Candy paint glistening in the setting sun glow, navy blue with black trim. The 1970 Cadillac Coupe Deville glided along the lonely stretch of road, glistening 20-inchers bouncing any light everywhere. These weren’t your run of the mill hot wheels rims, these were all-metal, heavy as hell on the tranny, and threatening to kill the beautiful car before it reached its destination. A deep, driving bass resounded out of the trunk as a pair of 15-inch subwoofers reverberated. Slight rattles along the all-metal body showed off the professional quality of the wiring and tuning of the booming system, none of that janky shaking some of those low-end systems had.

A heavy guitar riff leaked out of the window as the passenger cracked it a bit. A gust of fresh, autumn air hitting his face as he let out a shaky breath, wringing his hands.

“Don’t trip lil cuh, you got this shit.” The man sitting behind the wheel exuded relaxed confidence. He flashed his passenger a reassuring smile, showing off his top and bottom diamond-studded grills. Hanging in two braided ponytails, the man's long hair trailed down his chest. His black shirt, jeans, and shoes stood out against the white leather interior.

Outside the window, the muted browns and beiges of the Nevada desert glowed orange under the setting sun. The pink and purple streaked sky smiled down on the fast-moving caravan that included the unnecessarily gaudy Cadillac. Ahead of them, weaving for no apparent reason, was a lifted 4 door truck. Black on black with unnecessarily large 30-inch rims, the engine roared as the driver continued to recklessly play chicken with oncoming traffic. His wild, hooting laughter floated back to the two occupants of the Cadillac, who both shook their heads.

“Nocks,” the passenger gripped his thigh, pushing down to stop his nervous fidgeting. “What if I don’t do it?”

Nocks glanced at his passenger, eyes darkening momentarily before a smile that didn’t reach his pupils spread across his full lips, grills glistening as deep orange rays bounced off of them. “Shit, then we wasted hella time coming out here.”

“Look.” Gripping the steering wheel with his left hand and reaching over with his right, Nocks put a cold hand on the back of his younger cousin’s neck. “You know what you gotta do. It’s grown man shit now, cuh. Feel me?”

Staring at his hands, a tremor passed as he balled them up. “I got you, cuh.” He looked up at his older cousin and gave a weak smile.

“Aight,” Nocks let out a chuckle as he rubbed the young man’s neck playfully, jostling his hair as he knocked his black beanie off. “Like I said, you got it cuh. We almost there. Enjoy the slaps ‘til we get there.”

Another heavy metal song began as Nocks turned the volume up. The speakers beat against their legs as they continued their journey to the tune of heavy guitars and banging basslines.

---

The large truck pulled into the small driveway of a secluded property, followed by the Cadillac. As the occupants of each vehicle hopped out, a cacophony of two very distinct and different music genres filled the still night air.

Loud, brash rap spilled out of the truck as the nearest back door flew open. A short young man jumped down, landing gingerly as he dusted himself off. His fresh black t-shirt highlighted his tan skin and defined, almost feminine, facial features. A pair of plated gold hoop earrings hung close to his ear lobes as he turned and waved at the passing car.

“Turn yer weird-ass music down, bruh. Always got that white boy shit playing. Don’t even slap.”

Nocks flipped him the bird as he brought the car to a complete stop, transmission loudly shifting as he put it in park. His bright, iridescent LED headlights illuminated an open field, casting an eerie pall over the gently swaying brown grass.

“Shut yo bitch ass up, Dough,” yelled the tall man who had been sitting in the passenger seat of the truck. He leaned over the roof of the truck, standing on the edge of the door sill. “You can’t be talking, always tryna listen to that weird-ass circus music and shit.”

“It’s called cumbia, you fuckin’ uncultured, big for nothing ass dropout,” Dough remarked over his shoulder, flashing his bottom grill as he spoke. “You rolled that shit up or what?”

The passenger of the truck hopped down and threw a velvet bag at Dough. “Roll that shit next time you lazy bitch.”

Nocks and his passenger both stepped out of the car as the engine was killed. Tossing a backpack to the young passenger, Nocks pulled out a second bag before slamming the door shut.

“Shine, grab the mark,” Nocks pointed with his nose at the tall young man as he walked by, passenger in tow, and towards the small, slightly dilapidated shack. “And Moan, you and Dough go get the hole ready.”

Moan, the driver of the truck hopped down and gave a mock salute as his shoulder-length dreadlocks swung. “Aye aye, Cap’n Nocks, Sir!”

The dark, dank little shack spewed a rank smell as Nocks swung the door open. With an ominous creak, it jerkily resisted as he pushed it. Using his phone flashlight, the passenger illuminated the small room as he reached for the hanging pull chain.

A weak light overtook the weaker phone flashlight, casting an uncomfortable orange haze on the small room. Flickering, it buzzed as it gained strength.

“Fuck,” Nocks covered his nose as he entered. The musk that assailed him was one of unwashed ass and dirty, years-old beds. “Hoes couldn’t even clean this bitch after they used it.”

The passenger followed, hand held over his nose and mouth as he surveyed the decrepit interior. A small, heavily soiled mattress lay in the corner of the shack, sad and sagging. Various stains adorned its surface, all ranging in colors but most seeming to be blood or urine. A small wooden chair sat next to the far wall of the shack, just under the only window. A pile of frayed ropes lay at the feet of the chair, dried liquid caked and pooled under it.

With a huff, Nocks dropped his backpack and pulled out a blue tarp. “Some of these fuckers need to learn how to clean up after themselves,” He mumbled as he opened the tarp. “Grab that side and pull it tight.”

The passenger dropped his backpack as well, grabbing the opposite corner of the tarp and pulling it, dropping it as he stepped over and pulled some stakes out of his pack. The shack didn’t have a concrete floor as it had been built directly on top of the dirt. Why build a proper floor when it's just going to be knocked down sooner or later?

He tossed a couple to Nocks and the two set about driving them into the soft ground. Just enough to anchor the tarp but not so much that it would be hard to pull out. As they finished up, Shine called out to them through labored breaths.

“Ei, one of yaw grab the legs. This fucker kinda heavy.”

As the passenger scrambled out to help, he noticed that the large man was covered in sweat. “Fat ass,” he mumbled as he took a hold of the legs of the mark.

“Bitch,” Shine huffed as he stepped into the dank little shack. “I ain’t fat, this motherfucker is.”

Wrapped up in a heavy moving blanket with ropes tied around them, a man whimpered as he was roughly deposited onto the middle of the tarp. Nocks rolled the man over with a foot as he pulled the gag off.

The man immediately began babbling.

“Kataki, tamaiki. Kai ke ‘iai ha ‘eku seniti keu ‘oatu ka moutolu. Fakamolemole, ‘oua te mou si’i pehe’i au. (Please, boys. I don’t have any money to give. Please, don’t do me like this.)” He spoke in quick bursts as if he were scared he would be gagged once more. The three young men understood but weren’t fluent speakers of the language.

Crouching next to the man, Nocks spoke in a soft voice.

“Don’t worry, OG, we’ll make it quick. It’s just how it’s gotta be.”

The older man seemed to understand English but not the nuance or context. His face was a mixture of confusion and hopeful bewilderment.

“Te mou tukuange’i au? (You’ll let me go?)”

Shaking his head, the passenger spoke. “ ‘Ikai. (No.)”

The man began crying as the passenger turned and pulled a machete out of the backpack he’d discarded. Nocks, with a twinge of guilt on his face, stuffed the gag back in the man’s mouth.

The large, prone man began struggling, wriggling back and forth as he attempted to break his bonds. Veins protruded from his balding head and neck as he pushed himself to hopefully escape, arms straining against the tightly wound ropes. His stomach jiggled as he continued his futile efforts, heaving as he sobbed. Slobber, tears, and snot all mingled and streamed down his face as his eyes darted about wildly.

“Aight, lil cuh,” Nocks finally spoke up, clearing his throat. “Get this shit over with.”

Hands trembling, the adrenaline and anxiety came rushing back as his hands went numb. He could feel the numbness climbing up the arm that was holding the machete so he shook it, just to make sure it was still there.

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

The dull machete descended, thudding against the man’s meaty neck. Shock reverberated back up the passenger’s arm as he saw the gag fly out of the mark’s mouth. A gasping, gut-churning scream issued from the large man as he wheezed.

“Shit,” the passenger cursed under his breath as he raised his arm again.

Another dull thud, this time accompanied by a sticky splash and another wheezing scream. It reminded him of when he’d first learned how to kill a pig, how it screamed and wailed when he stabbed it but didn’t get its heart on the first stick.

The machete raised again as blood dripped down onto his forehead.

A final muted crack emanated as the wheezing screams died off. The acrid smell of shit and piss hit his nostrils as the, now dead, mark vacated himself. Adrenaline raged in his ears as he heard the blood pumping back and forth, swishing about. He finally realized how muffled everything was, how all he could hear was the beating of his heart. Bile stung at his tonsils.

Turning, the passenger noticed Shine standing in the doorway with a huge grin plastered across his big face. His large hands encased a phone, camera twinkling as it was pointed straight at the grisly scene.

“Welcome to the club, lil bro,” Shine congratulated him as he clicked his phone closed, large fingers deftly sliding the small thing into his pocket.

Adrenaline still coursing through his veins, the passenger stared dumbly, unable to make any proper connections. His stomach churned. His throat locked up. The taste grew stronger, the smell too.

“Move Shine,” Nocks grabbed the passenger’s shoulder and pulled him out of the small shack.

As they stepped out the young man doubled over, spewing the greasy contents of his stomach all over the dirt. Nocks nervously chuckled next to him, a reassuring hand rubbing the middle of his back.

“It’s all good lil cuh,” his voice was soft, brotherly. “It’s natural. Let that shit out, ‘cause we gettin’ fucked up after this.”

---

Five shovels worked in unison under the watchful eye of the LED floodlights mounted on top of the lifted truck.

The five men worked quietly, scooping and throwing the dirt in a monotonous silence. In the middle, the youngest and newest member solemnly focused on his work. Sweat streamed down his face, mingling with the sporadic tears that forced their way out. The pain in his soft palms helped keep his head on straight as the dizziness threatened, lurking just beneath.

As the last bit of dirt was placed on the shallow grave, Nocks stepped back and wiped his forehead with a large, heavily tattooed forearm.

“Aight cuhs, let’s get the fuck outta here,” Reaching over to the newest member, he ruffled the young man’s hair as he pulled him into a hug. “Shit’s just a natural part of it, lil cuh. Let’s go get fucked up.”

Shine patted the young man’s shoulder as he walked by. “You’ll be aight lil bro.”

Dough lightly dapped his chest, flashing a bright, winning smile. “I had to do three before they let me in. Lucky lil hoe.”

Moan draped an arm over the young man’s shoulder, giving him a light squeeze. “Let’s go, don’t dwell on it too much. Now we can finally use your new name. Right, Known?”

Known smiled as he nodded, a feeble attempt at trying to distract himself as he let the older man lead him away from the shallow grave. As he got into the Cadillac, his gaze stayed focused on the spot. His gut churned as he accepted a blunt from Nocks.

“Good shit, cuh.”