The Reaper Incarnate (Reaped, #0.5)

by C.A. Rene

“Get everyone out, now. Antony’s guys just fucking showed up!” he shouts, Darius moving back from me instantly and pulling a gun out of the back of his pants, while Santos is already demanding people to fuck off out the back door. They scatter, because that fucker is one crazy son of a bitch. Half his words are coming out in Spanish, and he’s waving his own gun around like a crackhead at the local gas station. A gunshot rings out through the house, and Scarface storms in with a semi-automatic rifle and rage all over his face. Something tells me the fucker is never happy. Even if he has his dick buried in the best pussy in the world, the cunt will still glare at them. “Fuck me, this bitch is still here? Fine, fuck. Can you shoot?” he asks me, offering me a handgun without waiting for my answer. I much prefer my knife, but you don’t bring a knife to a gunfight, so it will have to do. Zander’s glaring at his friend like he’s crazy, when the actual crazy friend is jumping up and down while laughing. “Fuck yeah, all bets are off since he’s brought this shit to my house, motherfuckers,” he laughs, his eyes darting around between them all as if he needs permission to let loose. Darius glances at Scarface, who grunts, motioning to the door. “Yeah man, it’s your house. Go crazy.” Santos lets out a hyena laugh, making pew, pew noises as he darts down the hallway, causing Darius to chuckle before following him, glancing over his shoulder to wink at me. “I’ll finish this, then get bac...