GTA: Innocence Forgotten
Foreword: This is a little darker then most of the GTA fan fiction in my mind. I try to make it more a plot of a killer who resembles "The Man" (Gta 3's star), but has a reason for his crimes, and hopes to remove his sins. Enjoy.
Chapter 1
Innocence Forgotten
I looked out the car door window as Liberty City passed before my eyes. A tear fell from my eye, splashing down on the leather seat of the Mafia Sentinel. I knew what I had to do, and it involved guns. It involved death, the death of those I had no grudge against, but that's what it meant to be a killer.
But when in the fuck did I become a killer? Since when was I, Rob Dennings, a "hired gun"...
I had to go back a bit... Shit, not a little while back, at least years ago. Well, I remember it clearly...
Several Years Ago
Liberty City
Shoreside Vale...
It was about 5:48 PM. I wasn't initiated into the crime world yet, hell, I'd never even held a gun at that point. I was just a Liberty City resident, but suprisingly, life was good. I had a wife, a kid who was 8 years old, I remember, he was on the Little League Team for Shoreside.
That was a time when I didn't have a care in the world. I worked for the city as a legal prosecutor, but even if I had lost my job that day, I doubt I'd even have cared. But that was then. That could've been a broadway frickin' musical for all I cared, to me, it was ancient history.
Well, I was on my way home. I'd prosecuted some gangster, I wasn't too much into it at the time, but it would mean my life taking a different path. I'd sent him to the electric chair.
The criminals name was Dennis Famente. Big time gangster, runs spank dealing, prostitution, and owns a popular night club, the 24-7, big time hangout for thugs and car boosters.
Well, turns out this wasn't the guy to fuck with. I come home that night, find the devil on my doorstep.
Walk in the house, to a horrible smell building up. I see bloody footsteps leading up the stairs. I immediately pull a baseball bat off the wall, and cautiously move up the steps, knowing something bad was going down.
Move up the stairs, feels like I'm in a horror movie, just at the part where your favorite character gets killed. Slowly, I move through the hall, to my wife's bedroom.
What I see makes me close my eyes and weep. I couldn't help it, I felt like killing myself.
On the bed, my wife lay, with an ice pick next to her, the blood of her smeared on the edge. She's dead, from obvious reasons.
Blood- it's everywhere.
I laid myself down on the ground, in a fetal position, and cried my fuckin' eyes out. I didn't know what else could I do. If you're life was taken, you're wife killed, as was your son, what would you do? This was hardly the time to go read the paper or grab a bite.
Well, stupid move to start crying- I'd never even checked to see if the killer's responsible were still near the house.
Smashing glass came next. I saw an oil soaked rag, wrapped over a brick smash through the hallway window, landing in a pile of gasoline.
"Oh shit!"
I cursed to myself, watching the entire hallway light up in flames. The bedroom wasn't oiled down, but it didn't need to be, that gallon of gas on the hallway floor was enough to take the entire house down in minutes.
I had to do something- unfortunately, the first idea that came to mind would sprain my ankle, as I jumped out of a second story window, landing on a fallen branch.
I was able to catch a screeching car though, it was a Landstalker, gray with gold stripes. I was able to pick up the license, for the murderers who drove it had the license plate customized.
"24-7"
It was obvious Famente or Famente's goons had done it. But boy oh boy, they should've tied me up and shot me in the head 5 times, because they just started a one man war, with me on the other side of the fence.
Innocence forgotten, I got in my car and blazed out to Portland. It would be a long night.
Foreword: This is a little darker then most of the GTA fan fiction in my mind. I try to make it more a plot of a killer who resembles "The Man" (Gta 3's star), but has a reason for his crimes, and hopes to remove his sins. Enjoy.
Chapter 1
Innocence Forgotten
I looked out the car door window as Liberty City passed before my eyes. A tear fell from my eye, splashing down on the leather seat of the Mafia Sentinel. I knew what I had to do, and it involved guns. It involved death, the death of those I had no grudge against, but that's what it meant to be a killer.
But when in the fuck did I become a killer? Since when was I, Rob Dennings, a "hired gun"...
I had to go back a bit... Shit, not a little while back, at least years ago. Well, I remember it clearly...
Several Years Ago
Liberty City
Shoreside Vale...
It was about 5:48 PM. I wasn't initiated into the crime world yet, hell, I'd never even held a gun at that point. I was just a Liberty City resident, but suprisingly, life was good. I had a wife, a kid who was 8 years old, I remember, he was on the Little League Team for Shoreside.
That was a time when I didn't have a care in the world. I worked for the city as a legal prosecutor, but even if I had lost my job that day, I doubt I'd even have cared. But that was then. That could've been a broadway frickin' musical for all I cared, to me, it was ancient history.
Well, I was on my way home. I'd prosecuted some gangster, I wasn't too much into it at the time, but it would mean my life taking a different path. I'd sent him to the electric chair.
The criminals name was Dennis Famente. Big time gangster, runs spank dealing, prostitution, and owns a popular night club, the 24-7, big time hangout for thugs and car boosters.
Well, turns out this wasn't the guy to fuck with. I come home that night, find the devil on my doorstep.
Walk in the house, to a horrible smell building up. I see bloody footsteps leading up the stairs. I immediately pull a baseball bat off the wall, and cautiously move up the steps, knowing something bad was going down.
Move up the stairs, feels like I'm in a horror movie, just at the part where your favorite character gets killed. Slowly, I move through the hall, to my wife's bedroom.
What I see makes me close my eyes and weep. I couldn't help it, I felt like killing myself.
On the bed, my wife lay, with an ice pick next to her, the blood of her smeared on the edge. She's dead, from obvious reasons.
Blood- it's everywhere.
I laid myself down on the ground, in a fetal position, and cried my fuckin' eyes out. I didn't know what else could I do. If you're life was taken, you're wife killed, as was your son, what would you do? This was hardly the time to go read the paper or grab a bite.
Well, stupid move to start crying- I'd never even checked to see if the killer's responsible were still near the house.
Smashing glass came next. I saw an oil soaked rag, wrapped over a brick smash through the hallway window, landing in a pile of gasoline.
"Oh shit!"
I cursed to myself, watching the entire hallway light up in flames. The bedroom wasn't oiled down, but it didn't need to be, that gallon of gas on the hallway floor was enough to take the entire house down in minutes.
I had to do something- unfortunately, the first idea that came to mind would sprain my ankle, as I jumped out of a second story window, landing on a fallen branch.
I was able to catch a screeching car though, it was a Landstalker, gray with gold stripes. I was able to pick up the license, for the murderers who drove it had the license plate customized.
"24-7"
It was obvious Famente or Famente's goons had done it. But boy oh boy, they should've tied me up and shot me in the head 5 times, because they just started a one man war, with me on the other side of the fence.
Innocence forgotten, I got in my car and blazed out to Portland. It would be a long night.