Werewolf In Harlem

Chapter Three:

Cuddy Buddy

Trey and DeMario stalked around the house with their guns cocked and loaded. It was quiet and dark and seemed empty, but they kept themselves alert. They won't be caught lacking, especially now.

This was what they did. Both formally in the military they had keen stealth skills. Having been honorably discharged they should've been able to find jobs easily, but they were hungry. They wanted to be set for life and for their families to be set. A life of honor brought them into a life of drugs, theft, and murder.

Trey peeled into one of the windows and took note that no one was inside. He nodded his head to his partner to confirm his suspicions. With a responding nod the headed inside to search the house. One of they lil niggas told them he saw them pull up in a black van with a body - a live one - with a bag over the head. They had no doubt it was YG. So moving as quick as possible Trey and D made their way over to what they now know as one of Jay's trap houses.

It was around 4 in the morning and as they crept in they saw people scattered all around sleeping. Majority of the women were naked. It was just nasty to look at. If this was how Jay conducted business, no wonder he wasn't doing too well. Trey scrunched up his nose at the smell also, but continued along with the sweep. DeMario headed up stairs while Trey finished with the first level. He found a door that led to what looked like the basement. Obviously.

He waited for D to come back before making his way down. It was dark with an even more pungent smell than upstairs. Slowly they made their way to the single light which illuminated a body sitting lonesome in a chair. The walls were concrete and probably sound proof. The blood and other bodily fluids on the floor proved that there had been severe torture done in this room.

The body in the chair didn't move an inch. It worried the boys. If it was YG - and by the missing finger it was - then he was either unconscious or dead. Hopefully the former.

DeMario snatched the bag off and confirmed that it was definitely they nigga. He was beat up and bruised. Blood was smeared all around his face from several cuts. It looked as though they pistol whipped him or used brass knuckles. D pressed to fingers against his neck and sighed. Trey looked at him expectantly and when he shook his head he let out a frustrated curse.

"Check again." Trey said.

"Nigga I checked already. The more I check ain't gon bring'm back."

"So we just supposed to tell Dave he dead?"

"Yes. Can't 'Weekend and Bernie's' this shit. He gon know."

"Yeah, you right." He untied his former friend's wrists and ankles from the chair. A phone started to ring in the empty room. "That you?"

"No. Look like it's YG pocket."

Sure enough his left pocket was lit up. He took the phone out and examined the name on the screen. It read "unknown number". He quickly pressed answer and put it to his ear.

"Who is this?"

"I expected someone else but I guess you two niggas'll do." A voice chuckled on the other line.

He said two niggas like he knew could see them. Trey looked around for the camera and saw a small, almost invisible speck deep in one of the corners. Without a second thought he shot it out of existence.

"That was childish, Tremaine." He said.

"The fuck do you want Jay?" He asked while putting him on speaker.

"Tell that nigga Dave that I'm on his head. That high horse he on? Imma shoot that bitch."

"Why you on my nigga dick so hard? He take ya bitch?" D asked.