Welcome to my first Saints Row story. Inspired by the magnum opus that is AzzyG367's "Saints Row IV – My Version", I decided to write about my OCs' adventures.
With that being said, let us begin. Without further ado…
"SUB-SAINTS: STILWATER TAKEOVER"
CHAPTER 1: IN THE BEGINNING, PART 1
Stilwater Juvenile Correctional Facility, a few years after the yacht explosion in SR1…
I waited in my cell, alone and shivering due to the bitter cold of the air. I detested being in here.
Suddenly, I heard my door opening. I got off my bed to see a police officer opening up my cell door. I looked at him distastefully, and he could tell.
"Alright, buddy. No need for that face. You have a visitor," he told me.
My scorn settled as he escorted me out of my cell and down the hall to the visitor's booth. He set me down in an empty booth with a phone and a mailbox. I sat down, and there was my best friend Sam Joplin.
Description of Sam:
Voiced by Josh Keaton.
A skinny boy with white skin. He has a blonde "short parted right" hairstyle with a dark brown streak in it, and a small triangle-shaped soul patch beard on his chin.
He wears a white t-shirt underneath a jean vest and worn-out dark blue jeans. He had biker boots and wore black fingerless gloves.
He had a tattoo on his back that looked like a piston-and-cross wrenches.
Sam picked up the phone and he began talking to me.
"Hey, Benny. I got laid off of work early so I could see you," he explained.
"Good to know," I simply responded. I noticed Sam looking at me as if he knew something wasn't right in the air between us.
"I know being taken out of your home is one thing, but landing in juvie just for selling crack to the vice principal is something else. Believe me, Ben; I know you don't deserve to be locked up in here. But since we can't afford an appeal, I got you a slice of cake your mom told me to give you instead," he replied as he slid the delicious pastry through the mailbox and to my side of the booth.
Sam bid me goodbye and he walked out of the visiting room. I took the piece of cake back to my cell and as soon as I bit into it, I felt a hard metal rod as my teeth dug into the cake ravenously. Pulling it out, I realized it was a screwdriver.
I smiled; I knew Sam was my best friend, but I never thought he'd use the oldest trick in the book when it came to prison escape.
As soon as the guard finished night call and the lights were out in my block, I pulled the screwdriver from underneath my mattress and began fiddling with the screws on the cell window I had. Thankfully, I had been placed in a cell on ground level and thus made for an easier escape.
After removing the screws and pulling down the window, I began making my way out to freedom. I had climbed over the wall between the correctional facility and the outside world and was halfway down the street when I saw Sam's Sabretooth-brand motorcycle coming down the road.
The bike turned and drifted to a stop. Sam took off his helmet and smiled at me. I got on his bike and we sped off into the night.
We arrived at our hideout in the Red Light District (which was an apartment that Sam's aunt had owned before she was struck by a van), and began making ourselves more comfortable. Sam gave me some of his old clothes and I went into the bathroom to change.
I came out wearing a black tank-top and black gym shorts, along with some Jumps sneakers and some white hockey tape wrapped around my forearms and hands.
As I came out and sat on the couch, I cracked open a can of lemon-lime soda and saw Sam wiping his face over the kitchen sink.
"You know something, Sam? I never really thanked you for busting me out of that hellhole," I told him.
"It wasn't my idea; it was your mother's. She supplied the cake, I supplied the screwdriver. But thanks anyways," he replied as he plopped down on the couch and turned on the TV.
We flipped through several channels until we landed on the news. We saw that beautiful Channel 6 news reporter Jane Valderamma talking outside the courthouse.
"It is said by some to be the trial of the century. A notorious member of a gang once known as the "3rd Street Saints", Johnny Gat was arrested last year in an assassination attempt against then decorated police officer Troy Bradshaw," she spoke in that honey-coated voice that me and Sam lusted over.
I remembered hearing about the 3rd Street Saints and Johnny Gat a while back before I landed in juvie. They had managed to take out the Los Carnales, the Vice Kings and the Westside Rollerz before one of their top guns was killed in that yacht explosion along with Mayor Hughes. But I shook those thoughts out of my head as me and Sam kept watching.
"In the resulting trial, Gat was convicted of one count of attempted murder and a staggering 387 counts of 1st degree murder…promptly sending him off to Death Row at the Stilwater Penitentiary," she spoke.
Hearing this, I got off my ass and walked into Sam's bedroom. I looked under the bed and found a steel suitcase. Sam walked in and noticed me.
"Dude, what the hell are you doing?" he asked. I grabbed Sam's alarm clock and struck it against the lock that sealed the suitcase. After two more tries, I broke the lock and opened the suitcase. Inside was a gold-plated heavy pistol with several ammunition rounds. Sam tried to stop me, but I had it loaded and cocked before he got to me.
"Dude, you can't touch this! It's the only thing I have left of my dad!" he shouted at me. I grabbed the pistol from out of his hands and pointed it at the TV screen of Jane Valderamma.
"We're rescuing Johnny Gat, and you're coming with me," I told him. Sam scoffed at me and crossed his arms.
"Why? He's not worth my time or patience," he responded. I fired a shot into the ceiling, and Sam crouched out of fear.
"Because I said so. Now come on," I said to him. We both made our way outside and we looked around for a car to drive to the trial. We found a Bootlegger convertible that was parked outside and hijacked it. We then sped off, on a quest to do the impossible:
To rescue Johnny Gat.
A few minutes later, at the trial…
We parked outside and we ran into the courthouse amidst the news reporters and cops. We found the courtroom where Gat was being held and we were about to open the door when two guards approached us.
"Sorry. This is a private trial. No one is allowed in," they spoke.
I responded by shooting him between the eyes at close-point range and knocked the other guy out. Sam kicked down the door and we both barged in. I pointed my gun at a police officer.
"Drop it," I ordered. He dropped his gun and Sam picked it up. I checked his body for the keys while Sam walked over to Gat and his lawyer. I could hear them talking:
*3RD PERSON POV*
Sam: "You Johnny Gat?"
Gat: "The one and only. Who the hell are you twerps?"
Sam: "We twerps are the only chance you have of escaping death row, you dumbass!"
Lawyer: "OK, OK. Calm down. No need to be hostile-"
*CLICK CLICK* (Sam pulling the hammer down on his gun)
Sam: "Quiet, you. Wait a sec. Aren't you Legal Lee?"
Lee: "Yes. Why? Do you need a case?"
Sam: "No, I just heard about you on the radio ever since my dad died."
I finally found the keys and walked over to Gat. He looked very confused.
"So why are you rescuing me? Outside of anti-death penalty bullshit?", he asked us. I tossed Legal Lee the keys and pointed my revolver at him.
"Unlock the cuffs. NOW," I ordered him. And he did so as I gave Gat the gold-coated pistol. He examined it nicely.
"Nice. Where'd you get this?" he asked.
"Bought it from the auction of the old Price mansion," I lied. I didn't want to tell him that it was Sam's.
"Alright, then. So now what?" he questioned.
"Now we get the hell out of here," I replied.
"What about me?" Lee asked. I smiled at him.
"You're coming with us, bro. How'd you like to see how the other half does it?" I asked him. Lee smiled confusingly.
"Sure," he responded.
"OK, then. Let's go," I replied. And me, Sam, Gat and Lee all ran out of the courthouse. But no one could have prepared us for the assault that would soon follow…
Hope you guys enjoyed it. Leave a review and tell me what you think.
- RhapsodyBlueVA