Disclaimer: I do not own the Grand Theft Auto series.
A/N: You wouldn't believe how randomly-minded I felt when writing this...is 'randomly-minded' even an actual description?
This is totally weird, though, and alot of things are left unexplained, or make no sense whatsoever, but please enjoy anyway, okay?
Dimitri Rascalov was seriously at the end of his rope. His body was aching all over, his handsome black suit was stained in his own fresh blood, and a very angry Yugoslavian man was aiming a gun at his head. Today has certainly not been one of his best. He was late for his lunch at that fancy restaurant, too, and he'll probably have to reschedule later.
Still, despite the situation, he had a hidden trump card, but he couldn't risk giving himself away, so he played it safe and put on the 'pitiful pleading victim' act to seal the deal. It was only a matter of time before the entire city will be destroyed, and his revenge on the entire human race will truly begin. Everything was going exactly as planned.
"It was a long time that I pissed you off!! Forget about it!!!" Dimitri whined loudly, trying his best to sound like he was near tears. He had never looked so ragged in all of his days. Niko Bellic's expression remained fierce; he wasn't going to be swayed by this man's words any longer. In the back of his mind, Dimitri was almost doubling over with laughter due to the fact that he'll come out on top in the end. Not even Mikhail could have foreseen this. The poor bastard had always suspected something, but when he could have stopped it, and possibly save millions of lives in the process, he didn't even lift a finger. Dimitri was lucky that his partner was such a spineless piece of shit.
Dimitri took in a deep breath. "You're fucking over ALOT OF PEOPLE by killing me!!!"
With no further hesitation, Niko pulled the trigger, and a single bullet tore deeply into Dimitri's chest, knocking him backwards onto the floor. At that instant, Dimitri's life left him. His corpse laid in a position that resembled a 'K', and Niko spate spitefully upon Dimitri's pale cheek, the deed finally done. He had finally obtained his desired vengeance after all these years. Niko bent down and pressed his fingers against Dimitri's neck; he was dead.
"I should have done that a long time ago," Niko muttered, wiping a tiny drip of blood off his hairy chin, "Good-bye...Dimitri..."
Niko turned his back to the body, and began to walk away...when he heard someone laugh. It was an unnaturally shrill laugh, and the very sound of it made Niko's blood run cold.
"Did you really think...it'd be that easy to get rid of me, Niko Bellic?"
Niko spun around, and the color drained from his face as he now found himself staring into the cold, lifeless eyes with Dimitri Rascalov, the very man who had died at his hand only seconds ago. Dimitri raised a balled fist, and then opened it, revealing a blood-drenched bullet in his palm. Niko's mouth fell agape. Dimitri smiled widely, his large white teeth sparkling. There was silence, and then...Niko screamed.
"MONSTER!!!" Niko took out his pistol, and pressed the barrel against Dimitri's forehead...but he suddenly become enveloped in darkness...and the only sound he could hear was Dimitri's insane laughter, drifting further and further away...the stench of freshly-paved asphalt filled Niko's nostrils...his pistol dissipated into nothingness...and his eyes slowly shut...
It was around 5 p.m. that the first tsunami warning appeared on every television set in the entirety of Liberty City. It ordered for all citizens to head for high ground, most preferably the rooftops of their apartment complexes. Total chaos erupted in the streets as people abandoned their cars and dashed for their lives towards the nearest buildings they could find. It was at about 6:15 p.m. that two helicopters flew out to the shores of Happiness Island to investigate the strange occurrences taking place there. This was the location that the tsunami warnings had originated from.
At 6:18 p.m. on the dot, both helicopters are completely destroyed. During a time between 6:23 to 7:00, a heavy fog befalls the surrounding perimeter of the city. Two, large orb-like eyes could be seen peering through the thick mist. It slowly approaches. Screams erupt from all over the city. A red-and-white-stripped bucket of fried chicken has been left unattended upon a city bench. Dimitri Rascalov, standing proudly atop the head of the Statue of Happiness, takes a long drag on his cigarette. Niko Bellic's body lays beside his feet. He is still alive, but unconscious. A loud, inhuman groan is heard far off in the distance, almost similar to that of an elephant's bellowing screech.
At 7:10 p.m., Pacific Standard Time, Dimitri's beloved beast, his "son", born from a combination of advanced technology and his own DNA, has finally reached the shore. A woman screams.
In an instant, the clock still at 7:10 p.m., the city bursts into flames, and the screams suddenly stop. The flames rise and rise, higher and higher, like a pair of hands reaching for the heavens. Men, women, children, pets...they all burn to ashes as their pleas for help go unanswered. A large government office tower explodes, burying the ground below with tons upon tons of shrapnel, metal and glass. Another building explodes, and then another. A heavy smell of smoke fills the air. Dimitri laughs. Everything went out smoothly, after all. There is still a hole in his chest, fresh blood trickling out of it. He is going to die any moment now, but he wanted to make sure it wasn't until he finishes witnessing this grand spectacle. Even the slightest breath hurts.
There is no hope left for the people of Liberty City. Not anymore.
At 7:11 p.m., the population of this once grand city has plunged down to a single-digit number: 2. Dimitri Rascalov and Niko Bellic. They are the only survivors. Then, at 7:13 p.m., Dimitri kicks Niko Bellic off of the statue, sneering joyfully, and the population count dwindles down to 1. Not a single person had survived this massacre. The most radical step of his master plan now complete, Dimitri disappears into the inky black darkness, his "son" following alongside him.
Finally, at 8:00 p.m., Dimitri collapses to the ground, and the bullet wound takes it toll. Wishing his son good luck in this empty world he calls "home", Dimitri finally passes on.
His "son" buries Dimitri's corpse underneath the beach sand, and wails a tearful good-bye as it crawls off into the murky waters in search of the next land to destroy in the name of its father...
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"...Stop reading so much goddamn fan fiction, Dimitri, or you'll end up as pitiful as Miley FUCKING Cyrus..." Mikhail grunted as he handed the papers back to his trusted second-in-command. That was the most obtuse story he had ever read in his entire life.
Dimitri frowned. "You think I ain't good enough to write fan fiction, old man?! You think I ain't good enough?!"
"Well...I mean, this is better than about 90% of all fanfiction ever written, but still...no, you're not good enough..."
"DAMMIT!!!" Dimitri stormed off up the stairs, headed into his room, and sat down at his computer to make another attempt at writing a story...