Harlem, New York
Tuesday, December 8
Omniscient
They call her Lucifer for anyone that's asking. But anyone that wants a challenge or just wants a death wish, they call her Devil. She liked Lucifer better.
Lucifer was one bad ass bitch and would cut your fucking head off with the quickness if she felt disrespected. She wouldn't even give you a chance to explain yourself. When she shoots, she doesn't miss and her power in the streets brought her respect and props. She hated pigs; especially the crooked ones.
"They're double-crossers to their own kind, not to be trusted," She would say.
To her, nobody was to be trusted, not after everything that happened in her life. Her mother and father were real close—she thought—until one night, her mom killed her dad, strangling him to death. Her own mother was about to kill her until the police snatched her away. A medium-sized gash on her neck served as evidence of the encounter.
After, she was a ward of the state but she had to grow up fast. Her first foster father tried to do unspeakable things to her. Long story short, she killed him. She was on probation for two years since it was 'self-defense'. They still wanted to monitor her though. Once she turned eighteen, Lucifer started making a name for herself, by herself.
Now, she lived in this big, modern mansion with seven cars parked in the long driveway, all belonging to her. The house was in her real name and so were all the cars but no one knew who that was so Lucifer was really a stranger in her own home.
"Y'all are taking too fucking long! My game is on!" Lucifer screamed over the second-floor balcony.
Two henchmen that she had carrying her women were struggling and she was getting pissed off. A pissed off Lucifer wasn't good, ever.
The men sat the women down on their feet and Lucifer paused the game on her TV, which covered the entire wall, making her way down to the first floor. Her red mink coat draped around her shoulders comfortably. She had a sexy smirk on her face that brightened the entire room.
"Where are they from?"
"One is from Trinidad, Two is from the DR, and Three is just from Cali."
"Don't sleep, I like Cali."
Everybody in the room laughed nervously except Lucifer.
She stood in front of One, who was covering her naked body with her hands. "What the fuck are you scared of?"
"You," Her thick Trinidadian accent made Lucifer's body warm up.
"Why? I haven't done shit to you yet."
"Yet," She repeated.
Lucifer made her way to Two, who was more than comfortable showcasing her beautiful breasts and bald pussy. "What's your name?"
"Cyn."
"Like Sin City?"
"Like Cynthia," Her accent was even sexier, every syllable flirting with Lucifer.
She moved on.
"Name."
"Why?"
"Don't be a bitter bitch, especially not to me. I didn't fucking sell you, your parents did," She shot Three down quickly, her sharp tongue making everyone gasp. "Now what's your name?"
"Lauren."
"Pretty."
She moved back, looking over all of them. "You bitches look like triplets from different places, that's wild," She pulled out her gun and shot the two men right between their eyes. Her aim was impeccable. The three women screamed and covered their mouths. "Don't fuckin' cry! It pisses me off! Just follow!"
