Beast (One Shot)
The origin story.
“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”
― Heraclitus
“I’ve tried to be patient with you, Mr. Bourgeois, I really have. I don’t take too kindly to the disrespect you shown me, my crew. You have to understand that yo’ store is located on my side of the city and everythin’ on this side of the city belongs to me now.” He held the gun close to body as if it was attached to him.
Mr. Bourgeois said nothing as he stared at the man before him. He wasn’t afraid. Not for him, but for his family. He was a prideful one, and just as his former partner Mr. Gage didn’t take to disrespect nor did he. He wasn’t afraid to die for something he stood for and he raised his sons to do the same. Mr. Bourgeois’ eyes stayed focused on Mr. Gage’s. Leroy, the twins’ father, looked at his best friend who held the gun to his temple. He couldn’t believe his friend would pull something like this.
He trusted him.
Fully.
But this was his plan along. To take what their father built and make it his own.
“This is my store, Percy. I have put everything I had into this place. I’m not going to let you or anybody else tell me that something I have worked for does not belong to me.”
“I know, Leroy, I helped you build it from the ground up. I worked my hands to the bone for you, and you left me in the dust! I did all yo’ dirty work. The blood that was supposed to be on yo’ hands is stainin’ mine!” Mr. Gage aimed the gun he cradled and fired two shots into Mr. Bourgeois’ leg.
Groaning in pain he grabbed his leg applying pressure to his new wound. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something or better yet someone. His son only sixteen peered through the soda aisle out into the scene in front of him.
He could see something in his eyes, something he’d never witnessed from him.
Rage.
Laurent had always been quick tempered curtesy of his father, but something was different about him. Something was off, like a branch snapping out of place, his father could see the change in him—his demeanor. Mr. Bourgeois could see the wheels turning inside his son’s young mind.
Mr. Bourgeois shook his head as if saying no to whatever Laurent was thinking. If something were to happen to him, fine, but not his sons. He couldn’t and wouldn’t risk their lives. Not to some unloyal piece of shot like Percy. His son’s face softened and Mr. Bourgeois’ sighed hoping he’d ended whatever plan he had.
“Retire from the game and turn over everythin’ to me and I’ll let you live,” Mr. Gage said.
“I ain’t givin’ you shit!” Mr. Bourgeois objected.
Mr. Gage’s trigger finger was quick as he allowed the rest of his clip to fill Mr. Bourgeois.
There his father lay in a pool of his own blood inside the store he built. Mr. Gage stood there pleased with his work.
“Burn this place down. Call me when it’s done.”
The young man gave the place one last look, this was the place he was raised, played and worked. It was gone and so was his father. It was only he and his brother now and he promised to look after him. Smoke filled the room and he knew if he didn’t get out soon he would be reunited with his father. He glanced at his papa one last time not knowing the image of him would be eternally etched into his mind.
The cold New Orleans air greeted him like a blanket he didn’t need. He wasn’t ready to face his mother and brother yet. He needed time to think. Plan his next move. The Laurent he once was gone, left in ashes as his family place was. He knew there was no going back, and he knew home wasn’t the place for him. Not now. He knew his brother could give their mother the comfort he couldn’t. Not now. ******
I sat up, throwing the covers off me. Nightmares and cold sweats were something I was becoming accustomed to. Wiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, I tossed the nightmare to the back of my mind, pushed myself off of the old run down couch, that was now my bed, and went into the bathroom.
Cold air seeped into the old, abandoned studio apartment I squatted in for the time being. The building I was in was soon to be demolished at the of this month, so I didn’t have much time to do what I needed to do. I knew the police were out scouring the streets for me, and this was the last place I knew they would look. They needed me to testify. I wasn’t going. I knew whatever I did wasn’t going to put Percy Gage behind bars.
I had nowhere else to go and no one to depend on, well I did, but I wasn’t in the mood of keeping company. I trusted no one. For all I knew my boys could have been in on the grocery store hit. Yeah, that’s what they were calling it on the news—the grocery store hit. They knew who ordered the hit, so why did they need me to testify? I scoffed. Percy Gage, was now one of the most powerful men in New Orleans now following my father’s death. I wasn’t no dummy. I knew they needed me to come out of hiding, and that wasn’t something I was about to do. Not until I was ready.
Nobody gave a shit about what happened to my papa. Fuckin’ police wouldn’t even make an arrest. Percy ran this town and everybody knew it. Turning the knob on the sink, the old, creaky pipes rattled and groaned before producing brown water. I shut it off silencing the room. That was the only thing that comforted me now. Silence. That was all I heard until I laid down to sleep, and only then were the screams that haunted me.
I had nothing.
I was nothing.
I was reduced to nothing, but an old dilapidated building that held nothing, but an old, moldy couch where I took refuge. Dirty, brown walls surrounded me keeping me in and my enemies out.
Did my enemies know they were my enemies?
I didn’t know and I didn’t care, because tonight, they would feel my presence and my wrath. The view from my window was a dimly lit alley unoccupied as its usual occupants gone, like they knew what was about to happen. Needles, empty bottles, and broken glass vials littered the alleyway. The streetlight flickered and buzzed as if it was fighting to stay lit.
Old flat tires lay against the broken down fence that rattled every time the wind blew. The smell of death and piss violated my nose and alerted my senses.
In the far distance lay a backdrop of the city’s lights glowing proudly against the night sky. Its beauty was unmatched even by the gritty streets filled with crime—my city, New Orleans—was known as the city of cuisine, music and festivals, but I could only see it as the city of pain, despair and hopelessness.
The cold air that forced its way into the cracks of the old windowsill encased me, but I felt nothing. Was it because I was now cold inside, and my outside now matched my insides? I didn’t care for anyone or anything else and I didn’t see myself ever doing so again. My heart went with my papa and that’s where it would stay. I was never going to get attached to another person as long as I filled my lungs with air.
My mother and brother were all I had left.
Or did I?
I was done with family.
I was afraid that if my mother and brother crossed me in a way I didn’t like, they too, would suffer. I couldn’t have that on my conscious. I didn’t want them to see me like this. Not this new person I’ve become. Even I was afraid of the thing that deep inside me. The thing that wanted to come out and present itself as the new Laurent. I was conflicted. I didn’t know whether to keep my newfound identity suppressed or to let it out. It almost hurt to keep it inside. I was fighting with myself to stop the change, but as they say change is inevitable, and I knew it was only a matter of time. Why not embrace the inevitable? I wasn’t ready to lose myself just yet.
The small roached that was in the crystal ashtray was now between my lips. I struck the last of my matches and lit the tip. Inhaling I allowed the effects of the marijuana to calm me of my current state of anger, and to numb me of all the bad thoughts that crept to the forefront of my mind. I hoped the small blunt would keep me grounded until it was time.
I don’t know if I or Percy Gage realized that with every pull of his trigger, it aged me. I wasn’t the normal sixteen year old who’s Friday nights consisted of parties, picking up girls and the illegal partaking of booze. Nah, I wasn't that kid anymore. My innocence was gone with no signs of returning. I didn’t even go by Laurent anymore.
I was just Beast.
Beast.
I took one last pull of the blunt before retiring it back to the crystal ashtray. I was relaxed, calm and collected. I walked back over to couch and opened my backpack. I slid the black hoodie over my head and laced up my boots. The shiny, black metal at the bottom of my bag caught my attention. I reached in and pulled it out. It belonged to my papa, one of the many things I took from his old office.
The cool metal felt good against my hot palms. I felt my arm rise and aim at a wall. I couldn't resist the twitch that caused my finger to squeeze the trigger. The barely audible clicks of the gun sounded as I imagined holes burrowed deep into the filthy wall. I saw Percy and his men faces in the wall as I riddled it with pretend bullets.
I looked at the weapon. Still up from both my cannabis and gun high, I felt powerful, untouchable and it was then I knew I was no longer Laurent and things would never be the same. I placed the loaded clip into the handle of the gun and tucked it into the pocket of my hoodie, just as my phone rang.
I hit the answer button.
“Yeah?” I spoke into the phone.
“It’s time.”
That was all I needed to hear. After hanging up the phone I placed it onto the floor. My boots met with the phone over and over until I felt that was enough. I no longer wanted to be found or contacted.
Laurent was now dead.
It was Beast’s turn to rise.
Placing the bag onto my back, I went out into the night. I placed the hood over my head as I walked through the streets, concealing my identity from the world. As I walked closer and closer to my destination, everything seemed to slow down.
I was ready.
Percy Gage didn’t know what was about to hit him. I had information on where he would be on this particular night. The New Orleans Police Department was holding their annual fundraiser in the French Quarter at Hotel Monteleone.
The guest of honor was Percy Gage.
And the surprise guest was me.
Percy was well known for giving the NOPD millions of dollars every year. That was no secret. Our papa believed to protect both his and Percy’s operation, but little did he know Percy was only trying to cover his tail. This was his way of making sure everyone knew that NOPD was in his pocket and that he was the one that truly ruled.
New Orleans’s wealthiest crowded the sidewalk in front of Hotel Monteleone. Camera bulbs, flashed furiously on the fancily dressed people. I knew it was best to stay out of sight. I could feel someone’s eyes focused on me as I stared out into the crowd across the street.
I leaned against a light pole and searched for him in the sea of people. A black Lincoln town car pulled up to the curb and I knew he was inside. My gloved hands found themselves inside my pockets once again. If I was going to do this I knew I needed to be quick. Still, I could feel someone watching my every move.
Percy made his appearance.
I watched as he walked towards the entrance of Hotel Monteleone, the crowd fawned over him like he was a good guy. Made me sick to my stomach. I gripped my gun tighter. Not now. I had to be smart although my anger was getting the best of me. My eyes roamed to those that surrounded him, protecting him. That’s when I saw the eyes that were directly on me. He stood across the street his demeanor same as mine as he kept himself hidden from the busy bodies.
He headed towards me.
Muthafucka was going to blow my cover. I pushed myself off the light pole and started down the street as quickly and non-suspiciously as I could.
I ducked into an alley only to be trapped by a dead end.
“Shit!”
I held onto the gun ready to shoot my way out if necessary. I could hear his footsteps growing closer. I took a deep breath in and released it as he rounded the corner.
“Laurent Bourgeois,” he said, walking further into the alley his hands buried into the pockets of his jean. “I know what you came to do. I saw the outline of yo’ gun from across the street. Stupide! Do you know how many policemen and plainclothes he has staking out the place? Do you know many goons are out there ready to die for him?”
“Fuck you.”
He smirked. My words didn’t even penetrate his calm manner. “Sois calme, Lau.”
“Why should I listen to you?” I asked.
“Because you and I aren’t so different, Laurent—“
“Beast.”
“Excuse moi?”
“My name is Beast. Laurent is dead.”
There was that smirk again. “Well, Beast, you and I both want the same thing and that’s Percy dead.” He reached into his pocket.
My gun was now aimed at him. “Relax, Beast, it’s just a piece of gum,” he said, revealing the small white package to me.
“Why the fuck should I trust you?”
“Because I’m yo’ brother. Yo’ blood. I love and care about yo’ ass even though you abandoned me and maman when we needed you. Where were you? We thought you were dead,” Larry said.
“I needed time to think. I needed time alone.”
“You coulda called and let us know you were ok. We want you to come home, mon frère,” Larry said, taking a step closer to Laurent. He took a step back. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“I-i-i can’t come home, Larry. I can’t see maman like that.”
“She needs you. I’ve been with her since it happened. I’ve had to watch her suffer, because not only does she think she’s lost her husband, but a son as well. We know you were at the store that day. Come home. She’ll be happy to see you.”
“Not yet.”
“Then when?” his voice demanded. “When are you comin’ home? You’d rather stay out in the streets waiting for an opportunity to kill Percy. You can’t do it alone. Let me help you. Come home, eat, shower and rest. You look like you haven’t slept in years. Let me help you, mon frère.”
“No. I don’t need your help.” I put my gun into my pocket and brushed past my brother.
He grabbed me and pushed me against the cold brick wall. I lost my balance and fell onto the ground. The gun fell out of my pocket. I left it there. He stood over me anger in his eyes.
“I don’t give a fuck about what you want, Lau, just as you didn’t give a fuck about what we wanted. You basically said fuck us and left. Now, I said you coming home. Pick ya’ ass up and come on.” He took the gun that was now at my side and slipped it inside his jacket. I’m not leavin’ you. We was born together and if God have it we gone die together.”
I loved my brother and I knew he loved me too, but I wasn't ready to face my maman. I wasn’t ready to see her broken. My brother hid his pain well and I knew he felt the same as I did. I didn’t want to put him in any danger. I didn’t want to attach myself to my family, because I didn’t want them to face the consequences of my actions, but that was already hard in itself as my brother walked around with the same face as mine. He held out his hand for mine. I took it. He didn’t let go. He pulled me into a hug, holding me tightly.
“I love you, Lau, but if you do some shit like that again I’ll kill you myself. You hear me?”
“I hear you,” I said.
“We gone get this muthafucka together. I promise.”
