Sister Souljah - Life After Death

But the next day, Succubus used the key she had made for the front door to enter. I was seated on the bed waiting for bedtime, whenever that would occur, I didn’t know for sure. He was out for a while. Succubus lit two torches and the flames revealed what I had caught whiff of on her arrival. She had a dog in her hand. She placed it on the floor and said, “Now this little bitch will learn her place.” Was she talking to me?

He came home. “Why did you bring that mutt up in here?” he said as soon as he walked through the door.

“Your bitch looked a little lonely,” she replied dryly.

“Put him back in the basement,” he said, as though he knew the dog.

“She stays up here. Why can’t he?”

“I don’t want puppies,” he said.

“It’s the closest you and I are ever going to get to having babies,” she said oddly.

“You talk too much. Take him down now,” he commanded her. She left. Babies, I thought to myself. She’s a dead bitch just like me. We can’t have babies, and she should be glad. I loved the fuckarama without the pregnancies and all of the complications that go along with it. From their conversation I could see that she thought she was top bitch, although I can’t imagine why? There had been plenty of women in and out of his playpen. All of them looked way better than her. She was a no-action bitch. For some reason, though, I thought further. How come I never see any of the other females twice in a row? Meanwhile, this Succubus showed up all of the time? What was she doing to make all of the rest stay away after that first freaky, unforgettable sexual encounter? Wouldn’t every single one of them want a second and third go-round? I did! Why didn’t he snatch back her key to his place? Especially because she used it like she was a co-owner, or paid rent here and was a resident. Why bother to let her in when clearly he didn’t like her? He didn’t even fuck her right. He never ever broke down and whispered in her ear a confession of his attraction to her, or highlighted her irresistible qualities. She didn’t have none! I laughed, but it came out like barking. I didn’t like the sound of that, so I stopped.

“What’s the count on your side?” A male voice had entered our darkness, sounding like he was on speakerphone. I didn’t hear no ringtone, or no doorbell, or door opening, though. He wasn’t in here before he started talking either. And, I never saw my nigga’s house phone or cell phone even during the few times that the firehouse was well lit.

“Two thousand six for the week,” my nigga answered back.

“I’m at 1,566,” the other guy said. “And if you keep dipping into your stash soon I’ll catch up and surpass you,” he added.

“Keep trying,” my nigga said confidently. “Iblis, what’s the week total citywide?”

“Six thousand houses reported in to Father. Average house 1,100, plus top twenty earners average recruitment 1,468.”

“Aight cool. What did father say?” my nigga asked.

“Why ask when you already know. He’s greedy and never satisfied. You the top earner. It doesn’t matter what he says.” Iblis paused. “Yo! Who’s that pretty thing you sped through the block with two times? First time she was in your Jag wearing the white mink. That’s how I spotted her.” My nigga hung up. My head swelled. Even in the Last Stop Before the Drop, the County of the Ungrateful, the State of Ignorance, and the Land of Arrogance, Winter Santiaga was still turning heads and the streets was still watching.

I heard a key turn in the lock what seemed like immediately after my nigga left out. Now that I had overheard the stats on his hustle, I didn’t even get mad that he was leaving me behind fairly regularly in the dark firehouse. Besides, it was warm, and the silk blankets on our bed were soft and comfortable even with the rubber thorns below them. I heard a chain rattle. A flashlight beam flashed on. When I finally saw Succubus, she was holding a long leash with no dog attached. I wiggled beneath the blanket. She started searching around for me with her thin beam of light. It was hard not to make any doggy sounds. The breathing and panting and wagging are endless. When the light beam landed on me, I wiggled out from under and darted to the floor. “You got the nerve to be on the bed under the goddamn covers!” she shouted. I dodged the beam, scattering here and there. The sound of my nails skidding on the floor was giving me away. She started using her chain as a whip and trying to strike me with it. Instead of running away from her, I charged her and bit her left ankle. My teeth penetrated deep in her. “You fucking little bitch, I’ll kill you,” she threatened. She wielded the chain whip so hard that it landed on my back and stopped me dead in my tracks. The pain was great. And it took everything I had not to whimper. Pausing was my biggest mistake. She grabbed me by my hind legs and dragged me backwards. After she was satisfied that she had burnt my face and underbelly, which was scraping against the cement floor, she raised me into her arm. I tried to bite her again. She took both of her powerful hands and forced my mouth closed, then clasped it shut with thick rubber bands. She hurled me against the wall, which was completely extra unnecessary. On impact I felt smashed. Then I slid down to the floor. I was out cold. That must have been the exact point when she leashed me, dragged me out of the firehouse, and drove me away. But I don’t know if she drove me out, or if she put my bloodied body into a trash bag. Maybe she threw the bag into a large trash bin and then it was picked up and dumped elsewhere. After I had high-speed hit the wall, I really don’t know what happened to me next.

11.

My mind clicked on before my eyes opened. Good thing I had no expectation to see light. Even in my dreams there is no light. It’s good that I had let light go. I’d gotten comfortable with only the flame and the dim visuals it allows me to see. Because, when I woke, there was only blackness and no vision at all. I laid there panting. So I knew I was still a dog. My wet and cold nose was assaulted by a series of smells, each distinct, but somehow mixed together. It was not the scents of humans. I know the difference. And it was also not the odor that I was well familiar with that oozed out of the open sewer where I often found myself seated, legs paralyzed and alone. I could feel that wherever I was now, I was not alone. Normally this would be a good thing. However, I sensed a threat.

The side of my body that hit the wall when Succubus threw me was paining me. Testing my abilities, I tried to stand up on all four of my legs. When I did I ached and felt lopsided. I attempted to walk, but I was slow and gaining only inches, which is less than even a new toddler would gain when taking her first steps. In what seemed like an instant, my nose hit metal bars, which caused me to inch backward. When I had taken a number of steps back, my tail hit metal bars. So then I knew. I had experienced this before. I was in a fucking cage. I could hear lots of others breathing. Also some cooing. Some screeching. Some squeaking. Some braying. Some hissing. Some snorting. Some howling. Some mooing. And I also heard hooves hitting the ground. They were all different languages. Yet, I could tell all of the sounds were sounds of captured creature’s, anger, and complaints. I only understood English and barking. So I began barking. It was a genuine, “Where my dogs at the moment.” Many canines returned my call, including the howling of wolves. However, when they did, I could tell that they were extremely far off from where I was caged. All they were barking about was how fucked up this shit is.

Succubus ain’t slick. She was the same as the authorities. She put me wherever I am right now, to keep me in an unfamiliar territory with no allies. Other dogs would be the natural attraction for me to go to, to gang up with, and not turn into food. I was only happy about one thing. I didn’t hear no roaring. That meant wherever I was, there are no lions, tigers or bears, at least not yet.