BLACK*HONEY 6: V. Stiviano; SUPER GIRL

BLACK*HONEY 6
GODDESS V: Super Girl!

By Dennis Osondu
for Dark Realm Novels Ink©2014

(BLACK HONEY means: extreme beauty, power, intelligence, and confidence, for example: Laila Ali & V. Stiviano)

AUTHOR'S NOTE: For everyone attacking Goddess V: Read on

Part One/Before The Reign

1.

Excerpt from:
THE BRICKVILLE SUN
August 26, 2013
MYSTERY STILL UNSOLVED!
by Julius Brown III

Summer has come and gone in gloomy Brickville N.Y. and yet, residents are still discussing the gruesome Baskey Hotel killings. The terrible tragedy happened about eight months ago and...


2.

KARLEENA'S LUNCHBOX
345 West Honey Street
(232) 525-52529
Free delivery before 18pm

12:45 pm


As the winds began to rise and the temperature, to drop, Brickville Towers seemed stuck in a dismal loop of time where the horrid hotel
killings that occurred the previous winter, encompassed everything.
Be it a few whispers in the local library's fiction aisle, or an animated discussion in the pool- room at the back of Karleena's LunchBox, everybody had an opinion regarding the murders.
And some were more than willing to share it with whomever wanted to hear.
Plenty were trying to put it behind them, too; or so they often claimed when given the opportunity. Especially, in Karleena's LunchBox, where the winds of rumor seemed to blow especially hard and wild.
But who, some inquired, could possibly put such a horrid incident behind them quickly? And who could decapitate that many people in one fell swoop? Dozens of people in under fifteen minutes?
"Werewolfs did it!"
That was Thomas Dunlap's expert take on it. Thomas Dunlap was the town drunk; he was considered a creepy old man by most (kids actually called him The Creeper in the halls of Brickville's only high school---Cannibis High) who made it his solemn duty to terrorize the smaller children dwelling in the collection of drab brownstone buildings.
Thomas was currently standing over a brand new pool table and loud rap music was thumping all around him----a popular new song called Dark Horse by Katy Perry and Juicy Jay. There was a mug of beer sitting on the edge of the table, reflecting the bright green felt. A taller man stood next to that.
"Werewolfs, I say! It's the only thing strong enough or evil enough, to do such a horrid thing. God cursed whoever done it long ago, and now, they coming back for revenge!"
"Where you get that silly crap from Tommy Dunlap?" That question came from Mex Pearson's gruff voice. "Coming back for revenge? Revenge for what? Shut the hell up with that drunk foolishness!"
"It ain't foolish!" he screamed. "You'll see tonight! When they come back around here, when they come back to Brickville for blood!"
At that point, Mex Pearson who could take no more (Tommy had been going on like this for the better part of two hours), smacked Tommy in the face so hard, he stumbled forward and into a stack of wooden crates.
The people watching the drama seemed to inhale in unison.
"Hitting me in the head won't change nothing!" Tommy screamed at him, wiping at the blood dripping from his stinging nose as he got to his feet. "Werewolfs eat the bully and the bullied alike; they rip through the tender bellies of crying kids and then shred their pompus momma's and poppa's throats. They gone get you too Mex Pearson!"
"They can get my ass," Mex said, snuffing out his cigarette on the edge of the pool table, and exhaling smoke. "You just better stop that crazy talk old man. And it's werewolves you ignorant fool, not wolfs."
Tom's body suddenly froze up; he stood rigid with his head facing the front of the bar. Mex saw this and himself stood up straight, peering at the old man in wonderment. "Tommy?" he said. "What the hell's wrong with you?"
"Oooh you gone learn Mex Pearson!" Tom said in a weird voice, not looking at him, and seemingly staring at nothing. "Lord of the blind; is thoust Ramsees? Huh, pharoah? Whose god is God? Whose god is good? You gone know what I'm saying's true by this time tomorruh!"
He grinned a crooked grin, still staring forward. "Sacrifice!" he hissed, shaking one fist at the air. "And a woman would come to expose them. A young exotic black girl, sexy, in a magical visor and speaking in foreign tongues. Bow before the gods of darkness ye filthy dogs and worship the Blight!"
A sudden loud crash made the entire room jump. Someone threw a mug full of beer at Tommy's head, but missed him completely. Shards of glass scattered across the floor. Tom seemed to blink back into the real world; but slowly, and he still looked slightly dazed.
"Shut that trash up!" a voice yelled. "You babbling lush. Miller and Bud are ye only dark gods!"
A smattering of laughter trickled through the smoke-filled air.
There were maybe forty people occupying Karleena's Lunchbox that strange afternoon; the afternoon all the terror really started. Some were using the free solar laptop computers, or were using the video juke boxes attached to the walls.
Some were drinking ice-cold mugs of beer. (Laila Stiviano, V's mother, took extra pride in keeping her beers ice-cold.) Most were watching the free show.
"You all better heed me!" Tommy shouted at them. "You can drink and mock me now. You can even strike me, Mex Pearson. But my masters are on the way regardless, and boy are they pissed!"
"Who are your masters, and why are they pissed?" a soft voice asked.
Tommy spun around and saw a tall, slim, girl walk into the room from the kitchen area carrying four long necked Budweisers. The brown bottles clinked as she placed them down on the nearest table where two people sat.
A man in a plaid shirt glanced up with a smile and said, "Thanks."
He proceeded to hand one of the beers to the woman sitting across from him.
Tommy licked his lips, watching ice particles slide down the sides of the frosty bottles.
The girl, who noticed where Tommy was looking, wiped one hand on the apron hugging her hips. She gave Tommy a bemused smile. "You at it again, huh Tom?"
Tom shrugged, but his face had brightened substantially as soon as she'd walked in. And not just because of the Buds, either.
He waved one hand at the girl. "I ain't at nuthing," he said. Most of his fire had vanished; but his dark eyes looked wild. "And you'd better listen too. You ain't safe neither, V. Them werewolfs is coming! I seen 'em in my dreams girl...in my nightmares!"
V took a white rag out of her apron's pocket. "Tom, didn't my father ask you to stop starting confusion? All that talk of were- wolves and curses. You got everybody in Brickville jumping at shadows."
"Good!" he said, walking away from her and towards the kitchen. "They should be scared. And that goes for you too, girl. Jumping at shadows just might save your life!"
V glanced at the man who struck Tom. He was taller than her, and his eyes seemed to rove all over her body without moving at all. Starting at her low-cut top and stopping at her butt and hips. He had a hawk nose, and a scar that ran from his left eye to his chin.
V gazed up at him; slanted brown eyes were startling against her pale complexion. "My father also told you to keep your hands in your pockets," she whispered. "Didn't he, Pearson?"
"Somebody had to shut him up. Who was gonna do it," he whispered back. "You V? What you gone do, change the world?" He laughed. "What you think, you going down in history for saving the meek or something? Or, maybe you was just talking, and really do like hearing what he preaching? All that crazy werewolf talk?"
V didn't know what the hell he was talking about, and didn't care.
"You know I don't take him seriously," she said. "But that's no excuse to go around assaulting him, tough guy." She gazed at Mex. "Next time we have this talk," she said, "you'll be needing a lawyer."
She turned away from him, so she didn't see the expression that flashed across his face. (A face that reminded her of a gargoyle.) Or his middle finger. "Go in the kitchen," she told Tom. "I left a piece of apple pie for you, babe. You can tell me all about the wolves, okay?"
"Were-wolfs," he said, seriously.
"Werewolfs," she agreed.
"Who made it V? The pie?"
"Me, of course."
"Then, I'll take two pieces!" he cackled. "I always did like your cakes and pies, V Stiviano!"
She laughed. "Then, you can have two," she said, and watched him stagger through the kitchen doorway, drunk as a loon. She watched the door swing closed.
"You need to watch your mouth, V," Mex said. "Everybody in Brickville ain't enthused 'cause you a mixed black girl. Or afraid of your daddy; the great and terrible Mr. Stiviano. Oooh, ain't we fancy? What, think you better than us Ms. Thing?"
V turned and watched Pearson bend over the pool table, preparing to make a shot it seemed. But she could tell he was pissy drunk too, and eyed the poolstick in his clenched fist warily. He once used a poolstick on a man he was fighting, and that particular man still needed a cane during bad weather.
He must have lit another Newport while she was speaking with Tommy. It jutted from one corner of his mouth, a curl of smoke drifting to the ceiling, and he was grinning at her.
"You still here?" V said. "You can't find anywhere else to peddle your poison Mex? And I don't mean the Newport."
There were mumbles of agreement from the crowd at that.
Mex's grin widened around the cigarette. "Ever since your daddy got elected to town know-it-all," he said, "you been walking 'round here like your last name Obama." He slowly stood up, exhaling. "Your daddy won't live forever," he whispered. "You know that don't you Victory?"
She smiled up at him. "He'll live long enough to watch you hang should anything happen to me," she said. "And stop calling me that!"
Mex laughed, putting up his hands; the right one was still grasping the poolstick. "Seems like we got a misunderstanding little ma'am. V sweetheart. Happen to you? I'm just saying you should listen to 'ole Tommy-gun...it is dangerous out there in the big ole world, werewolfs or not."
"I'll keep that in mind," she said. "And I'll make sure to let my daddy know what you've been saying, too. Maybe, I'll even tell Keajah 'bout it?"
Mex bristled at that. "I ain't scared of him either," he said. "He's just another Mr. Big Shot acting like he's running all of Bricktown!"
"He sure did run you out of here last Fourth Of June," V said. "And if you keep talking, I'll have him do it again!"
Mex bent over the table again. He didn't respond; at least, not loud enough for her to hear, and V figured that was for the best. She could feel herself losing control the longer he ran his mouth.
The murmur of the crowd surrounding her suddenly invaded her senses. The stench of cigarette smoke and stale beer was cloying; the music was entirely too loud.
V glanced up as the kitchen door swung outward and Tommy re-entered the room. He was carrying a small saucer with a hunk of apple pie piled on it.
He had apparently helped himself to another piece already.
V smiled at him. "Was it good?"
Tommy flashed her a huge grin that she guessed hadn't seen a dentist since Mark Lavin was in office.
"It was ex-suh-lent!" he yelled, and some of the patrons in the immediate area erupted in laughter.
"I'm glad," she said. "Did you get some milk to wash it down?"
"I got all the milk I need right here," Tommy said. He patted his jacket pocket which garnered slight applause. V knew he had a bottle of pure Vodka in there.
"And are you done with that crazy werewolf talk?" V said, and smiled.
In that instant, a miraculous change came over Tommy. His face went blank as he jerked his head towards the front of the bar, and presumably, the front windows.
He nearly dropped his pie too, but V, who had developed a sixth sense ever since she started waitressing it seemed, moved in quickly to steady his hand.
"What's the matter?" she said.
"Tommy? Are you okay?"
"I gotta go!" Tommy barked with such venom that a startled V stepped backwards. He turned to her, still holding the saucer with the pie on it. His hands were trembling so much the silver spoon rattled on the plate."
"I gotta get ready for tonight!" he said in a panicked voice. His normally red and watery eyes seemed to clear up a bit----as if the alcohol he had already consumed had vanished from his system.
For a moment he just stared at her. Then, he whispered: "They're really coming, V. I don't want you to be in Brickville when they do, either!"

3.

V Stiviano probably knew as much about the Baskey Hotel Killings as anyone sitting in her family's bar that afternoon did. In fact, when all was said and done, she felt she may have even known a little bit more.
For example, she knew that fifty people were murdered up at Basky's that snowy night eight months ago. And she knew that most of them had been tourists from other countries: Ten had come from Vitaly, fifteen from Coastrailia, twenty from Kleden, and five from Grazil.
She also knew that a few of them were apparently law enforcement officers of some sort, because they supposedly found iron-clad evidence to suggest this was the case.
The Official Brickville Seekers (or OBS---the Brickville police force, in our dimensional terms) wouldn't share the nature of the evidence, but Lucas Denton intimated that IDs, badges, and even a few licensed firearms, had been confiscated from the scene.
The part V considered most interesting, was the fact that according to forensics, none of the weapons recovered were fired that night. Yet, they were all scattered about the lawn as if they'd been drawn to fire, but not fast enough to matter.
She could have asked her father what that meant, but didn't need to. She already knew it meant that whoever, or whatever, murdered those fifty people (some as young as sixteen, she'd also heard) did it despite many of the victims being armed professional killers; and did it while the hotel was packed with people. Yet, nobody saw or heard anything.
V wasn't much for mysteries, but she couldn't deny sharing Keajah's and her father's deep curiousity over it all.
How was it possible that so many people could be wiped out like that and only twenty feet away (albeit inside a building) an office party was just getting started?
What made even less sense, was the notion that a creature which was neither wolf nor man, but somehow both, had done the insane killing.
But what was ultimately scary, was the fact that her father believed it as strongly as Tommy Dunlap did. She was beginning to think even her boyfriend was catching the werewolf bug.
Now, she took out her talkie and dialed Keajah's number. She needed to speak to him; she couldn't pretend anymore. Tommy had frightened her this afternoon.
It wasn't what he was saying, as much as it was how he'd said it. And that look in his eyes; not the scared look---she'd seen that before. But that clear-eyed, almost sober look. That look had startled her.
Despite the waves of stink drifting from his body, at that moment, he seemed no more drunk than she was. And she didn't drink alcohol.
She'd known Tommy ever since she could recall knowing anyone, but she'd never seen him look that way.
Like he suddenly remembered he had a lot of important stuff to do that day, and drinking was about the last thing on his list.
Of course, such thoughts wouldn't have mattered to Keajah, in the least. Or to her father, for that matter. It was the other stuff; the weird: my masters are coming, worship the blight, and gods of darkness stuff, that would have gotten their ears all perked up.
Keajah answered the phone:
"V?" he said.
"Hi, Keajah."
"What's up, honey?"
"Where are you?" she said.
"Your father----Mr. Stiviano, I mean, asked me to pick something up for him over in Drayton.
V considered that for a moment. "Are you finished picking it up?" she asked at last.
"Just about," he said.
"Good," she breathed
"Why, V? What's wrong? You sound funny."
"We need to talk," she said.
"We are talking."
"I mean face to face."
"Okay," he said. " I'll drop by once I'm done. Are you at the bar?"
"No," she said, "I'm driving, I'm on my way home. I didn't feel like staying around there today. I'm not feeling too good Keajah."
"What's the matter?" he asked her, beginning to sound worried.
She exhaled. "I spoke to Tom today. Or more like, he was talking to everyone in the bar, and I overheard him."
"What was he saying?"
"Ever since those killings he's been talking about werewolves, saying he thinks one was responsible for the murders."
Keajah exhaled. "I know what he's been saying. And I can't lie V, I believe some of it. What could do such damage, and so quickly? It's impossible to even imagine a gang of men doing that. The entire area was covered in blood!"
"Why not wolves?" she asked.
"Whatever did it, tied them up with rope," he said. "And then hung them upside down from the trees outside the hotel. Wolves can't tie knots or climb trees, V."
V had no response to that. "Just come by when you get the chance," she said. "He's been saying something else...something strange I don't think you've ever heard."
There was a long pause. "Such as?" he asked, finally.
"He said they're coming back tonight. He said his masters were coming back to Bricktown for blood.And that they were pissed."
"His masters? Meaning who?"
"That's what I said to myself. He was talking crazy, Keajah. Crazier than usual. And some of it..."
"What?" he said. "What is it?"
"Some of it," she said, "actually sounds believable."

******
That conversation took place two hours ago. V told Keajah to get over to her house as soon as he could, which he agreed to do.
Since then, V had reached home, devoured a huge hero sandwhich (which was ironic in a way; though she didn't know it at the time) and taken a hot bath.
She was now attempting to make some sense out of everything Tom had said to her; assuming that was even possible.
She glanced at the digital clock sitting on her dresser. 2:37 pm, it read, and she sighed. Tom said his "masters" were coming tonight. That they wanted revenge and were after blood. Revenge for what?
It was one of the things she really wanted to know.
But unfortunately, Tommy didn't specify the exact time tonight, which reminded her.
She got up from the bed and walked to a six-foot tall plastic enclosure that was set up beside her closet. On the outside of the structure was a small square of metal covered in buttons. Tiny lights flashed and blinked. After studying the object for a moment, V started pushing buttons.
Things beeped and buzzed, then the enclosure slid open. She glanced inside, peered around, then withdrew her head.
She pressed more buttons and it slid closed again. Then, she took out her talkie. She dialed a number and waited while it rang. After a brief time, somebody answered.

4.

"Hello!" a voice yelled. "This is Tommy, who's this?"
"Tom?" she said. "It's me, V. Where are---"
"V?" he whispered. "What happened, baby? Why you calling?"
"Remember what you said about the...about the werewolves?" she said. "In the Lunchbox?"
"What about them, gorgeous?" he said. "They coming tonight V. You planning on leaving? You changed your mind about believing me?"
She exhaled. "I need to know where you got your information," she said. "How did you find out the cray---the strange things you've been telling everyone?"
"I already told you---I dreamt it, V."
"Is that all?" she asked him. "You seem so sure of it...that a werewolf killed those people up at the hotel. Why are you so sure?"
She heard him exhale. "I ain't saying it over this talkie," he said. "Where are you?"
"I'm home," she said. "Where are you?"
"I'm in my cellar," he said.
"I'm going to bring you here by Escape Hatch," she said. "I want you to tell me where you learned the stuff you said. And explain what you meant when you called them your 'masters."
There was a long drawn-out pause, and then V heard him saying: "You want to hear it all?"
"Yes," she said hesitantly.
"I guess you might even wanna see 'em?" he said.
V's heart jumped in her chest. See them? She hadn't considered getting to see them.
"Of...course," she said.
"Okay," he said, exhaling. "You got my coordinates, don't ya?"
"Yes," she said. "But---"
"Bring me to you in exactly five minutes," Tom said. "I got some things you might wanna see."
"Things about the werewolves?" she whispered.
"Just bring me over," he said. "And have a few beers in the box and some Mary Jane for me."
"And some apple pie?" she added in a playful tone.
"Yeah," Tom said, chuckling. "And especially some apple pie."

5.

In exactly five minutes, V who had been putting a few items into a small cloth bag, suddenly placed the bag down on her bed.
She walked over to the plastic tube and studied the neon green digital readout glowing on a tiny screen. It read:
1. Destination: Harpeer Avenue
2. Subject: Tom Dunlap
3. Age: 45
4. Biochemical address: 74137
5. Return bio-address: 74138
6. Dwelling Level: basement
Ater studying it one more time, to make sure of the coordinates (a sane person avoided making setting mistakes when triggering an Escape Hatch), V pressed a glowing button with EXECUTE SEND printed beneath it.
She squinted as a pink light flashed inside the plastic tube. Bright white steam that smelled slightly lemony billowed from the bottom of the enclosure.
There was a thin hissing noise as the plastic panel slid open. She grinned as she watched Tom walk out of the swirling clouds.
"Are you okay?" she asked him.
"Fine," he said, and nodded. "Whoo girl, that was exhilirating!"
V laughed. "It's been awhile, huh?"
Tom smiled. "Everybody ain't as rich as the Stiviano family," he said, grinning shyly. "But if anybody in Brickville Towers gotta have money, I'd want it to be you, V. You special and deserve it, black honey."
"I'm as far from rich as you are," she lied. (V was incredibly rich, and everyone in BT knew she was.) "Did you bring the info?"
"Got it," he said, walking into her dining room. She saw the burlap bag swinging from his right shoulder.
"Thirsty?" V asked, as she watched Tom walk over to her wooden table and sit down in one of the chairs standing beneath it.
"Not right now," he said. He gazed up at her. "What happened?" he asked her. "What changed V?"
V, trying her hardest to ignore the old man's sour smell, went to the same table and took a seat across from him. She placed her hands on the table. She shrugged, saying: "I don't know; I guess some of the things you said really got to me."
Tommy stared at V; he appeared to be truly seeing her for the first time. "You really are worried," he whispered. "I don't ever recall seeing you like this, V. What part did it?" he asked.
"The masters part," she replied.
"Why did you refer to them in that way?"
Tom didn't reply; instead, he reached into the brown burlap bag that he'd placed on the floor beside him. She watched as he withdrew what appeared to be a book.
"They ain't from here," he said, as he placed the book on the table, and glanced at her. One of his gnarled, dark hands was resting atop the even darker cover.
"Where do they come from?" she said. "And why are they coming here?"
"They come from a place called Earth," Tom said. He glanced down at the book. "I found this book in the town dump. I can't even remember what I was doing there, but I remember waking up with it beneath my head---like it was a pillow or something."
"What is it?" V asked.
"The title is: DIMENSION X," he said. "And it's supposed to be about the werewolfs on their way here."
V stood up, exhaling, and walked over to the Escape Hatch. She had to gather herself. She saw the book's cover...she couldn't believe what she'd seen, but...
V walked back over to the table and peered down at it. She gasped with surprise and stumbled backwards. The cover was the image of a woman, just as she'd thought. She was extremely beautiful, V felt. Extraordinarily.
But what made her stumble was the name printed above the pretty female's face. The name was Karleena Mossie Stiviano, and Karleena Mossie was her sister's name!
The long-haired woman on the cover didn't look much like her sister. V herself, was rather pale- skinned and exotic-looking, with sharp cheekbones, full lips, and slanted eyes. Features close to the woman's, she thought, while her sister was much darker skinned, more like a honey brown color, and she was one of the few black girls in their city with light blue eyes.
"What the hell?" she whispered. "Why is my last name on this?"
"I was stunned too," Tom said. "Had to go and get Petey Warner, to ask him was my eyes workin'! Karleena Mossie Stiviano," he said. "Of course, I immediately thought of ya sister. Where is she by the way?"
"She's at school," V whispered, still gazing down at the book. How could this woman have the exact same name as her sister?
"You found this in the dump?" V asked him.
"Yep," he said.
"We're you alone?"
"Not really," he said. "Had my nephew with me."
"Anwar?" she said.
"Yeah," he said. "And something crazy happened when I first opened it."
V's eyes were very wide as she glanced at him. "What happened?" she said.
"I'm gonna tell you V," he replied. "Don't worry. But first I need you to do something for me."
He peered at her. "And you might not like it."

6.

As it turned out, Tommy was right, she didn't like it.
"Hell no!" she said. "Are you crazy Tom?"
Tom shook his head. "I know how you feel," he said. "But you're the only one who can do it, girl."
"I can't stand him!" she said. "Nobody can! He's one of Satan's children, and I wouldn't touch him if my life depended on it!"
Tom sighed as he looked down at the book again. He could literally
smell the age of the thing...a slight mildewy odor that may have come from it sitting in a garbage dump, but he couldn't say for sure.
When he finally looked up again, V was watching him. "You gotta do it baby," he said. "For whatever reason, he's infatuated with you." He smiled shyly. "Plenty of men are," he added. "Can ya blame him?"
V exhaled. No, she couldn't blame him. She knew she was beautiful, and smart, and extremely valuable to men like him. Men who felt inadequate sexually, and needed a female to prop up their fragile egos. "Why must I do this?" she asked him. "Is it really that important?"
Tom shrugged. "Wacowsky's got a thing for black honey's, and he especially likes them mixed chicks. Like you," he said. "Tall, red-bone, long hair, full pretty lips." He grinned. "And that smile."
V, who had already sat down at the table again, said: "I can't help how I look. But there's more to a woman than just her beauty. I feel God has a purpose for me...and it's not to please vile losers like him!"
Tommy sighed. "I know you do," he said. "V, I knew you was special the day you was born. We all did. I couldn't say which part was prettiest...your insides or your outsides. But you always knew right from wrong, V. I always knew you had God's light in you."
V smiled. "That's sweet," she said. "But I wouldn't go that far Tommy. I'm just trying to live right, and do what I can to help the helpless."
"Then, you should know what I mean," he said. "He's obviously obsessed with you being Black and Mexican. We can use that against him."
"What will this accomplish?" she asked him.
"He carries a key on him," Tom said. "The key opens a box containing a weapon we need to get before tonight comes...before the werewolves get here."
V frowned. "Where's this box?"
"It's in my basement," he said. "In a safe place."
"This is all so confusing!" she said. She glanced at the book, again. The words: DIMENSION X seemed to call out to her. And she suddenly felt afraid.
"I can understand that," Tom said. "But it has to be done; when I show you what's inside this here book, you might change your tune."


STAY TUNED FOR THE COMPLETE NOVEL DEDICATED TO GODDESS V. FOR SALE SOON. She's my hero...V. Stiviano for president!"

Get, and stay, well Miley Cyrus; I need you, honey. SAG POWER!!!