Intimidation and other forms of persuasion
I poured water from the bottle slowly over his bagged head.
He was tied to a cheap lawn chair with a cotton bag over his head, only a small hole at the center of the bag so that he could breathe. I had him blindfolded but not gagged. I wanted some answers.
“Wake Up.” I commanded
He didn’t at first but as the cold draft hit his wet naked body. He subconsciously started shivering.
Slowly he began groaning and then shaking his head left to right, he must be confused at why he couldn’t see. Then finally the panic set in.
“WHERE AM I- SOMEBODY HELP!” he began shouting, no he screamed!
For supposedly being a badass he sounded like a sissy.
Still we couldn’t have him attracting any attention so I simply put the gun I found on his person to his head. As the gun touched his forehead he instantly went limp.
It was like he was put in a spell.
I could hear the insects screaming, the birds chirping and the sounds of a nearby small ravine. We were far away from any of the bustles of the city.
The only thing that reminded me of the city was the sound of the car’s engine running.
It was too dark and I didn't bring any flashlight with me so the car’s headlights will do.
Immediately after knocking him out I gagged him and put him in the trunk of his car.
Drove to the most remote area I knew; Forest Bint’s.
We had all the privacy we needed here. It was a two hour drive from Queens. I tried to avoid the roads with cameras. Thank god this wasn’t 2022 or else getting out of new york city without getting noticed would be impossible. Smartphones gave the worst problems to all the criminals living in the year 2022.
Besides the lack of technological advancements, It also helped that it was at the dead of night!
A good thing Aunt May insisted on staying with Uncle Ben until he was cleared. He still had some tests to do, for some reason he was silent when I asked what the issue was. The doctor confirmed they were just doing some routine tests to see if he was fully healthy or not.
I was in no hurry to go back home. Like I said, I wanted some answers!
I still had the ski mask on which I wore while driving.
Worse comes to worse I'll have to flee if I attract any police attention..
I even made a prototype web shooter just in case I had to bounce. The whole process was made easier by having cannon knowledge.
It seemed that all my preparations were wasted when literally no one batted an eye when a suspicious man in a ski mask drove off in a Flashy Cadillac with broken windows.
‘Jesus, how understaffed were the police?’ I remember thinking when I got out of New York City jurisdiction, It was ridiculously easy. So easy that I thought there was some kind of trap waiting for me. So I kept on checking my rearview mirror for anyone following me.
I even waited half an hour after reaching deep Forest Bints territory to see if anyone would come but alas no one did. I used the time to completely scour his entire car and found a pocket journal in the dash, a wad of cash, an autobiography of some pimp and a million receipts from Denny's.
I threw out the food that the lady brought before leaving NYC.
While I waited to see if there was any ambush, I read his pocket journal by climbing on a nearby tree.
The idea of a pimp journaling made me almost want to laugh out loud but he was smart.
Smart enough to code important names and not write anything incriminating. It seemed his name was Curtis. Didn’t get his last name though but he does mention his street name being Cool Weather to honor his idol Iceberg Slim. He even carried his autobiography around for temerity.
The whole journal thing seemed like a farce but he did mention the attack on Lily in it and how a ‘Civi old motherfucker had to be captain save a hoe’ so I could assume it had some legitimacy.
There were some other things I could gather from his journals, some of his contacts and phone numbers. He took care to not mention anyone by name and only referring to them with own made up initials.
He was smarter than your average pimp. I'll give him that!
When enough time passed, it was obvious no one was coming.
I decided to strip him naked and tie him to the chair.
It was just him and me here and I had all the time in the world to get to know him properly!
POV - Curtis
Fear paralyzed his entire body, it was either that or the blows to his head but he couldn’t move an inch either ways. He was cold, he could feel his ass on the chair. His feet were in the wet mud and he was naked as the day he was born.
Curtis had never experienced this kind of fear in his life.
Not when his step-father belted him, not even when the cops stomped his head to the concrete. There was always an agreement between the two parties that so long as he behaved he would live to see another day.
There was no such understanding here.
He couldn’t see shit as the bag completely blocked out his vision.
It was also hard for him to breathe with all the blood lodged up his nose.
‘Where the hell am I?’
The only sound he recognized was the sound of his car's shitty engine running, he could feel the heat radiating from the headlights of his car. That was his only solace as the cruel wind blew violently, he was quite literally freezing his balls.
As a man who never left Harlem and never bothered to learn any of the nearby Geography he was at a complete loss to where he was! Why would he? He never had the need to but now he regretted not taking that initiative.
The man who put the Glock to his dome wasn’t fucking around.
He was in deep shit, if only his head wasn’t hurting so much he could maybe think a way out of this.
He heard sounds of ruffling and a person moving. Was it just a single person? Did the Kingpin really forgive him or was he really gonna die here because of that bitch lily?
“Pimp: The Story of My Life - Iceberg Slim. You’re quite well read for a pimp.” the man said.
“What do you want? Why did you bring me here?” his voice was almost a whisper, that fucker almost broke his windpipe choking him out like that.
“Now wait a minute Curtis, I’m the one asking the questions now!”
“Did the King send you?” he asked desperately, letting emotion come over him.
The man didn’t answer to this immediately but when he did reply it was in a playful tone
“I thought you were one of the smarter pimps curtis? What happened to your comprehension skills? I ask questions, you answer them! Nod once if you understand!!”
Not being in a hurry to die, Curtis could only nod but due to his fear he fucked up, he ended up nodding more than once.
The man laughed cruelly
“Relax Curtis, I won’t do anything as long as you answer my questions. No need to be so afraid.”
His mind took a huge sigh of relief.
Of course the man intended to let him go otherwise why bother blindfolding him?
Now that he regained his senses he could distinctly think.
The first thing that came to his mind was the man’s voice sounded a little bit off. He sounded a bit young.
‘Kingpin wouldn’t hire teenagers, only professionals.’ he silently made note and hoped Fisk hadn’t changed his hiring policies.
“Do you remember the man who saved Lily? One of my associates heard you say something about how you were gonna beat him up or something.” He said with a coldness no compassionate man should have.
The confidence that he wouldn’t kill him was shattered and replaced with terror.
“I…I….uh….Fuck man…I di..dint..didn’t mean that.” I stuttered fearing the worst
“Oh really. My associate heard you say something about how you’re ‘gonna fuck that old motherfucker up’ or are you saying my associate is lying.”
“Please…Please. I’m a nobody i can’t fucking hurt a fly man.”
CLICK
The sound of the Glock reloading made him almost piss his pants.
“Really?” the man asked
Expecting a gunshot, Curtis Mayweather held his breath thinking he was going to meet his maker in the next few seconds.
.
.
.
When it didn’t come, he let out a huge sigh of relief.
“Look man, I was just talking shit. I don’t have beef with anyone, old or young. I’m just trying to make it man. The gun is for my protection, I swear I haven't even used it. I swear it on my dead mother man. Let me go, please. I’m innocent, I haven't done shit.”
He was telling the truth though he didn’t know for a fact that his mother was dead. She probably was, with all the dope she was shooting in her veins the last time he saw her.
He hadn’t seen her since he was fourteen when he first started gangbanging.
“That's where you’re wrong, Curtis. You’re far from innocent, you're in fact the farthest thing from innocent. You’re Scum and the worst kind at that. You beat up women and act like you’re the shit! But we know that's not true, don't we Curtis. You’re just a parasite that feeds on the desperate and needy.”
Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.
What was this Jerry Springer, Dr Phil shit he was pulling! Who the fuck was he to judge him. Wasn't he the one threatening him with a gun? He sounded like a civilian but something inside Curtis Mayweather told him to not make that mistake
‘No maintain your fucking composure curtis, always be cool.’ he thought
“I’ll change, man! I’ll fucking change. I'll become a square. I fuckin swear man, just let me go.” He channeled his desperation to act the best he could.
Right now he needs to get away from this do-good righteous lunatic as much as possible.
“Before I let you go, I have some questions.” he said buying his act. Curtis nodded as soon as possible, playing up his helpless act.
Curtis could lie all day, then the kingpin can handle this lunatic.
“Do you enjoy beating up powerless women?”
What
“Umm”
“I said, ‘Do you enjoy beating up powerless women?’ it's a really simple question really”
“Man i don’t-” before he could finish he felt pain like he never did from his right ribs. He thought it was a steel bat as the pain hit him. Though his body had taken enough hits from bats to know when he was hit by one. His body recognized the shape of a fist but he just couldn’t believe a man’s fist was capable of that much power.
“Agh” he yelled
‘What the fuck, Agh god it hurt. What the fuck was his fists made of, Stone?’
“Curtis, don't make me hurt you like this, answer the question.”
“I got to sh-sh-show the-them who’s boss. Jes-us Please don’t punch me again.”
“Honesty is all I ask.” he proceeded to ask his next question
“Okay next question? Do you supply them with drugs? So that you can control them better.”
“Yeah man, it’s all part of the game..” this time he answered without a break.
“Who supplies you with it?”
That crosses out the Kingpin out of the people this man was working for!
So who was he? Some kind of deranged Vigilante or something.
“Man they’re just some hoes? I just buy it off some gangbanger on some fucking corner . I’m Just a nobody, a low level-”
“Pimp, yes i know but then explain how your girls are working at the New gate Plaza hotel. You can’t afford that. Explain why you left Harlem? Explain how all your girls all wear fur coats. Explain the drug deals you do using your girls? Who’s backing the pimp named Cool Weather?”
This man was dangerous. If the fact that he had abducted him and was torturing him wasn’t enough then the fact that he blew his entire ruse did. He sounded young but experienced with this kind of shit.
Curtis Mayweather was stuck between a rock and one of the hardest motherfucking places in the entire world. If he ratted out the kingpin, he had no doubt in his mind that Fisk would skin him alive and go medieval on his ass but if he didn’t answer this fucker might puncture his lungs with the next blow.
“I…uh” he contemplated saying nobody but he knew that would just earn him another punch. Curtis Mayweather was always a good liar, he had to be one to make it out of those mean streets. His mind went overdrive and in a second he spun the best story he could.
“I…uh…I formed an independent organization. I wanted to move into the place where all the money was and that’s why..uh I wanted to fucking take over this entire city. My girls helped by acting as mules, they would also fuck high level politicians for blackmail later that's why they stay at the expensive hotel. Insurance for a rainy day. They can’t be looking like a $5 whore if you want anyone important. So I make sure to treat ‘em right.”
It was a believable story, one that made sense since he was sure Fisk was sending him clients his way to get dirt on them. He was pretty sure that he had the entire hotel bugged.
The only part of it that didn’t make any sense was him starting his own independent crime ring. If you knew anything about New York City, it was that some no-name pimp from Harlem would get crushed like a bug if they tried to do anything like that.
The powers that be.
Which Wilson Fisk was one of, didn’t take competition lightly. Especially one that operated in his backyard, Hell's Kitchen.
From all the things he guessed about the man in front of him now, he could deduce that he wasn’t well versed in the criminal world all that much. It was just the way he carried himself, there was something incredibly naïve about the man.
The way he referred to him, the way he listened and communicated.
Call it an instinct developed through years of survival if you will but Curtis felt his chances of living were higher by not ratting out the big man.
His tormentor didn’t respond immediately. Instead he took his time digesting this new information.
‘Yes, He was buying it again. Shit I really might get out of this aliv-’
“How do you know James Wesley?”
He couldn’t help but drop his jaw.
Jesus this man knew that fucking lawyer, the creepy silent fuck that always hangs around with Fisk.
No civilian can know that shit.
More importantly, how did he know that he knew wesley.
“I..uh…I..don’t know-”
BAM!!!!
He punched him right in his stomach. Jesus Christ Almighty Please!!!
“Agggh!” he vomited, unable to take the pain.
“All I ask Curtis, is honesty. That's all”
He could feel his eyes welling up with tears. He felt powerless and alone.
‘Why do his punches hurt so much! Jesus please!!!’ It had been a long time since he prayed but now felt like a good time to start again.
“Now, I’ll ask again who backs you.” his tone was dead serious
“K…k….Kin….Kingpin.” the words barely left his mouth.
He signed his fate whatever it may be.
‘One more of this fuckers punch and i’ll be in the morgue anyways!’
“Haven't you heard of the phrase, `Honesty is the best policy.’ That wasn’t so hard now was it.” he said, returning back to his cheerful tone.
“Honesty would have me killed before Sunrise you fucker. The kingpin doesn’t take kindly to traitors or snitches.” Curtis decided to drop the act altogether
“Oh it's only 2 in the morning, we still have so much more time till sunrise. Don’t worry.” the man jeered at him
“So you distribute drugs for the kingpin using your girls. He rewards you with money and power.” his tormentor continued
“And Protection from the law. The new DA wants to jail every single black man in this motherfucking country.”
if the kingpin found out he talked it wouldn’t matter how much he talked, all that mattered was that he did. Might as well tell this asshole about everything anyways, he didn’t feel he could survive one more punch from him.
“You mean pimps. Most Black people are honest hardworking Americans who wouldn’t want to be associated with filth like you! Besides isn’t the new Manhattan DA Mike Pondsmith, a black man. Don’t think you can disgrace an entire race because of your actions.”
Who was this fucker, what the fuck does he fucking know!!!
The cold draft completely numbed his body. He couldn’t take it anymore.
“You fucking prick. This fucking country fucked us so bad. Your fucking people first captured us, then they fed crack to us so we would be hooked on it and then you paint us as the bad guys when we try to survive. You ask me who the real pimps are, It's you! You fucking son of a bitch, what do you know about me. You probably had a great fucking childhood! Two parents telling you how great you’ll be, motherfucker I had a crackhead raise me and a stepfather who would beat my ass if I looked at him wrong. What the fuck do you know what i had to do to make it. Days without food and all that righteous bullshit goes away. All that matters is you get yours. So fuck you and fuck the high horse you fucking sit on!!!” Curtis coughed blood multiple times while making his tirade but he couldn’t stop, he had let thirty years of frustration come out.
His emotions were spiraling out of control, he wasn’t ‘Cool Weather’ anymore.
He let out one more spiteful “Fuck You.” before spitting but it ended up landing on his thigh.
The man again didn’t say anything for some time again. Only silence greeted Curtis’s rage but then..
“You know back in the Indo-Pak war of 1999, we captured some terrorist initiates. They were all about 18. Young men who wouldn’t even be able to drink legally here. They all had their own stories, their justifications for why they waged a war to kill innocents, many of whom their own faith.”
What was he talking about? Indo-Pak war what the fuck was that? He wasn’t good with geography so maybe that was the reason but he hadn’t heard of such a war ever. He knew something about Afghanistan but none whatsoever of an Indo-Pak.
More importantly, what did any of this have to do with anything he was talking about?
“Kashmir is a beautiful place but it’s also unforgivingly cold when it needs to be. So when we needed some crucial information. We didn’t beat them up or put their feet in boiling water. All we did was strip them naked, pour cold water on them routinely and let them freeze their balls off until they gave us what we wanted.”
Oh
“You see where I’m going with this, don't you? They all thought they could endure it, they all thought they were stronger than that but all of them eventually gave up and told us everything they knew. For many of them it was too late, it was either Hypothermia or frostbite that eventually killed them.”
He could feel his body temperature getting colder and colder as the man kept on speaking.
POV - Peter
“I have some regrets over how I've lived my life.” More than he will ever know.
“One of the biggest ones was not saving those young misguided boys, not arguing for a more humane treatment. They might have strapped bombs on kids but that doesn’t mean we had to stoop to their level. “
“Seeing their frozen bodies gave me nightmares for a long time.”
He was right, I was blessed to have May and Uncle Ben raise me and I was sure if they saw me now they would be disappointed if not disgusted.
“I want to believe in you curtis. Believe in the potential of change.” Even Though he lied so much, I knew a man with the potential to change when I saw one. Besides, Kingpin doesn’t seem like the ‘Forgive Snitches’ Type of a guy anyways so I could understand why he did.
“Then let me go.” He said
“If I do, will you go back to pimping? To drug dealing? Answer me honestly, man to man.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“Yeah probably, that's all I know and that’s all I'll ever be.” At Least he was honest about it.
“Then I will kill you!” I was surprised by just how easily those words came out of my mouth.
His body stopped shivering and went still.
I thought he was going to say something brave instead he just relieved himself on the chair.
I don’t blame him, right now I'm a very scary dude.
Braver men than him did much worse when i did things to them. Things I don’t want to do again, I left that life when I quit the military but the military never left me.
“I will give you a shot though.” I said as I turned the car off and threw the keys away with as much force as I could.
Good luck finding that.
“I’ll set you free, never return back to New York City, not even your home Harlem under any circumstances. I’ll know if you do, believe me Curtis. I have my ways.”
I didn’t but I would keep an eye on some of his women and if he ever got back in touch with them again then I meant what i said.
“If you ever go back into a life of crime. If you even jaywalk, I’ll find you and we’ll be having another conversation but it won’t end like this.”
I dropped a satchel near him, he turned his head to the source of the sound anxiously.
“This has all of your stuff. Even your tasteless Rolex which I wanted to yeet when I first saw it. Take my advice Curtis, sell it, get your GED, find a good job and pray to god that we never meet again.”
I took out my pocket knife and proceeded to free him.
POV - Curtis
“This has all of your stuff. Even your tasteless Rolex which I wanted to yeet when I first saw it. Take my advice Curtis, sell it, get your GED, find a good job and pray to god that we never meet again.”
Something broke inside Curtis Mayweather when the man said that. Something that made him whole, something that made him Cool Weather Curtis.
He knew that the man meant his threat completely. Curtis was afraid that he wouldn't be able to control himself, that a life of crime was too enticing and he would fall back into it easily.
Then the words of the mysterious man repeated in his mind.
“Then I will kill you!”
It put the fear of the Holy spirit in him. The sheer confidence with which the man stated his intent to kill him gave him goosebumps.
His bondages came loose and he felt his hands able to move freely again.
The man didn’t say a single word when he freed him!
Curtis removed the bag over his face, as soon as his hands were free. He wanted to look into the eyes of the man who made him pray to god again.
His vision finally restored, he saw his car and a satchel beside him. He saw a trail of his piss on the ground. He saw the huge forest that surrounded him. He saw the muddy road far away.
He saw everything but the man. He wanted to see the face of the man who could inspire such terror in him. What did he look like? How tall was he? Was he really as young as he sounded? Why did he do this?
All these questions would remain unanswered now that the man was nowhere to be seen.
He looked around again, there were heavy duty boot footprints all around him.
The last one ended right behind him, where the man was before he cut the rope and freed him.
He had disappeared the very second he released him, not a single footprint after that.
No footprints leading out to the woods.
No Person could do that.
To disappear like that, It was almost like he was…a…ghost.