Chapter 3 - As a gang leader
1716 Words
He woke up and sighed and the sound of a low rumble escaped his lips.
The air around him was thick with the smell of sweat, metal, and something acrid that scratched the back of his throat.
He yawned, stretching out his arms and feeling the unfamiliar muscles in this new body twitch beneath his skin.
As he blinked away the disorientation, fragmented memories returned to the edges of his mind. He remembered being tossed about like a rag doll, palms into weapons aimed at his face until breath slipped away and darkness had taken him.
And then he remembered his failures, his weakness, his losses and his heartbreak. And lastly, there was that voice, metallic and unyielding—a robot, perhaps?—telling him he had a chance at another life.
“Am I alive?” he said it out.
He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and looked around. The prison yard stretched out before him, filled with the low murmur of dozens of inmates dressed in bright yellow jumpsuits, all indistinguishable from one another.
Some men were lifting weights, their muscles rippling with effort, while others jogged in circles, a few tossing a ragged basketball between them. The clanking of weights mixed with bursts of laughter and the occasional shout as a game got heated.
“How did I get here?” he muttered to himself.
He scanned the yard for familiar faces but found only the hard stares of men who seemed to be sizing him up. They moved in clusters, forming pockets of camaraderie amidst the chaos, their voices blending into an unintelligible hum.
In the upper tier, guards sauntered along the catwalk, their dark uniforms contrasting sharply with the bright yellow below. One of them stood with his arms crossed, eyes scanning the yard like a hawk, ensuring nothing went awry.
His stomach twisted as he took in the sight of the men looming around him, faces lined with tattoos and hardened by the weight of their experiences. This was not his world, yet now it felt like he was woven into its fabric.
“Who am I?” he asked himself and this time he knew it wasn't his voice, nor his body.
With a collective turn, the men around him shifted their gazes, amusement flickering in their eyes. One stepped forward, a burly figure with tattoos snaking up his arms like vines.
“Boss,” he said with a smirk, face lighting up with recognition, “you are Orton ‘The Big Axe’! Our 001.”
The crew around him acknowledged the proclamation, placing their hands over their hearts in unison.
“Whenever you ask that, someone is about to die. Who is it going to be?” the tattooed guy asked.
“Is that what it is? Is that who I am?” He asked himself.
“The Big Axe?” he murmured, testing the name. Did it belong to him?
He checked out his arms, tattooed and muscular. He was baffled, feeling like puppet strings, invisible yet tight, bound around his consciousness, pulling him into a role he couldn’t grasp.
“Who is dying, boss?” he asked again. “Just give a name. That is who you are. That is who we follow. Here in Pykes Penitentiary, you're the final boss,” he raised his hands.
As those words sunk in, unease prickled at the back of his mind. A life of crime, of violence, where shadows lurked in every corner. This wasn’t just a new life; it was a sentence, an existence bound by the iron bars of fate. How was he going to see Pamela?
Leonard rushed to the restroom.
He could see that the body he was in had a reputation among the inmates as a fearless leader, a man not to be messed with and they bowed as he walked by.
He needed a mirror. He wanted to see what he looked like and he found one in the restroom. He hurried and gasped at the sight before him.
His bald head gleamed under the harsh fluorescent lights, the only hair on his head being a stark white goatee that seemed to defy the years of violence etched onto his face.
Tattoos covered his arms and neck, symbols of his allegiance to his gang. As he reached the mirror, his dark eyes met his own gaze, and for a moment, he allowed himself to take in the image of the man he had become.
“Oh my!” he wondered how Pamela was going to recognize him.
Suddenly, there was a cranking sound in his head and he held his temple. It was as though his head was a mechanical entity under some unseen control.
After the crank, the robotic voice came to him again.
“LEONARDO ST CHADWICK. WELCOME TO YOUR FIRST MISSION.”
“Oh, thank goodness. You put me in a prison yard. How can I see my daughter? How can I have my revenge?”
“YOU NEED TO KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND ONCE YOU DO, YOU'LL KNOW HOW. YOU'RE IN RANDY MOORE'S ‘THE BIG AXE’S BODY. THE PRISON'S 001. THE BODY IS PICKED AS IT IS IN POSITION FOR THE MISSION.”
“What position, what mission?” After the question, Leonard felt an infilling going on in his head. He became aware of his location, strength and access.
As though he was having a replay in his head. It all came in a flash and became part of him. His life before prison — a drug dealer and downtown thug. Having killed more than 15 men.
His life inside the Pyke penitentiary — drug dealer and top dog. Having killed 5 men.
He had access to the gate and could send packages in and out of it. He could send a trusted member of his gang out to deliver, and he also has ears and eyes outside.
Amid his memory as Randy ‘The Big Axe’, he still realized that he retained his memories as Leonardo St Chadwick. He was an embodiment of two — two memories, same mind.
“NOW YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE. BUT SOMETHING YOU DON'T KNOW IS THAT BOTH OF YOU, LEANDRO AND RANDY ARE DEAD. RANDY IS POISONED AND THAT IS WHY YOU CAN LIVE IN HIS BODY.”
“What?”
“NOW THAT YOU HAVE BEEN REBORNED IN HERE. YOU ARE HIM. THIS MEANS YOU CAN BE KILLED AND YOU HAVE YOUR LIFE IN YOUR HANDS. DIE AT THE MERCY OF YOUR HOPES.”
“What do you mean?”
“IF YOU DIE DURING YOUR MISSIONS, YOU'RE DEAD FOREVER. BUT IF YOU COMPLETE THE TWO MISSIONS IN A SHADE, YOU HAVE AN ADDITIONAL BAR.”
Feeling his grasp of power, he asked. “What is the mission?”
YOU HAVE ENJOYED YOUR THUG LIFE. BUT YOU DESPISE WOMEN AND CHILDREN TRAFFICKING. YOU WILL BE CONTACTED SOON, TO SIGN A DEAL INVOLVING USING URCHINS TO MOVE DRUGS. TAKE THE DEAL, GO OUT AS YOU NORMALLY DO, END THE DEAL AND SAVE THE KIDS.”
Leonard nodded. That was the exact thing that Jamie Doss, the man who took his wife and daughter was into. He could see how it all was woven together.
“Interesting,” he acceded.
“ONCE THE MISSION IS COMPLETE, YOU WILL BE TOLD WHAT TO DO NEXT. REMEMBER, YOUR LIFE IS IN YOUR HANDS. YOU DIE NOW, YOU FORFEIT YOUR CHANCES OF SEEING PAMELA AGAIN. AND WHAT YOU FEAR THE MOST WILL BE HER INESCAPABLE END.”
The voice drew out and Leandro nodded.
(Onwards, Leandro will be regarded as Randy ‘The Big Axe’)
Suddenly, two men entered the restroom, their faces set in grim focus as they brandished their daggers. "Hey, Axe, we are from Luka Lou. You survived the poison, you won't survive this," one of them declared coldly.
Randy's hand twitched towards the axe hidden in his waistband, but before he could make a move, two of his loyal men burst in and swiftly ended the threat with axes at the back of the men that threatened him.
Their bodies landed on the floor.
"Why are you here alone, boss?" one of his men asked, concern evident in his eyes as he looked at Randy.
"Well, you have a call," the other man said, offering him a cell phone.
Randy took the phone and raised it to his ear. "Who is this?" he demanded, looking into the faces of the men who had saved his life.
As he looked at them, he was reminded of what they had done together. They were his loyal thugs, his henchman and his eyes and ears.
The voice on the other end was low and gravelly, unmistakably belonging to one Councilman Tate, his distro. "I'm afraid I have a job for you, Big Axe. You see, there's a deal I want us to pull. It will be the biggest drug I have moved and the biggest partnership for me, and you."
“Hit me up,” Randy said and paced around.
“There's this big corporate thug named Jamie Doss. A billionaire by day and a drug Baron by night…”
At the mention of the name, Randy felt anger in him but at the same time he was glad. Finally, he would be directly linked with Jamie Doss, not as Leonard the weakling, but as a partner.
“He wants to move some drugs. He will use the cheapest means: women and kids, maids, slaves, and urchins. All you have to do is meet him and show him you have buyers that are ready to consume.”
“That's not a problem, man,” he replied.
“But this time, you have to step out yourself. Not Robin or Piper. He needs to meet you in person,” Councilman Tate explained.
"Consider it done," he said, cutting the call off abruptly and handed the phone to Robin.
“Deal, just like that?” Robin asked.
“Yes, Robin. We need the deal,” Randy said and walked out. As he went. He smirked. He would be meeting Jamie Doss, the man who took his wife, daughter, and life.
“I'm coming for you, Jamie Doss. I'mma find you, Pamela.”
- Writer
