The Monster Gangsters Read online

The Monster Gangsters

  A short story

  Nishanth Anchan KN

  Copyright 2013 Nishanth Anchan KN

  This free ebook may be copied, distributed, reposted, reprinted and shared provided it appears in its entirety without alteration, and the reader is not charged to access it.

  Nate quickly picked up the bag of chips the woman dropped. He grinned and ran back all the way towards his excuse of a house. Just some sheets arranged in a way to look like a house. He tore open the bag and crunched down one chip. Delicious! He ravenously ate till just five chips remained. He went in and placed it on the table, his mother would have it when she came back home from her work.

  Nate lived with his mother. They were just two more poor people living in the unfortunate quarter of the city, which housed hundreds like them. Nate’s mother worked in a chemical factory for money that couldn’t even buy half a bag of chips. While Nate was a petty thief.

  He hated what he did. But still, his tummy won at the end. In no time his hand dipped into a man’s pocket, swiftly the wallet would come out. He would then quickly pass the wallet to his friend Jaz. She would empty the contents into the bag stitched neatly into her ragged blue dress, then either dump the empty wallet in the trash can or pass it back to Nate, so that he could put the wallet back in its place minus the cash.

  Nate mostly prowled the dirty, smelly, crowded area of his neighbourhood for food dropped by people, as it did not happen a lot, he was forced to steal. Jaz and Nate worked as a team; and they were the best when it came to men’s wallets. Sometimes they made a fortune that could have lasted an eternity. But no. Never was anyone in the poor district allowed to keep what they had.

  You see, they were almost ruled by gangsters (damn the government!) And these vile tattooed humans came around to each shack seven times a week, sometimes nine. Beggars ask of you to give them just a percent of your stuff. But gangsters ask you just ninety nine percent of your stuff. You gave it to them or you got shot on spot, or worse, taken away to help taste test the new drugs.

  On this particular day, Nate hadn’t begun his job as he had found the bag of chips so early in the morning. But he eventually came back to the crowd, he had to get stuff to eat for the noon and night. He met Jaz in their usual spot. She wore the same ragged blue dress, ready to work.

  Jaz, or Jasmine, was another poor girl who lived with her younger brother. Their parents had been killed in a crossfire between rival gangs which took place when Jaz was just seven. She too, had succumbed to hunger and had resorted to thievery. She was a beautiful girl, but she always smeared a bit of charcoal or mud onto her face in an attempt to hide her beauty, because beautiful girls had no place on the streets while there were gangsters around. Nate and Jaz’s path crossed, they quickly became the best of the friends. Partners, the locals called the duo.

  She looked gloomy. Nate questioned her, “What’s wrong, Jaz? Rex took your breakfast away?” Rex was the local bully, who was a budding ‘talent’ in the local gang ‘Cannans’

  “No, Natey. I had my breakfast. It’s the news,” was her reply.

  “What’s the news?” Nate asked her. He knew that she was the only girl around who knew everything that went on in the locality.

  “Didn’t Larry tell you? He didn’t? Okay, I’ll tell you. Which one? The good or the bad?” she said, forcing a grin.

  “The good one, I guess” replied Nate, grinning back.

  “The Cannans have allied with The Kreechas. And they’ve given over the control of our hood to them. So- by noon this place’ll be swarming with those new fools. That’s the news,” she sat down and started drawing on the ground using a stick, and then grabbed a handful of dust and smeared it onto her left cheek, “I guess you’ll get the good and bad by yourself.”

  And Nate got it. The Kreechas were feared for their ruthlessness. They even popped the heads of the city’s high ranking cops and got away with it. Nobody knew how. The good news was that they took just half your earnings (since the big boys were already rich). The bad news- They did not show as much mercy as the Cannans had shown. Nate had once been into a Kreechas controlled area and saw the gangsters killing people for just bumping into them. Bang! Nobody cared. The family of the deceased dragged the body away, screaming bloody hell. Mostly to be silenced by another irritated Kreecha gangster.

  Nate gulped. He was accustomed to running around the hood bumping into almost all kind of people. The Cannans just screamed foul words which he didn’t give a damn about. But now, he imagined himself bumping into a burly gangster and getting his head blown the next second. Whoa! That would be bad.

  They successfully picked three men. Bad luck. All three were poor. Then they tried a rich-looking woman at the footwear shop. It was hard; they nearly had her when the shopkeeper started glaring at them. He knew them as thieves, but did not appreciate them doing their dirty business in his shop. The duo withdrew and tried to fill their stomachs with the little cash from the first three picks.

  As Jaz had predicted, the hood was filled with Kreechas by the evening. They were nothing like the Cannans. The Cannans looked like circus freaks when they stood beside The Kreechas. While the Cannans wore coloured shirts, the Kreechas wore expensive hoodies and stylish tank tops, mostly tank tops. Their pants were not tattered like The Cannans. Every Kreecha had an automatic on him tucked at his side. They spoke less. Mostly took a spot and stood there for ages while The Cannans had always wandered aimlessly through the throng, shouting and screaming insults.

  And the most significant thing about The Kreechas were their names and tattoos. Every Kreecha (you might have guessed, Creature) had a name of an animal, insect, fish or a paranormal being. And they had the picture tattooed on their shoulder or neck. There was the ‘Bull’, a giant of a man with a fierce Bull tattooed on his right shoulder. There was the ‘Eel’ whose long left hand was dominated by a blue Eel. There were more, Tiger, Lion, Shark, Vampire, Eagle, Chameleon and many, many more. And most of the creatures had the ability to cause death. So did The Kreechas.

  There was no violence that day, since The Kreechas tried to be ‘friendly’ and were trying to adjust themselves to the new territory. But the next day, it began. four customers were shot, nobody cared. Two shopkeepers were shot, one of which was the man in the footwear store. Nate felt sad, he knew him for many years, and cried for a while along with Jaz, but then pulled himself together and moved on for another victim to pick.

  Months passed by like the wind. The killing had reduced. The people feared The Kreechas. So they avoided disturbing them at all costs. From 20 kills a week, it was reduced to 1 or 2. Many people Nate knew were killed. But he got used to it.

  Of all the Kreechas out there, the one that spooked out Nate was the ‘Spider’, a thin, wiry haired guy who always wore a white tank and black jeans. Pale complexion, untended beard and mustache. Perfect Black eyes. Long arms and legs. Totally a Spider. People said that he might be the poorest member of The Kreechas, since he was found eating even the worst of the foods with the locals. He acted friendly, raised his gun only if people insulted him. He spoke less, most of his sentences were confined to a limit of a dozen words.. He stared at people like he was doing a mental X-Ray scan. Just like how the Spider stays still for ages.

  Nate was afraid of Spiders at the first place, he loathed them more than he loathed God for giving him such a wretched life. He would scream like a girl if he saw a Spider in his house; and either his mother or Jaz had to dispose of it to get him to stop running away from the shack. He hated those eight legs and those many eyes (he never counted how many) and the way they move. Still like a statue one moment, agile as the light the next. Now since this guy had all the style of a Spider. Nate was spooked. He t
ried to stay as far away from him as possible.

  And now, Nate was walking along with Jaz, who had suddenly grown up to be a beautiful (hot, they said) girl in a few months, curves and all, even the dust and charcoal couldn’t mask her beauty. Nate disliked the way the gangsters looked at her. He was always afraid that someone might just drag her away to their den.

  “Boy?” a rough voice called out softly. Soft yet audible. Nate knew the source even before he looked to his right. And to his right stood the ‘Spider’, smoking a cigarette, standing with his back to a streetlight pole.

  “Yes?” Nate managed. He could have run, but he knew better than try to get on the Kreechas’ wrong side.

  “What’s yo name?” the gangster questioned, he threw the cigarette butt into the sewer opening nearby.

  “Nate,” the boy croaked.

  “What’s her name?” the guy questioned, lighting another cigarette. He’s gonna die of lung cancer before we finish this conversation, thought Nate.

  “Jasmine. You can call me Jaz,” said Jaz brightly. Nate felt bad, seeing her so eager to talk to the gangster. He looked at the large Spider tattooed onto his shoulder, which stretched as far as his cheek and shuddered.

  The