20. Bounty and the Reaper Pt. 2 (Demons Feast)

[Intro] Blacked-out vic' rolling toward Bridgeview, first time a hit sits on my own head. [demons laugh] Nervous in the gut, but the armor feels right. Never been the hunted before. How do you hunt a ghost? Thoughts crawling back through every body I laid down — some good, some just necessary. Chicago still mine. Tonight the Snake learns what happens when you put money on the Reaper. [Verse 1] 2-94 north fades into city glow, mind drifting back to that Berwyn abandoned house off Ridgeland Fent cutter twitching on the Cicero tracks, bare hands only, Kari’s call answered clean Good deed in a dirty game — fiends stopped dropping from his poisoned blend But the blood on my palms don’t wash, the screams still echo in my head [silent demons whisper] Steel-toe Timbs press the pedal slow, demons in the shadows like walking dead Nervous energy hums low — first bounty ever, yet I’m still the one they’ll never end [Verse 2] Warehouse off Pulaski and 22nd flashes next — four bodies stacked neat, gas poured, flames rose high All armed, all gone, bare hands for the first two, then the Beretta and pump when they let iron fly Vest took those shots like it was built for that exact night, chokes locked perfect, no room to cry Good for the Chi', bad for my soul — but the reaper don’t apologize [silent demons call] Pull into Pole-katz back lot, 7337 West 100, kill the engine two rows deep Hours of waiting ahead, blacked-out vic' my silent tomb while the bass leaks [Break] [silent demons: …] Nervous… but ready. Chicago raised me. Chicago owns me. Demons, following in the shadows to remind me they'll never leave me alone. Time to remind them who owns the shadows. I sneak out the vic' to his ride, digital hacking to get inside. [silent demons: …] [Verse 3] Three hours tick by slow, windows fogged, night vision visor down, watching every shadow move Dancers spill out laughing, but no Snake yet — patience is the reaper’s truest groove Thoughts turn darker: every op I ghosted in the Chi, every whisper I checked, every life I took Some fiends saved, some lives erased — balance on a razor, never one-sided in this book SUV stays cold, cloak draped over shoulders, gloves on, knuckles cold steel Then he strolls out alone, keys swinging, half-drunk off the lights and the feel [Verse 4] Door clicks shut, my forearm snakes around his throat from behind, iron-tight surprise He gasps, jerks, hand claws for the pistol — I squeeze one heartbeat longer then ease “I got it,” I whisper slow in his ear, voice like graveyard dirt, “now drive.” Grip loosens just enough he can breathe 2-94 south, tires humming black, knuckles white on the wheel, sweat rolling down his neck like defeat Passing trucks cast fleeting flashes on his skin, pulse racing frantic under weight of my unrelenting gaze Plan locks ironclad with every mile in silence, no mercy on this one-way path through the night’s haze [Break 2] (Screaming demons: GRRRAAAAAHHH! HE’S FINISHED!!) Car still rolling south, Reaper’s eyes locked on the road like death itself Snake’s voice cracks in pure terror — “¡Pana, no me mates, por favor! ¡Tengo familia, coño, no hagas esto, te juro que pago lo que sea!” — pisses himself in the seat (Demonic screams erupt wildly: AAAAHHH! LOOK AT HIM BREAK! HAHAHA!!) Fear thick enough to cut, demons feasting on every whimper, no mercy left in the Reaper’s domain [screaming demons] [Verse 5] Exit 1-27th and Laramie, left onto Cal-Sag trail, gravel popping under tires like old bones Trees swallow the headlights, moonlight cuts branches, wind whispering over chrome Barrel of his own gun under his chin, I make him taste the steel he ordered on my soul “Why you think putting money on the Reaper was smart?” I ask calm, cause I'm in control He stutters, begs, spittin' everywhere — I wrap his finger, press the trigger slow like a dog Single shot rips through the roof of his mouth, body slumps, blood mist on the dash, red fog! [demonic soul scream] [Outro] Staged perfect, gun in his lap, note typed in his sloppy style — suicide for the streets to read Wiped every print, cloak flowing behind as I walk the trail, night air clean Relief hits slow one less snake gone. More work waiting, might get a bigger target on on my back now but oh fucking well, Chicago is my city. They come? Let ‘em. The Reaper still stands tall