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"Yo! What the fuck? You okay man?" I asked him as I gently patted his back. I could barely fucking see in this shit.

Stokeley just kept hacking, which made me want to throw up. when I saw a red tint on his shoes I immediately got scared.

"That's fucking blood vro!" I screamed.

"It's okay man. I know this place pretty well, there some shit downstairs that can help me. Advil or some shit." He said, standing up straight.

What the fuck is Advil going to do?

I screwed my face up at him but before he can see, he turned around and swiftly started to walk towards the back of the club.

So much for coughing up blood until you die.

We were zig-zagging through people and we finally got to a door that led to the downstairs of the establishment.

I started to play with my ring as we walked down the steps.

"Are you sure you're all okay Stoke? I don't think Advil is really going to help." I reasoned as we got to the last step.

"Nah, my head is pounding, it would help, can I see your phone? I need a flashlight." He asked. I went in my back pocket and gave it to him. I stood by the steps as he turned my flashlight on.

I noticed this room was really big. It kind of had a warehouse feel to it. I heard him grunt as he turned on the light.

As soon as he turned the light on, this nigga threw my phone against the wall.

As my phone bounced off the wall, it split into two pieces and glass was littered on the floor where my phone as rudely tossed.

"What the fuck was that for-" my sentence was cut off when I got a mean punch to the back of my head. That right there just made me want to pass out.

I turned around and it felt like hell broke loose. My fist started flying and I kept looking over my shoulder to see who else I had to fuck up. There were boxes all over the floor and certain corners of the room were as dark as night.

Mainly the middle of the room was lit by one hanging light.

I got another punch to my face and I stumbled back, trying to gain my balance but there was nothing for me to grab on to so I just fell onto my back.

My whole face was enveloped in pain. I feel like my body was thrown into a bucket of acid. I feel pins and needles running from my toes to my skull.

"Stokeley, are you okay-" a rag was put over my nose but I forcefully grabbed the hand and held my breath. I rolled my body over a got up as fast as I could.

I was about to start fighting again when I felt an ice cold barrel on my temple.

"Sit in the chair-"

"Fuck you and that chair!" I yelled, coughing in the middle of my sentence.

I heard the man holding the gun flick the safety off.

"Suck my dick." I grumbled while having a seat. Ropes and all other types of foolishness started to get tied onto me. I tried to fight back, but it was no use. My jeans weren't fashionably ripped anymore. There were gaping holes in the material and my legs were cut and scraped.

"Where- where's my best friend?" I asked. My head was starting to pound like my brain was trying to escape the hard and protective barrier my skull provided. I closed my eyes and tried not to focus on what's going on.

They probably want my money or something. I have nothing on me though.

"Open your eyes, bitch." I never opened my eye so fast, and I was greeted with that son of a bitch.

"Trippie, get me out of this shit, what the fuck even is this?" I practically yelled at him, struggling against the roped that were burning into my skin as I was rubbing on them.

"Stokeley, are you fucking serious?" I heard a different male voice say. I looked up and strained my eyes to see a darker man walking down the steps.

"Why the fuck are you down here? How did you even know we were here?" Stokeley asked him. I can't even see him. Where is he?

"I fucking saw ya'll run down here. You're really about to set up your best friend?" he asked him. The man's accent was so familiar that my mouth ran dry.

"Tank? What do you mean?" I asked, looking for Ski. My left I felt like someone stapped me in it, so I kept my eyelids low on that one.

I found ski in the corner, standing to the far right of me. Tank ran down the stairs and towards him. The corner over there was dark. Real dark. Why the fuck...

"Stokeley, this is all you?" I asked, my voice cracking.

I felt like someone was sitting on my chest. I started to cough and heave as I'm realizing what's happening as of right now. I feel my legs start to go numb and all I hear is Stokeley's yelling.

"Why did you even come down here? Fucking dick rider!" I heard him scream, followed by a boom, which is probably from his pistol.

I opened my eyes a bit and saw that he dragged my friend's body to the corner.

A tear slipped out of my right eye as my breathing kept on getting more and more uneven.

My throat got dry and it felt like I was swallowing salt and shells. I can't move.

Why can't I move?

I keep trying to cough and it won't work.

Please fucking save me.

I forced my eyes open to take another look at my surroundings. Ski was here. Trippie was here. Two men were laying on the floor and the other guy was staring at me all angry.

"Why?" I simply asked.

"Why what?" Stokeley asked me as he put the Hennessy bottle to his lips.

"Put that nasty shit down, why the fuck are you doing this?" I asked him with an attitude. I felt a liquid splash onto my face. I couldn't do anything about it but lift my shoulder to wipe my eyes.

I want to throw up right now.

Not because of what he just did, but because of this plan he made. Why would he even-

"Why is this happening to me right now?" I asked.

"Shut up, pussy." Trippie laughed, putting some candy in his mouth.

When I get out of this situation, best believe everyone in this shit is going to fucking rot.

"Fuck you," I said, darting my eyes- well, eye, to Trippie. "I don't even know how you're related to Imani, you act nothing like her." I finished my sentence off.

This made him angry, I can tell it did.

He took the back of his gun and drew his arm back-

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