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Warning! This story contains racially sensitive words, social commentary, and violent wording. I do not promote this behavior in any way, rather, my story is about the punishment of evil, and much more. Viewer's discretion is advised. King stumbled across the train tracks, the gravel crunching in their shoes. A briefcase dangled near his hip, smacking against their body. Though the air was cold, racing knives against the huge black boy’s skin, he did not feel anything. He felt only confusion, anger and happiness. Hey, golly! King turned around, time seeming to speed up again. Behind him, stood one of his friends. A small, crazy-ass white guy who shot, stole and didn’t ask any questions. His name was Tommy, or Tom for short. “Hey, cream face.” King’s breath turned the air into white icicles, which flew away in the wind. It was as if he was breathing cobwebs. “You got the shit?” The curly haired boy giggled, as he massaged his gun with his trigger-happy finger. “The fuck didja even get