I've had this story in my mind for a while, mostly after reading some of the other really high-quality GTA stories for the fake AH on various fanfiction sites, I have to admit it helped inspire me. I'm going to explain some rules of the story before it starts, if you have any questions or feedback feel free to leave it. Alright first thing, the only relationships in this story will be cannon IRL ones, sorry fans of mavin and rayan, but it's not happening. Next thing, this isn't a sex story, I may mention prostitutes (its still Los Santos) but I'm not going into detail. Third point, the personalities of the characters in the story will match the personality of their RL counterpart as close as possible, while fitting the story. (Example, seananners personality will be kind closer to how he acts in his murder videos, than how he acts in his rare live videos.) Not all gangs mentioned in this story will be youtubers, some will just be generics I use to serve as an enemy. Alright with those basic rules in mind, I'll get to the story.
It's said that there are three kinds of people in Los Santos, the ones who are part of a gang, the civilians just trying to struggle through their jobs in one of the most dangerous cities on the planet, and the dead guys. Markiplier was one of a few rare exceptions to that rule. Mark leaned back into the chair, easing his way into the soft leather, as a grin lit up his face. "I might know something about them, won't even cost you much. What do you want to know?" He was playing it for dramatic effect of course, he knew everyone. If they operated in Los Santos, and were worth knowing, he knew them. In fact he had probably shared a beer with them at some point or another. That was part of how he had managed to stay independent from a gang for so long, he was easy to like, and he was useful. When you wanted to know something about one of the many crime lords in Los Santos, you talked to Markiplier, he could find out anything about anyone. He could tell you what the head of the Fake AH crew had eaten for dinner last night, usually because he had been at the table. He made quite the good living off his brain, selling information could be a damn lucrative business, with way less danger than robbing banks.
The voice on the other end of the phone crackled into mark's ear. "Tell who they are, and how long they've been in the area, I don't like new people on our turf and if they keep this up they're walkin into a shallow grave." Geoff had a hangover, talking to him was always a problem when he had a hangover, Mark decided he had better drop the theatrics and get to the point. "They call themselves Braindamage, far as I can tell they're a totally new gang, buncha young idiots with a big ego that think they're invincible. They specialize in drugs and petty robberies, just your usual small-time crap, you guys shouldn't have any problem taking them out." That cheered Geoff up considerably, blowing away a group of small-timers would be a good chance for the guys to let off some steam. "Good. Thanks for the info, should I just wire the money through to the usual account?" "Nah, It's about time you guy's got another freebie, you're some of my best customers man. Anyway, if that's our business done, I gotta go, tell Ray I say hi." "Alright Mark I'll tell him, thanks again for the info." The phone went dead, and Mark set it down on the table next to him. He was going to enjoy watching the news tomorrow, the Fake AH always had a way with explosions. Who knew, maybe they'd even get out one of those old tanks they had locked up, it had been a while since they had someone easy to blast at. The phone started ringing again, and Mark went to pick it up, he had a feeling today was going to be a busy day.
"Sure it hurts now, but just imagine how wonderful it'll be in heaven." Adam Montoya shifted, moving his arms so that the handgun was in a more comfortable place. It was a good night out, beautiful stars above, solid Earth below, and a Glock 22 nestled firmly in his hand. "Just think about it, all those beautiful stars will be all the closer, unless you believe that stars are angels, than you'll be one of them, maybe I'll look up there tomorrow night and see you up there, I wonder if you'll be part of a constellation, would you like that?" The bound and gagged man on the hill beside let out a muffled cry, frantically trying to break the tape that held his hands together. Adam loved this part, the hours and hours of mental anguish he could put these people through was better than any drug, and when it came to completely breaking people, nobody was better than him. One time he hadn't even needed to pull the trigger, the man just bit his own tongue after a couple hours of Adam talking to him and bled to death in the chair. The feeling was at its height now, the captive was at his peak terror. It was time to end this. "I do so love the stars," Adam mumbled, sitting up and resting the silencer of his gun against the bound man's head, "When you get up there, I hope you're nice and bright." Adam pulled the trigger, grinning in manic ecstasy as the river of red trickled downhill. He calmly got to his feet, and headed back home. He didn't need to get rid of the body, nobody could ever catch him. The last two cops who had tried were fertilizing his vegetables right now. He was invincible, a terrifying specter of the night, who left behind a trail of tear-stained corpses. He could never be stopped, people whispered about him in bars when they thought he wasn't there. Of course they didn't know his real name, they knew him only by the name he left on his victims as a calling card. Seananners.
