself a balance between the Mafia world and the regular world.

See, Men from the mafia world, or The Background as it is called, allow power to get to their heads. Sell coke, own guns, and now they think they're the big shots. Some of them turn to Child Trafficking and that's an absolute no for me. A firm one.

I'm just here to make sure nobody steps out of line. It's a tough job, one I'm damn good at.

Even though I'm well-known, I still haven't gotten into contact with The man I'm going to enjoy killing. He's smart, I'll give him that. He's the hardest to see. In Fact, In the past 8 years, I've only gotten a glimpse of his back, and it took me every ounce of my self-control to watch him walk away. But if there's anything I've learned over the years, it's patience.

“Patience Dog eats the best bone” I'm stuck with this parable.

I pack my car in front of the tall building in front of me. Its magnificent color of gold and silver glows with all the lights bouncing from it. Remember I told you," I make sure nobody steps out of line”? Yep, this is one of the times.

“Time to get this shit over with” I muttered under my breath and made sure my car was locked.

Walking slowly, but determinedly, I head for the lobby. This man better not give me shit. I like him, but he's been pissing me off for a while now. He better be cautious with me today. I'm not in the mood.

What can I say? I'm good for this job, but every so often it's shit.