Title: Blue Skies Bring Tears
Rating: PG-13
Contact: My e-mail is in my profile. You're also free to IM me.
Disclaimer: Grand Theft Auto and all it's characters belong to Rockstar games and all those other people. I am not making money off of this. And the title "Blue Skies Bring Tears" belongs to Smashing Pumpkins and all their people.
Summary: A short ficlet. "The Guy" finally dies
Feedback: …A girl's best friend! (Why do you think we always ask if an outfit looks good together :P )
Note: They need to give "The Guy" a name! I didn't want to flat out say "The Guy" throughout the entire story 'cause it would take away from the overall effect, and it was damn hard!
--Also, does anyone know what color uniforms the cops wear? I wanted to say black, but "boy in blue" kept coming to mind. ;
Thanks: I would like to thank Chris for helping me out with that certain word I couldn't think of! You're great, ya know that?

There once was a dark man who ruled a broken city. He was a wicked and merciless man. He watched the fires burn and the people cry through haunting black eyes. Though his words were silent, he spoke through the barrel of a gun. He was the cold killer of that ruled Liberty City.

One day, the killer decided to take walk through the worn streets of his making. He had hopes of releasing some frustration that had been gathering – it had been a while since he'd hurt anyone. He eyed the passerby's with his cold eyes. Some gasped as he crossed their path, others grinned and nodded at him with frightening familiarity. He scanned through the crowds, waiting the moment, signaling the start of his terror. He was waiting for the right moment.

Through the overpopulated streets the wicked man caught sight of a family, a father, a mother, and their two children. The American dream. It was such a peaceful sight. They were unsuspecting, caught up in the giddy adventures of the day.

The wicked man knew that this was the right moment.

Quicker than the eye could follow, the man drew out a pistol and shot down the family. The children first, for he loved the look the parents got as they watched their dear, dear children reach such a terrible fate. They soon joined their spawn. People on the street screamed, scrambling away, survival being their only concern.

Black and white cars screeched to a stop at the scene. Men in blue suits poured around the man, their guns gleaming in the sunlight.

"Freeze!"
"If you make one move, I'm taking you down!"
"Drop the gun!"

Was he to think that he would be taken down by them? He had handled cops before. They were not as intelligent as he, and they were held down by the rules of society. The man grinned wickedly. He slowly rose his gun in the air…

"Stop! Don't! I swear, I'll sho—" Before the pig could finish the sentence, blood was sputtering from his chest. That next instant shots rang through the air of Liberty. Deafening sounds of guns going off, one after the other. Only one man was to make it out alive.

The wicked man dropped his gun and clutched his chest, pain crossing his features. He took a few steps, determined to leave the scene. Then his body gave out, the cold truth of invincibility sinking in. Still, the man refused to give up. He dragged himself from the street, and into a patch of grass near the water. His limbs no longer wished to support his weight, so he lay on his back, resting for now. His dark eyes gazed upon the bluest sky he had ever seen.

It was such a lovely day to die. Not a cloud interrupted the blue… the beautiful light blue.

Slowly, the man fought the sinking feeling that was seeping through him. Suddenly he couldn't seem to move. His body denied his request to escape the consequences of today's bloodshed. It was then that the man realized the truth – he was going to die here. Oh, the irony of it – a family and their killer both meeting the same fate, and on such a lovely day. Wasn't it supposed to rain the day the villain finally meet his bitter fate?

Slowly darkness overtook the evil, wicked man. His last breath left his body, and his cold blood stopped flowing. The tyrant had finally fallen.

People had started to gather around the scene. Families cried, sad and bitter over the deaths. For everyone would be missed, except one man. Nobody cared if they ever saw his black eyes again.

Finally, one man braved walking over to the tyrant's unmoving body. He lay sprawled out, staining the grass a deep red. His eyes were open wide, those terrible black eyes were a hollow shell of the evil that once lived. Upon his face he wore a look of blissful and utter serenity.

…Blue skies bring tears…