Part 1: The good ol' America's laws of Justice.
Chapter One: The Arrest.
New York, the newly re-constructed Aizer Plaza building...
"Max Payne is in the building! Repeat: Max Payne is in the building! He's armed and dangerous! Proceed with cautions!"
They were all dead. I watched the king fall down from his stolen empire, who ironicly, was falling to the same spot as the witch had. No doubt she would have finnally someone to chat to, while burning in hell. I released my finger from the tricker, hoping that this time would be the last. As I turned around, Mona looked into my eyes, and saw that the famous Max Payne had finnally got his peace.
To make any sense about this, I would have to go back about a year and a half from now, to the night when I killed the witch, who had tried to take a short-cut to Valhalla with her drug money. As the police car went towards the police station, I realised something about the one-eyed grin.
It wasint just a grin of a winner; it was a grin of someone who was now more powerfull than the witch was.
Alfred now could easily erase all the evidence that would back me up, and go into hiding. That seemed to be his special ability; erase and hide and never beeng seen again. But I had an abilty of my own, short and simple; kill.
As we became closer to the station, the remaining ashes of my fire inside me that represented my rage, a small spark lit up, that would later on turn into an inferno. I was not aware of it, until later on.
We stoped in front of the station, and as me, and couple of officers were walking in, it started to snow. When I think about it, I think this was a sign telling me that my fight wasin't over.
As we were walking in, I saw several police cars coming at high speed, followed what appeared to be, every TV's News cars in the big apple. A police car stoped in front of the station, and big ol' Jim Burova stepped out of it, looking more than satisfied. He walked towards me, and stood beside me, looking at the TV crews, prebearing they're cameras, hoping to get a word or two from they're target.
"I never liked those damn vultures." Jim said, as if we were old buddies. I simply looked at him, then back at the vultures.
"I have a hunch telling me that you won't allowe me to say a word or two to them."
"You got that right." Jim simply said, then motioned the officers to take me inside. When I walked in, I saw and felt the stares I was getting, some from cops, others from peapel who just happened to be here. I was escorted to the bookie, a fat guy eating a donut.
Then, two officers entered, carrying two big bags.
"Hey, what do you got there?" The two officers droped the bags on the floor in front of the bookie, totally exhausted.
"The weapons that mister psycho here was carrying." One of them said, then started to place my former weapons on the table.
"A shotgun, one sawed off, a bat, Desert Eagle, one no wait...two Berrettas..." As the count went on, my eyes started to wander, and I saw a TV hanging on the wall. On it, was the news lady, a picture of me and big words behind it saying CAPTURED!
I was pulled back to myself when one of the officers talked loudly.
"Jesus! A damn grenade launcher! What the hell were you doing back there?! Fighting a war?!" I looked at the officer who was holding my former grenade launcher, and gave a simple answer.
"Yes."
After beeng done with the bookie, I was taken to the cells. Got a private cell. Must have been my lucky day.
And when I fell asleep, there was no nightmare. No smiling killer, no spooky talks, no images of my dead loved-ones. Just peace and quiate. I had earned it.
Few days later my official trial began. When we were driving to the 'house of justice', I was in a cop car, and was escorted like I was the President himself. And when we aproached, I saw almost a mile of peapel, cars and news reporters in front of the court house. We stoped in front of the stairs, got out, and walked up. It was almost imposible seeng where I was going, because of the flashes of the cameras, and I almost couldn't hear myself think, 'cause of all the shoutings of the peapel. I kept my head up and didn't move it. But my eyes scanned to the right and lef, hoping to see a one-eyed face. He wasin't there
But, eventually I reached the big doors, were the vultures couldn't reach in, lucky for me.
I walked into the big room, and it immidiatly was filled with high whispers, all looking or pointing at me.
I toke a seat, followed by my new lawyer, a pale guy who ahd probably been ordered to defend me. Later on the judge came, we stood up, then sat down.
My trial had begun.
Author's Note: I know I've probably misspelled a few times. I speak english pretty good, but sometimes sucks at writting it. I'm trying to improve though. Oh, and any suggestions are more than welcomed. Comments and/or flames, please go to the review. Please R&R!
Chapter One: The Arrest.
New York, the newly re-constructed Aizer Plaza building...
"Max Payne is in the building! Repeat: Max Payne is in the building! He's armed and dangerous! Proceed with cautions!"
They were all dead. I watched the king fall down from his stolen empire, who ironicly, was falling to the same spot as the witch had. No doubt she would have finnally someone to chat to, while burning in hell. I released my finger from the tricker, hoping that this time would be the last. As I turned around, Mona looked into my eyes, and saw that the famous Max Payne had finnally got his peace.
To make any sense about this, I would have to go back about a year and a half from now, to the night when I killed the witch, who had tried to take a short-cut to Valhalla with her drug money. As the police car went towards the police station, I realised something about the one-eyed grin.
It wasint just a grin of a winner; it was a grin of someone who was now more powerfull than the witch was.
Alfred now could easily erase all the evidence that would back me up, and go into hiding. That seemed to be his special ability; erase and hide and never beeng seen again. But I had an abilty of my own, short and simple; kill.
As we became closer to the station, the remaining ashes of my fire inside me that represented my rage, a small spark lit up, that would later on turn into an inferno. I was not aware of it, until later on.
We stoped in front of the station, and as me, and couple of officers were walking in, it started to snow. When I think about it, I think this was a sign telling me that my fight wasin't over.
As we were walking in, I saw several police cars coming at high speed, followed what appeared to be, every TV's News cars in the big apple. A police car stoped in front of the station, and big ol' Jim Burova stepped out of it, looking more than satisfied. He walked towards me, and stood beside me, looking at the TV crews, prebearing they're cameras, hoping to get a word or two from they're target.
"I never liked those damn vultures." Jim said, as if we were old buddies. I simply looked at him, then back at the vultures.
"I have a hunch telling me that you won't allowe me to say a word or two to them."
"You got that right." Jim simply said, then motioned the officers to take me inside. When I walked in, I saw and felt the stares I was getting, some from cops, others from peapel who just happened to be here. I was escorted to the bookie, a fat guy eating a donut.
Then, two officers entered, carrying two big bags.
"Hey, what do you got there?" The two officers droped the bags on the floor in front of the bookie, totally exhausted.
"The weapons that mister psycho here was carrying." One of them said, then started to place my former weapons on the table.
"A shotgun, one sawed off, a bat, Desert Eagle, one no wait...two Berrettas..." As the count went on, my eyes started to wander, and I saw a TV hanging on the wall. On it, was the news lady, a picture of me and big words behind it saying CAPTURED!
I was pulled back to myself when one of the officers talked loudly.
"Jesus! A damn grenade launcher! What the hell were you doing back there?! Fighting a war?!" I looked at the officer who was holding my former grenade launcher, and gave a simple answer.
"Yes."
After beeng done with the bookie, I was taken to the cells. Got a private cell. Must have been my lucky day.
And when I fell asleep, there was no nightmare. No smiling killer, no spooky talks, no images of my dead loved-ones. Just peace and quiate. I had earned it.
Few days later my official trial began. When we were driving to the 'house of justice', I was in a cop car, and was escorted like I was the President himself. And when we aproached, I saw almost a mile of peapel, cars and news reporters in front of the court house. We stoped in front of the stairs, got out, and walked up. It was almost imposible seeng where I was going, because of the flashes of the cameras, and I almost couldn't hear myself think, 'cause of all the shoutings of the peapel. I kept my head up and didn't move it. But my eyes scanned to the right and lef, hoping to see a one-eyed face. He wasin't there
But, eventually I reached the big doors, were the vultures couldn't reach in, lucky for me.
I walked into the big room, and it immidiatly was filled with high whispers, all looking or pointing at me.
I toke a seat, followed by my new lawyer, a pale guy who ahd probably been ordered to defend me. Later on the judge came, we stood up, then sat down.
My trial had begun.
Author's Note: I know I've probably misspelled a few times. I speak english pretty good, but sometimes sucks at writting it. I'm trying to improve though. Oh, and any suggestions are more than welcomed. Comments and/or flames, please go to the review. Please R&R!