Ok so this isn't going to be about the Saints, the reason I chose to put it under Saints Row is because I love the games and Stillwater is a good place for this story. Though this is about an RP group I am apart of, I will stay true to the SR style and though its about cops the Saints will be seen, I can't leave out a gang like that, but for now, just sit back and enjoy.

Rain smothered the city in water, the busy streets of Stillwater harmonized with the thunder above as a young kid in baggy clothing jumped over a white fence into a suburban home's backyard. His breathe heavy from running and his clothes wet from the downpour, but he kept running, frantically trying to escape from the black figure following behind him.

The kid crashed into a series of garbage cans but continued to run, not stopping as the figure closed ground. His heart throbbed as his feet splashed the water settling on the ground. The figure kept behind him the whole way, not resting or slowing down.

"God damn this guy is a machine…" The kid stated as he climbed over another fence.

Again the figure followed, but was greeted with a small clay flower pot to the head.

The kid laughed as the figure dropped to the ground from the impact. "That's right, mother fucker…." He stated out loud. "Don't fuck with Deon Smith…" He kicked the figure in the ribs and then started across the lawn of the house.

He froze when he heard rustling behind him, and a low growl from the figure getting back to their feet. "No fucking way…" He stated as he looked behind him and jumped into a back alley between the rows of houses. "No way he's still going." He continued to back his way toward the street as the figure jumped over the fence in front of him.

The figure popped their neck and turned to Deon. "That wasn't very nice." He said in a rough growling male voice.

Deon shook his head and continued backwards. "You're not human man…" He turned to run, but was greeted with a hand to his throat and a leg sweeping his out from under him, forcing him to the ground.

Another man stood over Deon, a grin on his face. "You were quiet a chase, Deon." He ran a hand through his wavy short brown hair and took off his aviator glasses to reveal dark brown eyes. "Lucky for me and my partner, you're really sloppy." He flipped Deon over and cuffed his hands behind him. "You're under arrest."

Deon pointlessly struggled. "Fuck you pigs, I didn't do nothin'."

The man lifted Deon onto his feet and rolled his eyes. "Right." He looked over at the figure. "You alright man?"

The figured stepped into the light, revealing a trail of blood running from his head down to his chin, soaking into his light brown beard. "Yeah I'll be fine." He ran a hand through his own hair, spiking it back up slightly, letting the moonlight glint off the sweat, giving it a brown glow.

The first man shook his head. "You are a real dumbass."

Deon nodded. "Yeah that's the truth."

The first man elbowed Deon in the ribs. "I meant you, dumbshit." He turned and guided Deon out of the alley and to the black 1969 Ford Mustang Boss parked a few feet away. "Let's get you back to your real home."

The other man sighed and looked up at the moon as he brushed off his black hoodie. "Doesn't get any easier…." He stated to himself, starting towards the car.

A few minutes later they were racing down the streets of Stillwater. The rain pattering on the windshield.

The radio blasted on. "Sgt. Knight, Sgt. Slater, please report back to the station…" A female voice stated. "Chief wishes to speak to you, over."

The man with the aviators smiled and picked up the radio. "This is Sgt. Slater, we copy loud and clear, over and out." He turned to Knight. "You think he's pissed?"

Knight smiled and nodded. "Oh yeah."

Sgt. Richard Slater unzipped his own hoodie and pulled it off, now wearing nothing but a black muscle shirt. Though he was much skinnier, he was several inches taller than Knight. His olive tan skin was complimented with rosatia, which showed mostly on his cheeks. He looked back at Knight and smiled. "You look a little tired."

Sgt. Robert Knight smiled and flipped him off. "You would too if you got hit in the head." He took his own hoodie off, showing a similar muscle shirt. He was a stocky figure, yet still slender and moderate. He grabbed his own shade, a pair of gray tacticals with a built-on Bluetooth, and slid them on.

They arrived at the station several minutes later, parking out front the main doors. Richard grabbed Deon walked him up the steps. "You know Deon…" He stated. "You're not only looking at possession of narcotics as well as a firearm…" He grinned. "But assaulting an officer." He shook his head. "Good luck with that buddy, you can't pull the minority plead on something like this."

Robert nodded. "Especially since we got all this on camera." He turned to Deon. "You are looking at the shitty end of this one."

Deon snarled at Robert. "Fuck you, pig."

Richard rolled his eyes and forced him up the steps. "Come on, let's get you in and processed…" He opened the front door. "I got a wife to get home too."

Robert and Richard dropped Deon off with the processors and started up the stairs.

"What do you think the Chief's gonna say?" Richard asked Robert.

Robert shrugged. "No clue…" He smiled and looked at Richard as he reached the front door to the Chiefs office. "But I can be sure we're not gonna be complimented."

They opened the door and stepped inside, looking around the office. The room was a moderate size, two statues stood on either side of the door they entered, a standing Spartan in full armor, his shield in front of him by his feet, both hands on the top and their heads bowed.

Robert walked up to the big desk facing the door, behind it a large black chair turned away facing the window that spanned the entire wall, which showed a marvelous view of the city as the sun rose through the now parting clouds.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" A deep voice asked from the other side of the chair. "Not only were you off duty…" The chair turned around. "You didn't even carry your firearms." The man sitting in the chair stood up, brushing off his black button up shirt and rolling up the sleeves. He was built much like Robert, but a heavier tan and more cut. His eyes hidden behind black shades but his stern stare still cut through Robert and Richard. He ran his hand through his black hair, spiked and complemented by blonde tips. "Now how the hell did you manage to survive the slums?"

Robert smiled. "Well, sir, we…."

The Chief shook his head. "I don't wanna know…." He turned to the window and walked up, his arms held behind him, the tribal tattoos on his forearms barely visible. "The fact is you managed to bring in Deon Smith." He smiled and stroked his clean-shaven beard and turned back to them. "An armed and dangerous daytime drug dealer who moonlights as an arms dealer." He walked back to the desk and looked down at a file. "But that's for another time." He looked up at them again. "Do you know what the senate calls your squad?"

Richard stepped up. "A waste of tax payers money…"

Robert continued. "A poor retaliation against gang violence."

The Chief raised a brow at them. "Apparently you two read the locals."

Robert and Richard looked at each other then back to the Chief.

The Chief continued. "Well I have a job for you two today that if successful…" A grin spread on his face. "Will prove your place in this department."

Robert grinned back. "We're listening?"

Ok so the first chapter isn't much for action or excitement….its just to show the main character….chapter 2 will begin the action so please continue reading and I promise it will be exciting.