In My Hood by Endy

Ishmael showed the men what he wanted done without opening his mouth and saying a word. He didn’t want his victims to know what was about to happen to them. Damon jumped up in front of Ishmael with his hand held out, letting him know he wanted to put in work, so Ishmael gave him a handful of pins and the other half to Little Cash.
    One by one the men jabbed the straight pins underneath the fingernails of the twins. One member held one chair while another held the other chair to keep it from rising off the floor.
    The duct tape did nothing to muffle the sounds of shrills and screams that came from the men. Derrick turned on the garage’s stereo system with surround-sound speakers to drown out the screams. Ishmael looked over at two of his crew members, Dice and Nate. They kept turning their heads as the pins where inserted into the twins fingers. Ishmael laughed to himself thinking how these two dudes would body a nigga in a New York minute but couldn’t watch the scene.
    As each pin was inserted, blood squirted everywhere. Ronald began to fart and defecate on himself, and each time he did this, Damon would ram another pin in him while he taunted him.
    “You punk-ass mafucka, shitting on yourself. You ain’t think about that shit when you was parlaying with Ish’s money, did you? Huh? Mmm,” he said after each pin he inserted.
    Satisfaction was written all over Ishmael’s face. Donald was in so much pain he passed out.
    “Hold up. This mafucka passed out,” Little Cash stated.
    Click, another member of the crew, cracked Donald across the face with his gun, awakening him. Click acquired his name for being known to empty an automatic weapon and keeping his finger on the trigger well after the rounds where discarded, causing the clicking noise.
    After being cold copped with the gun, Donald came to and began to scream as realization of the pain from the pins hit him again.
    Ishmael instructed the two men to pull out the pins. From the way the twins screamed, you couldn’t tell which was worst, putting the pins in or taking them out. Damon pulled out the pins in slow motion, enjoying the pain.
    Ishmael noticed that Derrick was irritated with the whole scene. He knew torture was not Derrick’s forte and that he only tolerated it to please him. With frustration settling in, Derrick pulled out his knife and stood behind Ronald. He grabbed Ronald’s forehead, pulling it back, and slit his throat. Derrick held on to Ronald’s head and allowed the blood to back up in his throat.
    Ronald began to gurgle and choke on his own blood. After his body stopped twitching, Derrick let go of Ronald’s head, and it fell forward with his chin resting on his chest.
    Everyone looked on with amazement. Ishmael shrugged and walked over to a shocked Donald.
    “Hey, Don,” he shouted to get his attention. “See you in hell, baby.”
    Ishmael then turned to Nate and Dice. “Slump his ass.” He instructed them to do what they do best.
    “After you, man,” Nate said, extending his hand.
    “No, by all means, after you,” Dice returned the courtesy.
    The two men spoke like they were English chaps.
    “Much oblige to you, my friend,” Nate said and pumped Donald in the neck with a bullet.
    Dice then completed the job by popping a bullet to Donald’s eye. Damon was laughing hard. He thought they were the funniest thing since BET
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    Ishmael and Derrick’s work was done.
    “Chop ’em up and dump ’em,” Ishmael instructed as he and Derrick left the garage.
    Ishmael was silent while Derrick drove. It was 4:30 a.m. They rode through the blocks checking with each team’s captain before moving on to the next destination.
    “So what’s up? You calling it a night or what?” Derrick inquired.
    “Yeah. Take me home, man.”
    After pulling up in front of Ishmael’s one-family home, Ishmael gave Derrick dap and hopped out of the truck. He watched Derrick round the corner, then turned and walked up his driveway. He pressed the