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    Death Angel's Apocalypse
    Death Angel's Apocalypse
    Death Angel's Apocalypse
    Ebook405 pages6 hours

    Death Angel's Apocalypse

    By Raymond Towers

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    About this ebook

    Tough girls have to make tough decisions. In a world left to ruins by the corrupt ruling hierarchy, a world Without Rule Of Law, with new dangers and enemies to face every few city blocks, these tough decisions include life and death. Only the tough survive here, and these bad-ass gang girls from the Stoner Town Harpies Gang are about as tough as it gets. Rating: EXTREME controversy.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRaymond Towers
    Release dateDec 1, 2018
    ISBN9780463779149
    Death Angel's Apocalypse
    Author

    Raymond Towers

    Raymond Towers is an author of fantasy, horror and science fiction that strays away from the mainstream, plus a little in the way of true paranormal and other genres. He has written and independently published over forty titles, most of them full-length novels and collections, with several more on the way. The author has been a lifelong resident of warm and sunny southern California, a location that pops up frequently in his writing. At the moment, the author is looking for ways to reach new readers all over the world, in addition to pursuing his great love of writing and taking it to the next level.

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      Death Angel's Apocalypse - Raymond Towers

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      Death Angel’s Apocalypse

      Raymond Towers

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2018 Raymond Towers

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes: This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Content Rating: All of the characters in this e-book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, whether living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters depicted in sexual acts in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. This e-book contains an EXTREME amount of controversial subject matter.

      About the cover: The cover was created by Wombo AI.

      About this title: Tough girls have to make tough decisions. In a world left to ruins by the corrupt ruling hierarchy, a world Without Rule Of Law, with new dangers and enemies to face every few city blocks, these tough decisions include life and death. Only the tough survive here, and these bad-ass gang girls from the Stoner Town Harpies Gang are about as tough as it gets. Rating: EXTREME controversy.

      #####

      Table Of Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      Chapter 18

      Chapter 19

      About The Author

      #####

      Death Angel’s Apocalypse

      Chapter 1

      The very word 'secrecy' is repugnant in a free and open society; and we are as a people inherently and historically opposed to secret societies, to secret oaths, and to secret proceedings. - John F. Kennedy

      Every story has a beginning. Most stories, they start up from a fixed point, and they roll ahead from there. This story, it’s a lot more complicated. It started undercover, so we didn’t even know about all this shit until it crept up on us, bad enough that we had it coming from all sides. I did my research, ay. You won’t believe most of it, because it is just too out there, too crazy to believe. But they left a paper trail, along with the piles of millions and millions of dead bodies. That’s some occult Illuminati shit right there. You could say that everything started up right after World War II, when the crypto Jews and crypto Nazis in the United States began taking over the government. Then the CIA made that secret deal with Walt Disney. That’s when things really got rolling.

      That’s too far back for me. I was only born in ’95, here in Diego Town, So Cal by the U.S. border. My mom is a fourth generation chola gang-banger, who had to raise my brother and me as best she could. Rest In Peace, Topo. That was my brother’s tag. It is Spanish for Gopher, because he was always going underground to hide from the fascist, corporate pigs. He ate it in a drive by a few years ago, while he was standing in the front yard at his homies’ house and drinking beer from a bottle. I never met that man who is supposed to be my father. I guess he was from L.A., from Echo Park Lokos Gang. Who gives a shit about him?

      My name is Silvia. You don’t need to know my last name. That’s how they get you on the birth certificates, by spelling your name out in all CAPS and turning you into a fucking corporation. Let’s just leave it at Silvia or Silvie. At the beginning, they called me Angel, because I was quiet and shy when I first started hanging around with the home-girls. You know, ‘pure’ and all that shit like angels are supposed to be. They would have called me Shy Girl, except that tag was already taken. So I was known as Angel at first. When I started blasting fools, I became Angel of Death. Nowadays, my home-girls introduce me as simply Death. You should see the way fools look at me when they hear that I’m called Death. They take one look at my face and my clothes, and their fighting balls shrink away into little raisins. I didn’t always look this way. I didn’t always dress this way. Shit just happened. It is what it is.

      Anyway, I guess I should get started on this stupid story, because everybody wants me to leave a record of it, and nobody else has the patience to write it all down. I should have taken notes, because I’m sure I’m going to forget something or get things mixed up out of order somewhere down the line.

      Fuck it. Here goes.

      My name is Death, and this is how it all began for me.

      "One of the least understood strategies of the world revolution now moving rapidly toward its goal is the use of mind control as a major means of obtaining the consent of the people who will be subjects of the New World Order."
–K.M. Heaton, national educator

      I was a good girl when I was little. I listened to my teachers and I did my fucking homework. I was never tardy to class. Even as late as my sophomore year, I stayed out of trouble, mostly. I was already hanging out with my home-girls and dressing like they did. I used to tease my hair up high and act tough, but past all that I was really goofy. I look so stupid in my old pictures from back then. If some bitch tried to start a fight with me, my home-girls would swarm in on them. Like I said, they called me Angel back then. I acted tough and I talked a lot of shit, but I was a softie underneath.

      My brother got shot when I was sixteen, just as I was going into my junior year of high school. It was a crazy time for me. I was used to seeing Topo every day at my mom’s house, and suddenly I’m standing at the cemetery and watching his casket going into the ground. He was a troublemaker, yeah, but he wasn’t violent. Sometimes you have to twist the law just to survive out here, unless you bend over and let the system fuck you up the ass all the time. Most people bend over because they like that shit, because they are fucking cowards.

      I almost quit school back then, because what was the point of going when the school was only grooming you for a life of bending over? I took a week off to grieve for my brother. The people at the school only wanted to give me three days, because according to them that’s how long the grieving process lasted. I guess they’ve never seen widows in Mexico wearing black for years and years after they lose their husbands. I said fuck the school and I took the entire week off anyway.

      I kind of fucked up one day. I went into my brother’s room and I saw all of his things. Knowing he would never come back made me cry, and I left the house and went for a long walk. I wasn’t paying attention. I just kept walking, ignoring how my feet got to complain about it and how empty my stomach felt. I didn’t care if I lived or died that day, to tell you the truth. There didn’t seem to be much point in going on. When it got dark, I looked around and said, oh shit, I’m not in my neighborhood anymore. I was way down there in Chula Vista somewhere, off of Palomar Street where all the stores are. I backtracked through Chula and was halfway through National City when shit started up.

      It was, I don’t know, nine or ten at night by then. I guess I should have taken the big streets where all the lights are. At the same time, I felt more comfortable walking along the dark streets with their mostly quiet houses. I was happier in the shadows.

      This car pulled up, a beat up cruiser with wire-wheel hubcaps and two couples inside. One of the chicks leaned out the window and challenged me. She asked me what ‘hood I was from. After years of having said it at high school, the words rolled off my tongue like water.

      Stoner Town, bitch! I cried out. Dead End Gang! What’s up now?

      If I said I stood there because I was tough, it would be a lie. I stood there because I froze when I saw these two chicks jumping out of their car. I wasn’t at my high school. I didn’t have my home-girls ready to back me up. I was alone and I was too scared to run away. I didn’t know how to fight either, so I got my ass kicked.

      One bitch, she pounded my ass into the ground. I’m not going to stop until you say name, bitch! I’m Rosie from Insane Girls! Say it, bitch!

      Rosie was bigger than me, and a lot stronger. I tried not to say her name, but she kept pounding on me. I opened my mouth when I couldn’t take any more. Maybe she thought I was about to talk more shit, because she popped me a good one and I couldn’t even talk. I just curled up and covered my face until she tired out. When Rosie finally stopped, I heard the others laughing at me. They were laughing because I had started crying halfway during the beat-down.

      The other girl, she was just watching as Rosie pulled me up to my feet.

      You ain’t ready. Rosie said. You come back when you’re ready, and I’ll fuck you up again. Get out of here!

      Rosie pushed me so hard I ended up tumbling on the sidewalk and rolling into a fence. A lot of dogs were barking as the two couples got back into their car and left. I stood up, beaten, bloody, with my clothes all dirty and ripped up. I was still crying as I walked home, out of anger, humiliation and even fear that Rosie would come back to hurt me some more. After a while, I stopped crying. I just walked.

      My mother and my home-girls demanded to know who had beaten me up. I lied and said it was a girl gang, when it was really only two girls. I didn’t even remember the second girl’s face anymore. All I remembered was Rosie and her fat knuckles slamming into my head. If someone had put a gun in my hand and we’d gone out cruising for Rosie, I would have killed her.

      That’s when I started changing inside.

      My brother’s death told me that life could end at any moment. Everything you wanted to get done would never get done. You’d be gone and all of these things you wanted to do would be halfway finished, and nobody would ever come along to finish them for you. It didn’t feel right to me, that a person could be born into this world and taken out so suddenly, before their time. That’s when I decided never to waver, never to do anything half-ass. It was all the way or nothing.

      Getting my ass kicked by Rosie told me a lot of things about myself. I wasn’t a coward, not really, but I was a wimp. I didn’t know how to defend myself. I didn’t know how to punch anybody. I started play fighting with my home-girls. We would wrestle each other to the ground. I learned how to grab handfuls of hair and use my weight to bring a bitch down. I learned how to trip a bitch that was bigger than me. I mounted my girlfriends, where it didn’t matter if they had grabbed my hair or not, because I was already punching them in the face. The toughest girls showed me how to file my nails sharp, as sharp as razor blades, so I could scratch like a cat and leave blood trails everywhere.

      And then I got my chance to get revenge on Rosie.

      Hey, listen up, bitch. My friend Happy called. Her real name is Julieta, in Spanish, but she hates it so much we never use it. There’s a party going on down at the boundary between us and Nalga Town. I heard that bitch Rosie from IG is there.

      Nalga Town. That’s what we called National City. It translates as Ass Town or Butt Cheek Town, which pisses off their thugs like crazy. It’s all perspective. I know that now. They called our side Shit Town, and we’d get all Conan the Barbarian over that too.

      What you wanna do about that bitch? Happy asked.

      I want to take her down, that’s what.

      We picked up another home-girl, Mala, which translates as Bad Girl.

      Happy drove us over to the party. She parked a block and a half away. Once we did what we went there to do, we were going to run through an alley and jump into her car. If we did it right, we weren’t going to get caught.

      Mala and me walked into the house like it was nothing. Mostly it was people from Stoner Town there, like the Dukes and 36th Street. Some of them didn’t bang, but they dressed up like they did. We call that bunch the posers or the wannabes. You know, the type you can’t depend on when shit goes down, that you have to watch out for if the pigs start asking their bullshit questions.

      Looking back on that night, I fucked up by walking into the party with Mala. If I could do it over again, I would have asked her to step in first to scope things out. What happened was that Mala and me walked in from the house’s driveway, and we saw Rosie and a few others standing at the far edge of the yard. Rosie was there, laughing with her friends, when she casually scanned the yard and saw me. For a split second, we had eye contact, before I broke it off and I got on Mala’s far side. I thought, fuck, I hope that bitch didn’t recognize me, or else I wouldn’t get close enough to shank that bitch.

      With my head down and looking away, I said, Mala, keep going around the house. Let’s go in the backyard.

      There were people back there, listening to loud music and drinking beer. These were older heads from Stoner Town, people in their twenties, the next generation up from us. All the young people were up front, while the second tier was chilling in back. We went and introduced ourselves to the heads we knew, while at the same time we were casing the yard for our getaway. The people in the front yard, we couldn’t trust them, but these older thugs had been around the block a few times. They knew what’s up. They wouldn’t have ratted us out. We saw the back fence that we could jump over, and the alley right behind it. Mala and me went into the house, checking where all the rooms were.

      Check it. I said. Let’s get that bitch into one of these bedrooms. I’ll do what I came here for, and I’ll go out the window. We’ll leave through the backyard like nothing and jump the fence.

      That was the mission. Shank that bitch and get the fuck out. To get the plan rolling, Mala and me went outside again. We found the best looking thug out there.

      Hey, hey, what’s up? Mala went up to this fool. I need you to do me a favor, ay?

      What kind of favor? The thug asked.

      It’s a bedroom favor. Mala flirted. We need you to get this bitch into one of the rooms here. Don’t worry about why. Later, you and me will hook up in your bedroom.

      Rest In Peace. Cops took down that motherfucker later, after he stole a car. He was on the news and everything, with the fucking chopper chasing after him. He didn’t go out like a chump, on his knees with his hands behind his head. No, this fool went out with his gun blazing, the way a real warrior should.

      Yeah, all right. He nodded. I’ll do it.

      He did it, too. He went out to the front yard and pretended to flirt with some of the girls out there. When he got to Rosie, I guess he really turned up the charm, because that bitch came in like a puppy after his ass. He said, hey, girl, you stay in this room for a minute, while I go grab a couple of beers for us. Rosie stayed, while this fool went into the backyard and motioned at us with his head.

      Mala and me walked inside. She was supposed to stand by the door, while I went in to handle my business.

      I can’t say Rosie was surprised to see me, when I walked in and shut the door behind me. She was sitting down on a chair, facing the door. I had a flip-knife in my pocket. I can flip a knife open with only my thumb today, but back then I was pulling them open with both hands.

      Let’s go, bitch. I challenged, opening up my chest like a rooster and holding the knife out at my side. You know who I am and you know why I’m here.

      The problem is, this bitch didn’t get up and rush me like I thought she would. I didn’t want to jump on her, because maybe she would pick up that chair or maybe she had something in her pocket too. I stood there waiting for Rosie to make a move, but she didn’t make no move.

      You got the guts to use that? She asked. I don’t think you do.

      I saw her get up, and I braced myself, getting ready to stick my knife into her stomach. Rosie walked over like she didn’t give a shit.

      Ever since she’d jumped me, I had imagined that she was this huge, fat ogre with baseball mitts for fists. I saw her like, I don’t know, like a giant or something. Now that she was in the same room with me, with real lights and not out in the dark, I realized that Rosie wasn’t that much bigger than I was. She wasn’t fat, either.

      Let me tell you what Rosie looked like. She’d dyed her hair in a reddish blonde, feathered back and teased up at the top. She looked mean despite the light hair color, like a Pit Bull. She wore a shirt striped in black and gray that had her big tits sticking out of it. Her jeans were new and tight. Her body was thick, but not fat.

      Rosie knew I couldn’t stab her. That’s why she walked over and stood so close to me that our chests were touching. She stared me down, and I stared back. Then she reached over and picked my arm up. She lifted my hand so that my knife was pressed against her neck.

      Come on, then. She dared. You Stoner Town bitches ain’t shit, just like the bitches from my ‘hood. All talk and no guts.

      It made me mad to hear her talk like that. I pressed the knife closer, but the stupid knife wasn’t that sharp. I didn’t know enough back then to sharpen my shit before I tried to use it.

      Fucking Rosie, she put her arms around me and just held me like that. I was so stupid I froze again. I had gone in there ready for a fight, and here this bitch is hugging me and I didn’t know what to do about it.

      Why don’t you put your knife down? She asked. I’ve been waiting for you.

      You saw me when I walked in.

      I did, but that’s not what I’m talking about. Rosie corrected me. Do you remember what I said, when I fucked you up that night?

      You said I wasn’t ready. You told me to come back when I was ready so you could fuck me up again.

      I’ve done that same shit to a hundred little bitches before you. And you know what? None of them had the guts to come back. You’re the first one. You know what that means?

      I didn’t know what to say to that. I just knew this bitch that I’d come to shank was hugging me and I wasn’t bothered by it.

      Rosie came in close and kissed me on the cheek. She kissed me a couple more times, before she moved over to my lips. I let her.

      Put your knife away before I take it from you. She growled. If I get it, I’m going to carve my initials into your ass, because you belong to me now.

      Is that right? I asked.

      You want to find out? When I say something, I mean it, bitch.

      I folded my knife up and stuck it in my pocket.

      That’s when Mala opened the door and came in.

      Rosie went on her guard. She took a couple of steps back, away from both of us. Come on then, bitches. I’ll take on both of you.

      Mala was the same size as Rosie. With me jumping in too, I don’t think that bitch could have won. Rosie had the guts to try, though. That’s what impressed me the most. She was going to do it with her bare hands. I would have been looking for a weapon if I had two bitches coming at me.

      What’s going on? Mala asked me.

      Nothing. I said. Let’s just go. I’ve got nothing to do here.

      We turned to leave, when Rosie called out, You bitches got beer?

      We got some beer. We drove out to Southcrest park and started drinking, keeping to the dark spots where the pigs couldn’t see us.

      Hands down, Rosie was the toughest bitch I’d ever met. Even when she was drinking, she was daring Mala, Happy and me to jump her. Mala and Rosie got into a shoving match where they almost threw punches, but that was mostly over their ‘hoods and nothing personal.

      I never got officially jumped into Insane Girls. Rosie admitted, later when things mellowed out. Three of them bitches tried it once, but I drop hammers like a man. They didn’t try it again. You know what pisses me off? They respect me because they fear me. They like when I’m around because I’m tougher than they are. Without me, they fold up like a house of cards. I put in the work they can’t. I can’t respect that! If I got their backs, then who in the fuck has my back? I went to Youth Authority for six months because of fighting. None of them IG bitches ever went to YA like that. How ‘bout you bitches?

      Happy glanced at me, buzzed on alcohol but still sober enough to know we were out of Rosie’s league.

      I did two months. Mala admitted. For possession and fighting. I got out early because of good behavior. There were too many bitches in the program when I was in there.

      Fucking good behavior! Rosie started laughing, pissing Mala off.

      Mala got up and went to slap Rosie on the side of the head. Let me tell you, that bitch Mala can slap hard. This caused Rosie to start laughing even more.

      What the fuck? Happy asked. Is that bitch made out of wood or what?

      Mala looked ready to jump on Rosie, but I went over and got in the way.

      Just let her fucking be. I told Mala. Sit your ass down so I can ask this bitch something.

      Mala had respect for Rosie. I could see that already. Both of them were tough bitches. Mala wasn’t going to let Rosie talk shit on her, but she knew a warrior when she saw one. Mala went and sat down where she’d been sitting before.

      You get one free hit one me, and only one. Rosie said, drunkenly. After that, it’s on between you and me. To the fucking death, bitch.

      I can fuck you up. Mala replied.

      Maybe you can. Rosie shrugged. I’ll tell you this. I’m the hardest bitch you ever met. There is not one bitch in all of National City that can kick my ass. Oh, they might win one time out of ten, or out of twenty, but the rest of the time I own those bitches.

      Hey. I called out. How did you know I wasn’t going to shank you?

      You don’t have what it takes. Rosie revealed. She looked up at the sky for a second, but there were no stars out that night. Let me tell you something. Back when I was a little girl, my brother, all he talked about was how he was going to grow up to become a ninja. I mean a real ninja assassin like in the movies.

      The rest of us started laughing.

      He was serious about it. Rosie went on. He got my dad to buy him these little rubber stars that he could throw around, and these orange, plastic nun-chucks he could play with. When he was like thirteen or fourteen, he started asking my dad to buy him real weapons, right, like knives and swords and shit. I think I was like ten back then. My dad was always going to the swap meet to buy cheap shit, and my brother and I would tag along with him. My brother said to my dad, buy me this and buy me that. One day, my dad got pissed off, and he said, wait until we get home.

      Happy was starting to fall asleep, I noticed.

      Go sleep in the car, bitch. I told her.

      I’m all right. Happy replied.

      Rosie waited until we were paying attention to her, before she started up again. So we get home. My dad tells my brother to wait by the front porch. I thought he was going to get his ass whupped, so I went inside and watched from the screen door. I don’t know where my dad found it, but he came back with a kitten. He told my brother, hold this for a minute. Then my dad goes into the house, and he comes back out with a big-ass kitchen knife. He gives the knife to my brother and he asks, you think you’re a bad-ass? If you want to play with toys; that’s one thing. If you want to play with real weapons, that’s a whole other thing. My dad said, you take that knife and you cut that kitten’s head off, and that will show me you’ve got the balls to use a real weapon. My dad went inside and told me to get away from the door. I wanted to see what my brother would do, so I went over to the window to watch from there. After a couple of minutes, my brother crouched down and let the kitten go. Then he went to put the knife back in the kitchen. I never forgot that day.

      Rosie looked straight at me. It’s in the eyes. I saw your eyes going all over the place, because you were thinking about it too much. You were like second-guessing if you were down enough to do it or not. You might do it here, in front of your home-girls, because if you didn’t you’d look bad. But by yourself, nah, you’re not ready.

      I wasn’t ready, not then. Things changed as time went on.

      I remember one more thing about that night. Happy slept in the front of the car, while Mala lay on the back seat. I leaned on the fender, with Rosie holding me. We ended up kissing each other until the sun showed up.

      I’m going to jump around a little bit, because some of this shit isn’t that important.

      I’ll say this about Rosie. I had two boyfriends before her. The first asshole took my virginity, and then he bragged about it to the entire neighborhood the next day. Back then, things like that would hurt my feelings. He took me the right way, but he also took me the wrong way. You know what I mean. He fucking lied and said it wasn’t going to hurt, and then he did it and he told everybody.

      The second guy, I never let him get that far. I only dated him for a couple of months. He was trying to get into my pants from day one. I told him if he wanted me that bad, he was going to have to wait until I was ready. I didn’t want to go through that same shit again, where if he had a big fucking mouth everybody would be looking at me and know what we’d done. When I found out he was messing around with another girl, I just stopped talking to him and that was it.

      Rosie was different. She kissed me all the time. She held me when my last two boyfriends were always trying to rub my butt. Rosie would push me against walls and into corners, and she’d mess around with me until I let her stick her hands in my panties. After a while, it wasn’t only her doing things to me. I started doing things to her, too.

      Another thing about Rosie was that she had family connections everywhere. She had family in National City, in Spring Valley and in Langley Heights. That’s another reason she didn’t want to get jumped into a gang. If she did that, she wouldn’t be able to go into all these other neighborhoods. National City got along with Langley, but they didn’t get along with Spring Valley. My ‘hood and Langley were mortal enemies.

      At first, us girls were affiliated with the Stoner Town Dead End Boys. We weren’t in that gang, not exactly, because we were girls and all the Dead End Boys were, obviously, young men. Even worse, some of my home-girls didn’t like Rosie coming around, or her cousin Charlene from Spring Valley. That started up a rift between us home-girls. It got bad enough that we decided to make our own little separate clique. We didn’t need to jump each other in because we were already best friends and we had each other’s backs. That was Rosie, Happy, Mala, Charlene and me. The five of us were O.G., Originals in the Stoner Town Harpies Gang. Anybody that came in after us was going to have to go through an initiation against all of us at once.

      Happy’s mother had a property with two houses on it. The back house

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