The Gift of Volkeye by Marque Strickland, Wrinklegus PoisonTongue

him up against a tree. Nhad groaned and spat up blood, his feet dangling in the air. Phyllamon got so close to him that their noses were almost touching.
    “I’m only going to say this once…well, I’ll only need to say it once, because you’ll be dead in a moment…but if my son asks for your bike…”
    Nhad coughed once more, showering Phyllamon in blood. However, Phyllamon continued talking as if nothing had happened. His unibrow arched upward at both ends.
    “…then you goddamn well give it to him!”
    “But…it…wasn’t…hiiiiiiiis,” Nhad choked out, gagging from the Cyclops’s tight grip.
    “It doesn’t matter. Anything that belongs to anyone around here belongs to me! Therefore it belongs to my son!”
    Nhad tried to speak, but he was too weak. Phyllamon continued. He pressed his face against Nhad’s like he was tempted to bite him.
    “I don’t care if you consider me unjust, boy. Money is power, and because I have so much of it, the authorities around these parts can be bought. In fact, the man who controls it all is personal friend of mine. So you see, lad, there is no right or wrong for people like me! I do as I please, and all of you are dogs to do my bidding. Do you understand?”
    Nhad was aghast at the horrific soliloquy. Never before now could he even fathom the existence of such a person. He was quite relieved when Phyllamon stepped away from him. Now his only wish was for Mother Nature to hastily take him, so that he could maintain some of his dignity.
    Please hurry, he prayed.
    “Son, I believe it’s time for him to learn his lesson,” Phyllamon said.
    Felix, smiling wide, was quite elated with Nhad’s torture. As he walked over to him, their eyes met.
    “Toldja’ you were gonna get it, you stingy shit!” Felix smiled.
    He pulled a large handgun from the holster of the beast with bad teeth, and looked to his father in a questioning manner.
    “How does it work?”
    “See the lever on the side? …Pull it up.”
    Felix did so.
    “Now, do you see how that red light is glowing?”
    “Yes.”
    “That means that the safety is off. Now you can fire…but stand back at bit, so that you don’t get dirty.”
    “Where should I shoot?”
    “Anywhere you want. This is your show—have fun!”
    Through his weak, fluttering eyelids, Nhad could see a large crowd of people coming towards the flaming spectacle. They’d heard the explosion. Good. He knew now that word would get to Bahzee.
    Get away, Baz.
    This was the last thought to cross his mind before dying, whilst dangling in the air.
    Felix noticed that Nhad’s head had gone limp, refusing him what he wanted once again. The stingy bastard had died, but still bested him, expiring before he could do his vicious part.
    “Waaahhhh!” Felix wailed, resorting to one of his juvenile fits for the second time that day. He raised the gun and fired until the clip was empty. When the bullets were gone, he laid on the ground, kicking and screaming…again.
    **
    Word had gotten to Asha quickly. After her first experience with Phyllamon, she knew to not take chances with her daughter’s life. She hastily packed up their necessities and set out a few plastic gasoline jugs with shotgun shells taped to the sides. Once outdoors, she tossed a grenade through the window and didn’t even wait to see the explosion before disappearing into the deep of the forest with her daughter.
    They fled Mashyuvah.
    3
    “You understand? You can’t…you’ll bring hell upon us.”
    Though she was still fantasizing about a slow torture for both Phyllamon and Felix, Bahzee nodded.
    “I hate them, too, and I would die fighting if necessary, but…only if it came to that.”
    It took a moment for Bahzee to stop scowling, but soon enough she cracked a smile. All serious matters aside, she and Khyeryn turned to the stove, licking their lips as they opened the oven door to see if the bread was done. They inhaled with bliss.
    Ahhhhhhh!
    Bahzee put on some mitts and pulled