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hennessystevens-udaku · 5 years

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My Bloody Valentine

A little twisted Love Day fic for my favorite rebel @thereturnofbadazz!

“I wonder how many lovers are gonna die today,” Aly’Sha said with sneer as she watched the news.

“What yo lil psycho ass talking about, Sha Sha,” Erik asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, it’s Valentine’s Day. Why you talking about folks dying?” Kimora chirped from the other side of the living room.

“It’s also Purge Day,” Aly’Sha responds casually.

“You mean poor man elimination day,” Angel says, cradling the twins closer. Now that she was older, she didn’t see the point of violence as a means of “cleansing” the country of its sins.

“Yeah that shit’s stupid,” Erik agreed, flipping the station. “Just another tactic white folks use to eradicate black folks. Alright ladies, if y’all don’t mind, me and Mama got a date,” Erik says with a sly grin in Hennessy’s direction.

“Actually baby, I was thinking maybe you could spend the day with another wife. You’ve spent the last 16 Valentine’s Days with me, spoil someone else,” she says not looking up from her MacBook. She was in the process of scouting out new locations for her dispensary and wasn’t exactly in the mood to break concentration. Before Erik could ask which of his wives would be the lucky lady this year, Ryley stormed into the house, chest rising and falling quickly with anger.

“What’s the matter, Princess?” he asked from his relaxed position on the couch.

“Them white bitches down the street keep fuckin with me. I’m trying to be nice and keep it cute since I’m a princess now and shit, but they about to make Ryley Badazz come out of retirement!” Erik chuckled at her, loving how sexy she got when she was angry.

“Calm down, Ry Ry. Tell Daddy what happened.” He listened intently, blood boiling as she explained how the Becky’s with the stringy hair had egged her car, slashed her tires, and had been overall mocking her for the past week.

“Calm down baby. You’re a princess, don’t lower your standards for peasants.”

“That’s cute and all, but look at what they spray painted on the house.” Erik’s smirk quickly faded to a menacing mug when he saw the words ‘Killmonger’s a bitch’ spray painted in bright red paint on the northern wall of The Kompound. Without another word, he made his way downstairs to his arsenal with Ryley hot on his heels.

“How about we show them white bitches who run shit,” he called over his shoulder.

“What you mean, Daka?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well it’s Valentine’s Day and it’s also Purge Day, so how about for our date we show them why they shouldn’t fuck with the Stevens-Udaku household?” Ryley’s face twisted into a devilish grin as she gazed upon the various weapons.

Wanna play, Candy Girl?” he asked as he handed her the Swarovski studded M-16.

“Let’s play, Daddy.”

“Y’all sure y’all don’t wanna get in on the action?” Erik asked the remaining wives as he prepared for the night’s festivities.

“This is Ryley’s night, why you inviting other people?” Henny scolded from her relaxed position between Charlie’s plush thighs. They had all agreed to watch the events from the body cameras Shuri had installed on his and Ryley’s protective armor, Angel not wanting to engage in the sport because she didn’t see the point of senseless violence.

“You right, Mama,” Erik replied solemnly, looking over at Ryley. “My bad, Princess.”

“It’s cool, Fathead. Now let’s go murder some white bitches,” she says with a laugh. She was all dolled up in a pink and black bejeweled bodysuit with a pink tutu and thigh high Louboutin Frenchissima boots. On her head, she donned a pink headdress that matched her bodysuit, each piece made out of vibranium to keep her safe. Not like anyone would dare try to harm a Princess of Wakanda.

“Damn you look good enough to eat, Ry Ry,” Erik said as he admired her attire.

“Later, Daka. We got business to handle first.” The announcement sounded as the pair finished adjusting their masks.

This is not a test. This is your emergency broadcast system announcing the commencement of the Annual Purge sanctioned by the U.S. Government. Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted. Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 a.m., when The Purge concludes. Blessed be our New Founding Fathers and America, a nation reborn. May God be with you all.

At the sound of the alarm, Erik and Ryley made their way outside to his blacked out Lamborghini Aventador with butterfly doors. For aesthetic effect, he blasted the psycho version of I Got 5 On It as he maneuvered the car down the street.

“Which house baby?”

“That one, that last one on the right.”

“Sha Sha, do your thing, baby.”

In an instant, the target house went completely dark and all of their protective armor was disabled, leaving them completely exposed to the outside world.

“How did you even do that?” Kimora asked Aly’Sha, whose face was buried in her iPhone.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t really want the answer to,” Hennessy answered for her.

“You ready, Ry Ry?”

“Let’s go.”

The pair exited the vehicle and slowly crept to the bay window that displayed the living room. The owners of the dwelling could be seen crowded around one another, a desperate attempt to protect themselves. Idiots.

“Sha Sha, do the thing.”

With another press of a button, the living room began to fill with tear gas, forcing the occupants of the house to run off in different directions, unintentionally aiding the pair in their sadistic plan.

“Time to go hunting,” Erik says as he kicked the door in.

“Aye, Vita,” Bast called out quizzically to Big Sis meandering in her lab. “Why you not upstairs watching Erik and Ry Ry turn up on the Beckys?”

Vita had a theatrical setup with a projector and surround sound. It was as if she converted her space into a miniature IMAX theater.

“Because, I have some unfinished business that's about to play out on this computer screen,” she explained leaning back in her seat, gathering her snacks, getting comfortable.

“What unfinished business?”

“Did I ever tell you the story of how I came to own Amazon?”

“Since when did you own Amazo-”

“See, what had happened was…”

He bowed before me, kneeling with great shame and humility. Once a proud, vain man now driven to begging. It's his own fault you know, this present state of duress. Often times when you wish to destroy your enemy you don't have to pull the trigger yourself, you only have to had them the gun and watch them blow their own brains out.

What made him a target, you ask? They were the vices he frequently indulged himself in; greed, lust, hubris, all of which led him to being an easy mark.

What were the bullets I used? His disgruntled employees, his gullible mistress, his betrayed wife, his disloyal business associates. Each pawn having been strategically used for my benefit and mine alone.

What pulled the trigger? He dared to insult me as if I were anything less than greatness. He'd the nerve to belittle my life's work as if I weren't a force to be reckoned with. I had just finished a masterful presentation of my future plans for my then budding tech company and as everyone else showered me with my well deserved praise he thought it humorous to describe my exemplary business model as “cute”. I could not let such a slight get away with impunity, a lesson needed to be taught.

Shortly after his billion dollar divorce when his liaisons with another woman were “mysteriously” leaked he tried to push his already exhausted workers even further which led to an international strike, that lasted for several months due to strikers being funded by an “anonymous” donor that helped them pay their bills at home and even finance ad campaigns to expose the heinous labor practices of the company, causing a severe decline in business. With sales and online traffic on the decline stocks careened further into the economic abyss leaving investors dissatisfied. Receiving inside information from an “unknown” source, they collectively decided to relocate their interests into another expedition… Mine.

That's right, my “cute” little business became a worldwide conglomerate seemingly overnight. And he could have shared in that wealth had he not crossed me. Now I, Davita Roberson, tower over him as he's become a hollow shell of his former self, selling what remains of his share in his dying company for pennies of what it used to be. Both his ex wife and former flame have found new loves that I helped introduced them to, his former workers are living more fulfilled lives under my employ, and I've blackballed all of those crooked investors because they couldn't be trusted.

Jeff will have to live out the remainder of his life buried in debt and regret, but who cares. The moment he affronted me was the instant he sealed his fate…

“And that's what happened,” Vita concluded.

With a roll of her eyes Bast couldn't help but ask,“You righteously decided to pull a massive company takeover because he called your business cute?”

“He was being passive aggressive. By calling my business plan “cute” he was downplaying it as if I were some child. He was belittling me and underestimated my capabilities. So bitch had it comin!”

“Aight aight, so what does that have to do with this little personal movie night you got going?”

“Well, Bezos couldn't stand being broke so he sold his body for a Purge Feast. He was right back to living his old lifestyle only on someone else's dime.”

“OK? That sounds amazing, what's the catch and what is a Purge Feast? Is he about to be gangbanged, what?”

“He's about to be eaten.”

“WHAT?”

“When a person donates their body to a Purge Feast they are provided a lavish lifestyle, they have to be disease free, drug free, given massages to ensure their tenderness and are put on a supremely exquisite diet of delicacies so that they're meat is undeniably sweet. Jeff has been fattened, and now is the time for the slaughter.”

“Ooooooh shit scoot over, bitch!”

The two women watched as Bezos was guided onto a giant chopping block placed on a stage. He was stripped bare naked then instructed to lay face down on the human sized cutting board. The executioner came into view wielding a great axe with a long blade, sharp enough to split hairs. The massive weapon was hoisted into the air then brought down upon the back of the former CEO’s neck. A clean cut, in only one swipe the head was severed and the blood gushed forth like the intense orgasm of a woman. The executioner continued to dissect the body as a flock of chef's assistants scurried to pick up the pieces while avoiding the swings. Once completed, the good was quickly prepared and presented to a dinner party that catered to the adventurous elites of society. As the soiree carried on, Davita took a bite of her own snacks, inhaling deeply, savoring the moment.

“Mmmm, delicious.”

“My bloody valentine, sweet comic Valentine. You make me smile with my heart,” Erik’s deep voice sang from the body cam. Charlie, Kimora, Hennessy, and Aly’Sha watched with glee as their husband dismembered one of the sisters, impaling her on the banister of the grand staircase of the foyer. So far, the pair had murdered three of the six members of the family and were searching for the patriarchs of the family. They passed the young boy’s severed head and the second sister’s torso on the way upstairs. They found the mother and father huddled in their shared bedroom, the mother clutching a bible to her chest.

“Why white people always turn to God when they about to die?” Erik inquired, more rhetorically than anything.

“P-Please don’t hurt us. We’ll give you anything you want,” the woman attempted to bargain.

“Bitch I’m a Prince, I don’t need ya money. I’m just here to give your family a lesson in respect. Now, I’ll only ask this once, where’s Penelope?”

“What do you want with my daughter?” the father asked with a little too much bass in his voice. Erik fired a warning shot to his right thigh before answering.

“I ask the questions here, Bob, but if you must know, the little bitch vandalized my property and harassed my wife. She just wants an apology, right Ry Ry?”

“Yes Daddy,” Ryley said with mock sincerity.

“She’s downstairs, under the staircase.”

“Say less,” Ryley said, skipping downstairs to the girl’s hiding place. She growled with anger when she discovered the spot was empty.

“That bitch lying, Daddy!” Another set warning shots went off upstairs, this time striking the mother in the ribs and the father in the shoulder.

“See, I was tryna be nice about this. I’m already gone kill y’all, don’t expedite the process. Where the fuck is she?”

“I’m right here you black bastard!” Suddenly the entire room exploded in flames as Penelope appeared with a flamethrower. When the flames dispersed, Erik stood completely unharmed with a twisted grin on his face.

“You really though you did some shit, huh?” Penelope’s face twisted in horror as she watched Ryley appear behind her with a metal baseball bat, a weapon she’d gotten from the younger boy’s room. With one hard hit to the head, Penelope was out. Erik and Ryley the drug the bodies downstairs, tying them up in the center of the living room.

“We are gonna purge today, purge today, purge today. We are gonna purge today and burn this bitch down,” Ryley sang gleefully as they exited the house.

“Sha Sha, cue the fireworks.”

In an instant the entire house exploded, lighting up the entire neighborhood like the 4th of July. As a means to commemorate the night, the couple made love on the hood of the Lamborghini, the screams of the dying family serving as their background music.

“Wow. That was hot,” Charlie said as Erik emptied himself onto Ryley’s bloodsoaked face.

“Literally,” Hennessy said in agreement. Suddenly, Ryley’s voice could be heard from the cam.

“Happy Purge Day, sluts!”

***************************

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#the kompound #my shit #wifey fics #ryley badazz #ryley the rebel #killmonger fic

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