Taste of Melanin

Radical

IMPORTANT: While I know you all may enjoy these shorts and consequently want more parts, the purpose of this book was to circumvent my frequent writers block while keeping you all satiated with some form of content. As such, I may plan to write more but end up stuck on a blank for weeks.

When this happens we ALL must simply move on. Please do not message me about them or berate me as this will accomplish the opposite of your goal. I know it's not malicious, but it is not helping. Thank you and love you all!!! <3
—

Dread ran his hand over his face before leaning his head side to side, attempting to release the ache that'd settled in the muscle.

"Why do we have to go to these stupid ass events?" Kiel grumbled as he eyed the people filing into the grand theater.

"Because the higher ups have an image to uphold." Bullet answered as he gripped the edge of his belt.

They stood in black uniforms, their only identification a red skull patch placed on the right breast plate of the shirt. The three made up an elite military group known as the Red Skulls. What the public knew about them fell short outside of the fact that they should show the upmost respect when they seen the emblem.

People avoided eye contact, their nods of acknowledgment all they seemed to muster as they shuffled past the men. Their stature along would have commanded such respect considering they each stood at 6'4 with the necessary muscle to do their jobs.

Dread watched silently, his eyes always on alert for a threat. A man came up to them, his eyes wide in a childlike fascination. "Woah, you guys are so cool. Much respect for our front line."

He gave a sloppy salute that would have annoyed Dread had he not spent the last 3 years receiving such gestures.

"Move along." Bullet spoke for them. His tone had the man scurrying back with the crowd.

"Ah, gentleman. Representing us well I hope." Richard, their commander, spoke causing all three to stiffen.

"Sir, yes, sir." They spoke in a harsh union.

"Good. The performers will need an escort to the back and since you're our special guests you'll be providing it. Remember what we represent on North Ridge Base." He eyed the three for a moment, a silent warning in his eyes, before he turned at the sound of a pair of heels.

"I hope everything is going to your liking Ms. Bell." Richard smiled brightly at the small blonde woman.

Dread tuned out their conversation as he eyed the empty lobby. The grand entrance and spotless tiles reflected the bright lights. The theater had been a newer addition to their base, but one that many of the soldiers loved as it allowed them more time away from training.

"Alright, here they come." The woman's chipper voice brought him back to their presence.

A group of individuals walked from the entrance towards them, their chitter dying down as they took in the large men standing by the front doors. Dread quickly eyed the crowd on impulse, memorizing their faces.

Per usual, they all seemed to downcast their eyes and shuffle away from the men. "These are our finalists for the 2020 international championships."