TROUBLE.

The Unraveling

Listen to the song in the media for a heightened experience.

August 16th, 2022

"Pull around back?"

"Fuck that. Let them niggas see us comin'."

Slim and Risky lead their army of men on to Odin's territory, once the sun had gone down. Four black SUVs– all holding four men each, sat on each side of the warehouse that set far back from the main road. There wasn't much around. A gas station or two so Slim figured they could get away fast without prying eyes. They'd cased the perimeter and there was no one on watch outside the warehouse. That made things easy for now but Slim knew better than to think that would last long.

He and Risky got out of their truck and the other men followed suit, moving to congregate behind the building. The back door was less secured so that was their entry point.

"Aight we go in here do what we gotta do and get the fuck on. Don't use no more bullets than you need to. No shootin in the air no show boatin'. Just bodies. Leave Tré and Odin to me doe." Slim gave them the rundown and they all listened with intent. He'd made sure to commend them for their loyalty and bravery before this moment. He didn't need anyone going soft on him.

"We go in quiet. When that first shot hit, don't freeze up. Go crazy." He ordered.

"Hell yeah. Let's fuck these niggas up." Risky's malicious grin made Slim do a double take.

"This trigger happy nigga gon' be alright. Y'all just remember what I said." He finalized. Some of their men laughed while others remained stoic.

This for D.C."

All the men stepped back and let the designated locksmith, Rome, pick the lock on the door and knock the padlock off. Quietly, they entered into a dark warehouse. It was quiet, way too quiet. They all had their guns drawn but they hadn't a clue where to aim, until footsteps could be heard nearing them.

"Took y'all long enough." Slim's bones chilled at the sound of his voice.

"Better late than never, right? We ain't come to talk."

"Oh I know but you gone have to if you wanna get outta here alive." Odin's voice oozed arrogance as the lights loudly switched on revealing all of his men lining every wall with guns pointed at Slim and his measly 16. There were at least 25 of Odin's men all ready and waiting to shoot.  Slim scanned all of their faces and his blood boiled, spotting Tremaine in the line up.

"Have a seat, son."

"Fuck you and fuck him." Slim pointed his gun at the both of them, wanting so badly to pull th trigger but not wanting to be responsible for having all 16 of his soldiers killed. They had to have some survivors.

Odin laughed pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Wow. Is that any way to talk to your father?  Did I not help you?"

"You helped yourself. I don't owe you shit."

Odin looked back at Tremaine.

"See what I'm sayin'? Blood don't mean a thang no more."

"Nigga, you ain't never been my family!"