MAX:

Max wakes up in a damp basement like setting, with tons of metal rolling countertops, with tools on them, like you'd see in a hospital. He turns his head to the left and actually does see a stretcher. The florecent lights up above his head shine blue across the room, burning his eyes and making him drowsy. He pulls at his hands, they move less than an inch. wrapped around his back, his elbows bent abnormally across a board behind his back... not a board, a back rest. He was tied to a metal chair. 'Fuck, metal.' he'd gotten out of this situation before but it wouldn't be the same this time, there was no way he was braking this chair.

Glass drawers with various drugs in them line the room, he felt like he was in the hospital from hell, a morgue for living people. He watches the door as it swings open and a young man enters the room. A shotgun at his side.

"Max Payne. It's a shame I don't know you, and it's a shame you don't know me either. What's not a shame is what I'm about to do to get rid of you. If I don't you'll fuck up everything, 'cause these guys out there couldn't get you... but I could."

"Got an asprin? My headaches killin' me."

"Aw, this must not be your lucky day."

"Tell me about it."

"Okay..." He says setting the gun down next to Max's knee, "I will. See this..." He pulls a black metal barrel closer to Max and reaches inside, he lifts up and drops different colored shotgun shells out of the it, green, pink, and yellow.

"What are those?"

"Shotgun shells. This shotgun, It's low caliber. Very low caliber, so don't be too scared when I put it too your face, you ain't gonna die when it goes off. What will happen though, is you'll wish... that you're gonna' die. These shells though, different colors, these are... persuaders."

"Of what?"

"Information Max. Each shell contains a different item; broken glass, needles, and these little M&M shaped metal beeds that have razor bladed tips."

"I hate M&M's."

"Hey we're gettin' to know each other. I'm sorry I haven't properly introduced myself my name is Tommy. In case you live - though I doubt that you will - I'm not telling you my last name."

"What a pitty I thought we were getting to be friends."

"What I want to know Max is who knows we're here. Each time you don't answer me, I'm going to take one of these shells out and blast it into your face, in the order that I told you about them."

"So that's glass, needles, and M&M's right?" Max says with a cocky smile.

"Yep..."

"Well come on," Max says, "do your worst. Nobody knows shit anyway, so you'll look pretty stupid. You might as well just kill me."

"Maybe later..." Tommy lifts up the shotgun and points it at Max's head, "You've got three seconds, one... two... three..."

The shotgun makes an airgun type sound and fires shards of glass through Max's cheek. "FUCK! FUCK! Fuck you!"

"Not friends anymore huh?" Tommy says screaming over Max's moans.

"I don't know any of the cops here. Who the hell am I supposed to tell. I just got here today!"

"Sure you did." Tommy pumps the shell out of the shotgun and it falls to the ground, next to Max's shoe. "One..."

"Two..." Max says mocking him.

"Three..." 'PSSHH' an explosion of needles shoots through the barrel into Max's face.

The stinging sensation was bad enough to tell the man anything, but Max wasn't lying he hadn't had time to tell anyone where he was going. The burning needles stuck tightly in his head, with blood barely being able to push past them.

"This last thing is bad enough to rip your face to shreds. I'm counting. One... two..."

"Three..." Max says, his tough guy attitude shining through. Nothing happens, Tommy lowers the shotgun.

"Fine, I believe you." Tommy says, "No sense keeping you here anymore. Ever hear of concrete shoes."

"I live in New York...." Max says spitting blood on Tommy's shoes, "What the fuck do you think?"

"Cute." Tommy takes a dart and jams it into Max's leg, pushing down on the plunger.

Max wakes up groggy in the back of a truck his hands are untied but his feet feel heavy, and constricted, held together by concrete shoes. The whole world was dropping around him, the sky seemed like it was literally falling on his head, and the only thing he could do about it was wait for it to end.

The personal apocalypse he had always thought about, and individuals end of the world. This was his, he'd cheated in the game of death, now Death was getting back at him for keeping too many winning hands up his sleeve, he was about to get his for all he'd done, death was going to cheat him right back. Right in the middle of an investigation, he was almost there, then a stranger comes a long and ends him, all of it for nothing.

He hears doors slam, on both sides above his head and a familiar voice. "You cold Dog. Yeah, I told you it gets really fuckin' cold out here at night.

The door at his feet clanks down and someone grabs the block attached to his feet dragging him from inside the truck, it slams onto the street, standing Max straight up. It's 8-ball and Fido.

"Will you look at this." 8-ball says smilin'. Fido nods his head, then 8-ball's expression changes, "I don't like killin' people, but you almost capped my ass to many fuckin' times. This shit isn't personal for me, it's my life."

Max stares coldly into 8-ball's eyes, blood flowing down his face and needles poking out like splinters, "You're about to take my life 8-ball... It doesn't get much more personal than that."

"I'm sorry man." 8-ball clubs Max in the back of the head with a rock and pushes him forward, Max tips over the edge of a railing next to a bridge and his feet being heavy, tip his body back to a standing type position as he falls, doing a full front flip. The concrete block hits the water. His left palm slaps onto the handle of a metal ladder - a maintenence ladder next to the bridge - the sound of a wet popping noise rings through his ears, as a burning pain passes through his shoulder. He had heard his own arm seperate unnaturally from his shoulder blade. He hangs on desperately while his shoulder starts to go numb. His whole body aches and shakes as he hangs loosely above the cold waters of Vice City.

He takes his right hand and places it next to his left one and struggles methodically to pull himself up a bit, it works and he swings his body smacking his shoulder into another one of the ladders handles, 'SPSLSH' it pops back into place, and he moans in pain, but laughs hysterically as he is about to make his escape. He takes his left hand and places it two handles above his head, pulling himself up he can feel the fire within' him and his shoulder got as hot a as a burning coal. He pulls again with his right hand. It takes him seven minutes to get to the top. Then he leans over the railing and shifts his weight forward, the concrete block on his feet pushes him faster than he'd expected and his face smacks into the concrete, the needles in his face twisting pulling and pushing in his head. His spin is bent unnaturally but he uses his arms to pull himself forward and the block on his feet falls off the railing and drops - with his feet - to the his right side.

He pulls himself forward more until his body's almost straight. Then he manages to pull himself up, he drops backwards resting his back on the railing, he pulls a cellular phone from his leather jacket, and dials the VCPD.

"Yeah, this is Max Payne..." he says out of breath, a wet sound to his voice, "....Yeah, I'm the guy you saw on TV. Listen this is an emergancy. I'm somewhere next to a bridge, in this city... with a concrete block the size of a buick strapped to my feet. I need someone to come down here and bring me a sledgehammer and a shotgun......... No, it's not a joke. Sure why not." they'd put him on hold.

Even when death cheated, Max was delt a winning hand, the last trick up his sleeve was his best. Max had saved himself from a dying nightmare. Or maybe death was just on his side.