CHICAGO, IL

"EARLIER THIS AFTERNOON, ONE MAN ON CORSSI GAS STATION WAS FOUND BURNT ALIVE BY HIS CAR. OFFICALS SAY IT WAS A GANG RELATED INCIDENT MADE BY SOUTHSIDES MOST KNOWN RUTHLESS GANG, K9's and WESTSIDES MOST KNOWN, R.O.W. IT WAS SA-,"

"Turn that shit off." De'monte, K9's leader, said in an oddly composed tone. He didn't even seem bothered. He sat with his chair faced the other way.

He stared at the four niggas faces who made a big fuckin' mistake. "Didn't I tell you I was gon' handle that shit?" He gestured to the TV, referring to what that news reporter just uttered.

"W-we-," de'monte shot the ground by the nigga who spoke feet. "Don't speak for them." He pointed at the other two who were suspended from the ceiling but upside down.

"Th-they were talkin' too much shit...and I got sick of it — *cough* *cough* — can you please let us down?" His eyes were red and eyes slowly closed while the blood rushed to his head.

"Hm."

He got up from his seat and in the corner of the dark room was a metal bat, heavy to touch and thick as a rock. He dragged it against the floor and the one in the middle started to jerk, trying to get free of the chains.

"De-e! Please ma-," the sound of the bat cracking his skull echoed throughout the room. "I got sick of it." He repeated what the nigga had said.

"I get sick of a bunch of shit but you don't see me goin' around fuckin' up my own money, do you?" The niggas head started dripping with blood onto the dusty ass floor.

"Drop his ass." De'monte ordered and the chains rattled and the sound of the body hit the floor. De'monte pushed his body over with the bat and hit him a few more times.

"I hate makin' an example out of people but when you fuck up, it's bound to happen. I genuinely don't know what the fuck yall were thinkin' for real." He walked over to the other suspended nigga.

"And now, they gon' fuck up my shit cause they think I den had shit with this. This is why yall niggas listen to ME , why I'm in charge! Cause of dumbass shit like this," he brought the bat up and slammed it to the dudes ribcage.

He jerked against the cuffs and cried out in pain. "IM SORRY IM SORRY!" He begged and de'monte shook his head and pulled him to the ground and slammed the bat over and over and over again onto his head.

He soon stopped screamin' and it became quiet except the cries from the one sittin' in the chair.

De'monte breathed and crouched in front of him, putting the bloody bat over his shoulder and staring into the niggas eyes.

"...I'm sorry.." he cried and de'monte smirked at his right hand, truth. "Since you want to make choices for other niggas around this bitch, I'll let you choose how you want to leave." He got back up and gestured for truth to handle him.

"Now, I gotta go make sure these niggas know their place." He said and two men followed behind while truth was left in there.

♱

"Them niggas just hit a warehouse," Ta'jae spoke as they sat in the Black Escalade. De'monte turned his head that way and shook his head.

"Guess no talkin' finna happen," he said and pulled out his phone texting someone. "Whoever did it, I want em by the end of this day."

"I got you." Ta'jae spoke and pulled something up on his tablet. "This they brother. We been keepin' an eye on the gang, specifically but wasn't able to get much from them. So, we started followin' people they knew and he goes over there mainly." He finished and de'monte nodded.

"Where he at now?" He asked. "At this time of day..." he checked the time. "At work. He work at one of the strip joints. Candy Factory, is the name."

"I'll go take a look. Name?"

"Caleb." He responded with.

"Aigh'." He stared at Ta'jae.

Ta'jae stared back and lifted an eyebrow when he didn't say anything else.

"Oh." He said and got out the car.

♱

Arriving to the scene, lights flashed outside in purple, a long line that stretched from the front door to another block. But de'monte damn sure wasn't waitin'.

He ain' really go to clubs, shit, that's how he found his addiction to dope. He's been escaping anything that'll put him back in that state he was in, he was always hotheaded and just did shit without any thought.

That's how he got the name demon, from some people. But he's been clean for three years now and he'd be damned if he fucked that up again.

He was only here to meet the Caleb nigga and that was it.

"Ayeee, to the back of the line champ." A bouncer stopped him, he was clearly bigger than de'monte but size didn't matter to him.

De'monte pulled out a 100 dollar bill without looking at the man. He laughed and took the piece of change. "Enjoy yourself." He said and let him pass.

As soon as he walked in ass, titties and dollars were flying everywhere. The rap music was blaring and it smelled of weed and sweat.

He loved that smell, reminded him of sex everytime. "Heyy handsome," a busty woman came up to him, rubbing on his chest. "Want a dance?" She asked and she had on a bikini that showed everything.

He looked the girl up and down and grabbed her waist, leaning into her ear. "Nah, I'm here for a Caleb." He whispered into her ear.

"Ohhh, okay. You want a private room or just a dance from him in the open?" She asked him and twirled her body so that way her ass was on his dick.

He didn't bother acknowledging what she did and smirked. "I'll take that private room." He said and she grabbed his hand and led him through the crowd of starving animals.

She pulled the curtain back and pushed his chest lightly so he'll sit. "Wait here." She said and turned and walked out.

De'monte crossed his legs and hummed to himself as he waited but soon got bored and walked around the room. It was a medium sized room and it was decorated in rich red fabric.

It was nice, it had paintings of naked men and women on the walls. He stared at this one painting though, a girl was tied with chains and a man stood over her.

"You lookin' for me?" He heard a sensual voice and turned around to see a man bigger than him in nothing but lingerie underwear on with fishnets and black heels.

He had his hair tied to the back and his lips were big and full, de'monte fixed the hard on he had in his pants. Adjusting himself.

Caleb noticed and smirked, walking to him. "I'll give you a dance. Sit." He grabbed de'monte's calloused hand and gently pushed him into a seat.

In the middle of the room stood a small stage with a pole in the middle of the room.

"Underwear on is 50$ but off...175$." He licked his lips. "How much is it just to talk to you?" De'monte looked the man up and down and smiled.

"Mm. It depends," he sat on de'montes lap and caressed his face. De'monte put his hand gently around his waist.

"How much you willin' to pay to get a word out of me?" He asked and de'monte smirked. "How much you want?" He asked.

Caleb just shrugged. "That's not an amount," de'monte said and Caleb smacked his lips.

"Fine. 200."

"Okay, deal." He could've easily got information out of him another way but this man was...different.

"I was just playin'," he tried to stand up but de'monte pulled his back down. "Doesn't matter, I'll give you 200. Let's talk."

This wouldn't have took me so long. I was just procrastinating