Sister Souljah - Life After Death

She was thrown into the glass case with the others of her kind. I knew because I was still inside of her. My mind was still on. It wouldn’t shut off. I could hear, but I couldn’t see or feel a damned thing.

26.

The glass case was shattered after what felt like six months of time. Now, we are on the move. Pretty is. I am still inside of her. I can now hear more than just hissing. I can hear the sound of multiple footsteps running. Some are heavy human kinds of steps. Others are the pitter-patter of small creatures; others are the sound of things trotting, the sound of fluttering wings and sliding things, all creatures in motion.

“Reject the Nazi! Reject the Nazi! Reject the Nazi!” Bridgette was shouting again, although she didn’t need to shout. Somehow she got her hands on a megaphone. It was the one thing no one should’ve allowed her. How did she get into his tower? “Pretty! Brooklyn, Pretty, Brooklyn, Pretty, Brooklyn, where are you, my friends?” she screamed through the device. We couldn’t answer her. We could only keep moving through the maze, trying to find a way out. But then what?

“Gag the crazy bitch. She’s ruining everything,” I heard him say. But his voice was off in the distance. Seemed every creature and everybody and everything was trapped looking for a way out of the maze, while his security was searching in every direction for Bridgette and whoever was with her, if anyone.

“Ooch, don’t you dare touch me. Don’t you dare put your hands on me. You guys are workers. You should be on my side. Workers unite!” She shouted. “This guy is a tyrant. Join me! Reject the Nazi! Reject the Nazi! Reject the Nazi!” she screamed. Then I heard something drop and hit the floor hard. “He’s a murderer! He pretends to be a gentleman! He kills people in his nightclub oven every night! He lures them with his music! He makes them wait on long lines in huge crowds! They don’t even know or suspect that once they get inside, he robs them of all of their clothes and jewels and feeds them to the fire. He’s a grave robber! Poses as a businessman. Import/export my ass! He’s an animal hater, posing as Dr. Doolittle! He’s no Tarzan. And the Bastard! The Bastard! The Bastard!” Her megaphone must have dropped or got slapped away from her.

Now I could hear only her loud natural voice without the megaphone effect. “He has the nerve to name his nightclub One Night Only . Can’t you understand? It’s only one night because after one night in his oven you will no longer exist!! And another thing…” she said, and then her voice deaded. Pretty stopped moving. Other creatures were still moving. We heard a scuffle. Probably Bridgette fighting back, one woman versus his team of men. The exact kind of thing she hated the most. Then the scuffle stopped. I hoped they didn’t kill her… again. I hoped she was just knocked out like how I was after the car accident.

“You gave her the security codes. This is all of your fault,” I heard Mr. Light House say.

“No! It’s your fault! You broke your own rules,” I heard Olga’s voice say. I was like, What the fuck? Wasn’t she a pile of ashes on the convent bench? She was. But who am I to talk? Now I’m just a pile of shit inside a snake’s intestine. Do snakes even have intestines?

“You broke the main goddamn rule,” he yelled, losing his cool, which I had never seen him do when I was his top bitch. “You let a dead human have confidential information about our family. You put your own father at risk. I built this damned underground world. I let all of my children have more than enough. But my own daughter falls in love with this crazy dead human bitch. Then you give her all access to my tower. She already ruined my nightclub mojo. She’s out there in her painted old bus screaming into the crowd. Exposing the secret that makes every single night special. That’s what you did! That’s what my own daughter did to me!”

“No, it was that bitch who you let in here. You allowed her to change the security codes. You allowed her to put her own people on as staff. You gave higher status to a dead human than to your own sons. And you knew that that bitch was Dat Nigga’s Bitch. You stole your own son’s woman!” she said with hatred.

I felt like shit, for real. Was Olga his daughter? She looked white. Was Dat Nigga his son? Could a man as light-skinned as he is give birth to a man as beautifully deep black as Dat Nigga? Doesn’t that mean that Iblis is also his son? Wait a minute. I fucked the father and I fucked the son. And I was raped by his other son, who is Dat Niggas’s brother.

“You should have overlooked it. I am your father. I gave you a new body. Beautiful white skin like you always wanted. Green eyes and the face of one of those living humans in the magazines that you loved that I gave to you from my private collection. You were unattractive, tall and obese before. I had your hairy tail clipped and tucked. You had size-fifteen feet before. You were obviously a beast. I fixed that for you so that you would be comfortable with yourself. Didn’t I do all of that for you?” he asked her, but not like he was looking for an answer.

“You did, Father. Thank you. But I couldn’t stand you giving that same girl who Dat Nigga kept in his house and treasured like she was one of us the top position in your business, in your heart and in your eyes. How could she be more precious than me, your own daughter?” she demanded to know. Her voice sounded like she was aching, holding back from crying.

I was still stuck on realizing. Olga, who looked like a European supermodel, was Succubus, the ugly creature that tried to stuff her huge feet into my sky-high red leather boots. The beast that torched half of my hair. She was his daughter and she was Dat Nigga’s sister. But still she had sex with Dat Nigga and basically begged him to fuck her in the ass! What type of unheard of shit is that?

“You complain about everything,” he said to Succubus aka Olga. “You were jealous of my relationship with my head Yoo-nick. You demanded that I fire him! You said that you could do his job better than he could! Why do you interfere in the personal business of your father?”

“Because you always fall in love when you are personally involved with any man or woman. I thought it was a conflict of interest for you to be fucking him when he was the head of your tower security,” she said, as though she had nailed him.

“Because I was fucking him, and because he is a eunuch and is unable to fuck anyone himself, he fought the hardest to please me and secure me,” he said to Succubus.

“Humans—even if they are castrated—Father, are always more ambitious than they are anything else,” Succubus said.

“So we are back to the beginning. If you know that, why did you, my dear daughter, fall in love with a dead human and give her the keys to my universe? I never made that kind of mistake. The sex was all my personal choices. I own everything. I never allowed one ambitious human, alien, or animal, dead or alive, to steal one item from me. It is only my daughter who allowed the crazy-ass, dead human Bridgette bitch, right here, to do that.”

27.

I found myself in complete blackness once again. But I didn’t know if it is the darkness of the insides of Pretty’s serpent belly, or the outside atmosphere of the Last Stop Before the Drop. Pretty was not moving. She had not moved since the close of the argument between Succubus and her father. I don’t know if there is a way that a snake can kill itself, other than hurling itself at a speeding vehicle and being run over. I knew if Pretty knew a way to commit suicide as a serpent, she would certainly do it. I considered that perhaps she had pooped me out and was somewhere moving along on her own. As a rat, I had felt the pain of being chewed and devoured. But, I never felt the pain of being squeezed through an anus. I assume that if I had been, I would have felt it, but I don’t know.