WARNING: The following content includes graphic language and violence. Viewer DISCRETION is highly advised. This is a work of fiction.
To Each Birth, is a Death.
My 18th birthday finally arrived yesterday with much celebration. Kenny and I spent half the day drinking beer with Elizabeth not bitching at me (It’s a birthday miracle!). I was officially inducted into the Organization 28 and welcomed into the Aryan-Viking Alliance. It was a happy moment for all of us. It’s been months since I last saw Catherine, and weeks I even thought of her. Tonight though she was all I could think about. It was sad really; I’m up in the balcony that is reserved for V.I.P. at Boomers, the local nightclub that the Alliance took over after it was shut down for underage drinking, but all I could think of was Catherine! Boomers was a big place, and not many people could reach the top section that I was sitting in for a birthday party, overseeing the crowd and the band performing on the stage.
Paco and Pedro have not been seen since Kenny and I beat them, so this party can also be a celebration of us cleansing the area. However, Catherine laid heavy on my mind, as she had laid in that bed awaiting me. I stroked my newly grown goatee as my mind start to race. I thought of what she was doing now, if she thought of me, if she even remembered me. No news of her returning has shown up. I knew she was emotional about family but this was ridiculous!
“Happy birthday, Shane!” exclaimed a silky smooth voice filled with pride, interrupted my thought process. I blinked and looked up to see the general of The Aryan-Viking Alliance himself, Tom Williams. He was an elder man, in his early 60s; he had smoky hazel eyes that matched his thin gray hair. He was in a blue, white and black flannel shirt with black slacks. At least with the lights changing color so often I think that’s what the shirt color was. He was cool, but ran on and on and on about white power. I’m all for the cause but at times he needs to shut up; he doesn’t even watch football anymore because he said ‘it’s too multicultural’.
“Hail Tom,” I saluted. He waved me down as he sat opposite of me.
“You don’t need to salute on your birthday. Especially you, you’re Shane Magnar! A third generation Nationalist, you should be very proud. Your father and grandfather were great warriors, much like you are,”
“Thank you Tom, that means a lot. Everyone said how my father spoke highly of you,”
“Yes we always had a mutual respect for each other. He was into the old Aryan ways, kill or be killed. A trait he learned from his father. I use tactics for victory, just like you do but you can also fight anyone and win. You’re a special Aryan, or Viking, whichever you are. You use your brains and brawn,”
“Thank you again, Tom. I do what I can for our race,”
“And you have honor. You’d be surprised how little honor is left,” Tom shook his head disgusted.
“My loyalty is my honor”
Tom looked behind me, “Don’t be so shy, sweetheart. Shane won’t bite… too hard,”
I grinned, as I ran my fingers through my shoulder length dirty blond hair. Everyone was surprised I didn’t shave it off like the others. I looked behind me, “Who’s this?”
“Shane, I’d like you to meet my niece, Mary. She is 17 and been on the market for months now, like you,”
“Uncle Tom insisted I wait for him to find a suitable candidate. I normally wouldn’t, but I trust him with my life,” Mary informed, “Hello Shane,” she extended her hand like a lady.
I took it into mine and gave a gentle kiss, “Greetings Mary, but your uncle has failed to compliment your Aryan beauty in his introduction,”
“Beauty goes without saying,” smiled Tom.
She was radiant. Her light green eyes sparkled, honey blonde hair waved, her full breasts were covered by an Angry Aryans T-shirt, luscious curves that I could see in her Wrangler jeans. By Odin, she took my breath away and her voice sang through my head louder than the thrash band that was screeching on stage. I stared back to her eyes; her angelic face was moon kissed.
Tom could plainly see our eyes meeting for moments that seemed like eons. He might have gave a grin, but I was too mesmerized by Mary to notice. “I’ll leave you two alone,” and he did just that.
“How come I don’t see you at any of the rallies?” I asked.
“Because I been living in California, but my father turned his back on his race by divorcing my mom for a nigger. It’s sickening,”
“Yeah, it is,”
She smirked; those white teeth that peaked out gave more than just politeness. She had a deviant side to her, and I wanted it out.
I heard Kenny enter the V.I.P section. He was in the t-shirt of the local thrash band that was playing on stage now. It read Fatal on top, with a stick figure drinking a beer and smoking a bong. The corner of the shirt read the CD title “Run For Cover”. Kenny sat down in the chair between us, “Did I miss something?”
“Not much, just most of high school,” I looked over at him.
“Oh, so nothing important. Who’s this?”
“Mary meet my best friend Kenny, Kenny meet Tom’s niece,”
“Wow, I get a title already? I feel so honored,” she looked back at me.
“Nope, just a number,” grinned Kenny.
Mary cast Kenny a dirty look, and then turned back to me, “So Shane, my uncle told me a lot about you. How can a catch like you not be caught yet?”
“Because I’m not a fish and I can evade traps,”
Mary giggled. She giggled the same way Catherine did when we first met! But I quickly shook her out of my head. There is no comparison between Aryan beauty and nature’s mistake.
“This next song is for our man Shane!” I heard a voice in the speakers. We all looked down and saw the Thrash band Fatal looking up at us. The long haired and very skinny guitarist/singer was the voice in the speakers. “His birthday was yesterday, so I want to see a huge fucking circle pit for him. Let’s move this place like it hasn’t been moved all night. Let’s go!”
I just smiled, those guys were pretty amazing. They don’t believe in White Power, but they were the Thrash lords in these parts. I could see the circle pit starting. I looked back at Mary who’s looking at me with enchanted green eyes.
“So you’re a celebrity, that’s hot,” she shook her head to move her wavy blonde hair, “Did my uncle tell you he had a single, hot niece so you called a band to make you sound cooler?”
I rolled my eyes, “You caught me. I wanted to impress you,”
“You didn’t need a band,” she gave a sultry smile.
I looked at Mary, “Want to go somewhere private?”
She just nodded. I took her warm hand and we left the high section, slipped to the backstage where the sounds of the band was growing faint. I opened the backdoor and ushered her past the drums of other bands, to the deserted parking lot that would be the band entrance. It was deserted this time.
Once when I was sure we were alone I wrapped my arms around her and our lips met, our tongues probing each other. She tasted better then she looked. My hand reached to her large breast, she started to bite my lip in anticipation. She had her arms wrapped around my neck as I had my hands in her shirt, caressing her warm body. The chill of the night was faint as I pressed against her body, taking in her warmth. By the moonlight her skin became fairer, her beauty brought out more. I took off her bra so her luscious breasts could be free. But before her bra could hit the ground, I heard a cold voice that killed the heated passion.
“Look at this. A scared, little white boy and his new bitch,” I knew that voice. Victor, the leader of a local Blood set. I turned back and could see he wasn’t alone. I have to admit it’s odd, these people don’t roll around these parts since the Alliance showed up.
“You came at the wrong time, moon cricket, Boomers doesn’t play rap anymore,” I called back. I stood in front of Mary who held my waist from behind.
“Some other homies have some beef with you,”
“I thought you people ate chicken,” Mary wandered out loud.
“Who said we were black?” I heard another familiar voice.
Victor stepped aside letting Paco and Pedro emerged. The twins were in the same outfits that we last saw them in.
“Hey Pedro, how’s your teeth?” I gloated.
Pedro started to dash at me, but Paco held him back. Paco soothed him in Spanish before looking at me. “Is that your new girl? You think you can replace my cousin with that?”
Mary withdrew her hands in disgust. “You dated a spic?”
I shook my head “Not really,” and I wasn’t lying, Catherine was only half!
“Enough talking!” barked Victor as he pulled a gun and pointed at me.
“A gun? You really have anything in a more manly size?” I grinned at him.
“Cracker I’m gonna bust all this led in your ass and in that trick’s pussy too!”
“You know when you talk it sounds like you have a piece of chicken in your mouth,”
“Bitch!” A gunshot was heard but I didn’t feel anything. I turned my head and saw Reno, one of the big security guards with his gun poised; Victor’s gun was on the ground.
“Chuck, we got a situation in the back, bring The Alliance,” he ordered on his walkie-talkie. Reno was a big man, but Chuck was even bigger.
“You’re fucked now nigger!” called Mary from behind me.
“Bitch if you didn’t have 50 white boys fucking you from behind and protecting you, I’d kill you!” yelled Victor, who is now backing up slowly.
“Victor. You have two options. Option one is you just leave and your face won’t have to be caved in, or it will,” I challenged.
Just as I said that, I can see Kenny and Tom at my side. I could even feel some of my brethren with me. A confident smile emerged on my face.
“Hey gringo! I’ll fight you. Rumble style,” said Pedro.
I eyed him up and down. “You really want to Rumble?”
“Si,” he pulled out his pocketknife.
I shrugged at him and walked up to him, “I guess that means yes,” and the circle enclosed.
Reno walked over and duct taped Pedro and I’s left hands together. He even made us shake hands to have an honorable Rumble, if there ever was one. Pedro kept his right arm raised like a cobra ready to strike, holding his pocket knife. His eyes never left me.
I stuck my right hand out to Kenny and felt nothing. I turned to Kenny and all he gave me was a blank stare.
“Dude, give me a knife,” I insisted.
“Uh… I didn’t bring one,” and we all, including the opposition, looked at him.
“You don’t have a knife?” everyone asked in unison.
“I got some cigarettes though,” he pulled out his pack, smiling.
I rubbed his head. “That’s a good boy. Kill yourself one pack at a time,”
“You’re lucky,” sighed Tom, as Kenny walked over to one of the gang bangers, “I was going to give you this as a gift besides my niece,” and he hands me a bloodstained Ka-Bar.
I took the combat knife and back at Tom, “This was my father’s Rumble knife,”
“Use it with pride, as he did,”
I nodded, “I shall. By Odin’s will,” I looked back at Pedro.
Kenny came back with a pocketknife and a big smile.
“Here, now I got one,”
“Uh, dude… Tom gave me one,”
“Damn it!” Kenny grunted and threw the knife and landed, with a thud, on a gang banger’s chest. He fell almost instantly. Kenny seemed impress with his accuracy. “If he lives tell him I said thanks for the knife!”
Reno went over the rules of the Rumble once more and ordered it to start. He stepped back and the circle started to cheer for their respective competitor. Pedro swung his pocketknife at me, as I leaned back. He also kept his distance when I pulled a feint.
“Catherine ain’t here to save you, gringo” he whispered.
I smirked, “I just was thinking the same thing Paco,”
“I’M PEDRO!” He took a cheap shot and cut my arm,
I retorted with a kick to his ribs, which made him double over and I kneed him in the face.
Pedro fell back and I jumped on him to land a hammer fist. When Pedro lost consciousness I knew I won the Rumble and cut the duct tape off. Before I was able to celebrate and get up, Paco kneed me in the side of the ribs and pulled my Ka-Bar out of my hand and put it on my throat. I could taste the silver through my skin.
“Don’t move or I’ll cut him!”
A swift kick by Mary knocked him hard and I slammed him to the garbage dumpster. He lost his balance and fell. I quickly took his arms, lifted him up and placed my boot to the back of his head.
“You got five seconds to say your last words,” I barked.
“You were never man enough for her! She loves fucking her new man, you worthless-“
I cut him off there with my own version of a curb stomp. His face smacked the concrete with a disturbing smack sound, with my heavy boot following it. I didn’t have to roll him over to know I shattered every bone in his face.
We turned to Victor, who was being held and placed on the curb, his mouth tasting it. “Mary, dear. Care to do the honors?” asked Tom and she nodded.
“Wait!” I ordered.
She stopped and blinked. “What?”
I walked over to Victor’s pocket and pulled out his red flag from his back pocket. I turned to Kenny, “Kenny, give me a lighter,”
“That I do have!” as he pulls out a Tampa Bay Rays lighter. I took the lighter and set the rag on fire. As the heat grew, I turned to Victor.
“You take pride in your gang?” and before he could respond, I shoved the burning flag into his mouth. He wiggled in pain but my comrades held him tightly.
“Now!” I gave the order. Mary nodded again and jumped on the back of Victor’s head. Crushing his skull with the burning flag in his mouth.
We all laughed, and then we saw two niggers picking up a recovering Pedro. As they all slowly walked, either badly injured or just nursing hurt pride, we stalked them, taunting them as we herd them to a vacant lot. “I have an idea,” I whispered to my comrades when we had them all cornered.
Lynching is old, but hanging is timeless, brutal body mutilation is priceless. You combine heinous acts with an impulsive torture to the brink of death; one should feel remorse for this. However, we knew what we were doing, when we beat the last two into the brick wall, but Pedro was special. We tied him upside down, with his eyes taken out and a cinder block tied to his neck, so it would break. Was it too obvious it was us? Was it too much of a calling card to mock the minorities? Yeah, it was. But in this war, remorse is for the dead.