Diary Of A Deadman

[-Engage]

I know what you might think. Another GTA fanfic.. another script-like story. After reading some good fanfics over here, I decided to write my own, but in a different way. Dialogues are ok, but making a story just out of pure dialogue (80-85%) just isn't my style... I tried to do that and it proved kind of boring to me. Anyway, let's skip to the chase. Happy reading

 

 

 

Chapter I: A Day Like Any Other

It all began a few months ago when Liberty wasn't as corrupt and unsafe. Walking the streets at night you wouldn't always check your six or carry a knuckle duster around with you to beat off the street punks or other scum. Life grabs you and puts you into the whirlwind of deception, loss, guilt, rage and all of this chaos is summarized and splattered at you at one moment when you're least expecting it. We're always to blame for the things that we might have done, or the things that we might have accomplished if we had acted differently, but that's not how it works. Be it this way, we'd make no mistakes... where's the fun in that?

 

I was working as a taxi driver at Borgnine for a couple of months now and I've been earning my money the hard way - work, stress and sleepless nights... parking tickets included. At some point, I thought that it was pretty much going to work out okay if I kept it up - I'd get a better job at some firm and life would change for the better. Hell, I was only 23 then. At any rate, I couldn't say I was unhappy with the way things were turning out... at least not for long.

 

In November of 2005, on a day like any other day, I recieved a dispatcher message while having a coffee break parked near Ammu-Nation in Newport. "AmCo on Newfoundland St. to First National Bank on Main St.", said a pleasant woman's voice. I recognized Samantha on the line and replied idly "1090 to dispatch, taken. Over.", and starting the car's engine. "Copy that, 1090. ETA?", asked Samantha immediately. "Five minutes.", I replied placing the radio back to its place and taking a comfortable position to drive. Another job like all the rest, I thought reaching the end of East Belleville St. and turning towards Delano Ave. As I looked at the clock, realising that it was almost noon, which meant rush hour, I instinctively slowed down a little to take advantage of the situation when I was going to head for Portland.

 

In under 5 minutes from the time I recieved the message from Samantha, I arrived at AmCo and stopped to wait for the passenger. Almost instantly, I heard one of the back doors open and I glanced into the rear view mirror seeing two men in dark suits enter the vehicle. "Good day", said one of them with a slight smile. Judging by his accent, he was European. Still watching them in the mirror, I nodded a little as a greeting sign. Just as I was about to drive off, another man entered the vehicle in front and nodded to the ones in the back. He had pale skin, neatly arranged, middle length blond hair and light blue eyes, almost white. "First National right?", I asked him trying to break the sudden silence in the vehicle and forced a smile. "Yes, please take fastest route there. We are in a hurry.", he replied with an accent aswell. "You got it.", I assured him driving off from Newfoundland St. and heading towards Callahan Bridge.

 

Passing the bridge, I overheard that the two men in the back were discussing something in a language I didn't understand. However, their repeated the word "polizai" several times, which made me think of the word "police". Shrugging that thought off, I turned onto Main St. and passed the Policeman School Hall, noticing that the man near me ducked a little bit as if he wanted to hide from someone. "Thank you very much, sir.", said the blond man when I stopped the car vis-a-vis from the bank. "Keep the change.", said one of the men from behind me extending a 100 dollar bill. Slightly bewildered, I took the money and watched them getting out of the car and walking towards the bank. Job well done and a great tip I thought to myself, great start for a day... but I was soon to regret thinking about that.

 

End of chapter.

 

Comments and criticism greatly appreciated

[Eminence]

Liking it so far, much more enjoyable to read than most of the other things here. I, too, hate script-like fanfics, made purely of dialogue - I prefer descriptive narratives by far. Much better to read, and write.

 

I like the first part, it's told in an interesting way, and I like your writing style ... I hope you continue it, but judging from the fact that this is the first reply to it in almost a month, I'd understand if you weren't fond of carrying on.

[Gaja 90]

 

Liking it so far, much more enjoyable to read than most of the other things here. I, too, hate script-like fanfics, made purely of dialogue - I prefer descriptive narratives by far. Much better to read, and write.

 

I like the first part, it's told in an interesting way, and I like your writing style ... I hope you continue it, but judging from the fact that this is the first reply to it in almost a month, I'd understand if you weren't fond of carrying on.

Engage stoped writing it, so I supose thats the reason nobody posted a comment.

The story seems interesting. I would like him to post chapter 2 some day. Just make it longer.

Edited November 22, 2006 by Gaja 90

[-Engage]

It's not the fact that I gave up on it, it just the fact that it seemed like nobody was interested in the story, so I didn't place chapter 2 up.

However, I see that I'll have to intrigue the reader a bit by placing some more. Next one up very soon.

[Gaja 90]

A little motivation can't hurt.

Check your rating

No beer for you until the next chapter

[-Engage]

Thanks for the comments. Sorry for such a long time without any updates... school was hell the past few weeks. Anyway, winter break's just a stone's throw away, so hopefully I'll post more ASAP.

 

 

Chapter II: Payday

 

Surfing senselessly through the wonderful place of my own subconsciousness, I was suddenly woken up by a heavy knock on the door and some growls behind it. Opening my eyes and focusing on the real world, I realised that it was my landlord, Mr. Albertson. "Rise and shine, Alvarez! It's Monday and you know what that means!", I heard his voice and his heavy knocks on door #47. Gazing at the clock near the bed, I realised that it was the 1st of December and it was time to pay the rent for the appartment. "I've got German guard dogs down in the alley so if you try to run, you'll know what bit ya!", I was sure he was bluffing, so he didn't recieve an answer from me. Walking into the bathroom, an ordinary morning routine started. However, Albertson was still getting on my nerves with his shouting and knocking.. he wasn't going to leave it lie. It was a bright sunny day and you'd never tell that it was hypothetically winter. "For the last time-", Albertson started, his voice hinting that he was on the verge of breaking down the door, however he didn't have time to finish, as the door in front of him had opened and I saw the distinguished figure of a grouchy, greedy, Hepburn Heights landlord.

 

"About f*cking time!", Albertson shouted throwing his hands into the air exasperatedly, eyeing me viciously. However, there was a hint of pleasure in his sight, knowing that he was about to recieve the rent money. "Good morning to you too, Mr. Albertson.", I replied simply, adding after a short pause "I'll pay you this evening once I get payed at work.". Those words probably smoothed down his greedy appetite, as I noticed that he calmed down a bit. "Well ok... but I'm warning you.. Those guard dogs are hungry.", he replied trying to sound like a warn. "Oh? What're their names anyway?", I asked interested, but knowing that the landlord was lying. Albertson wasn't prepared for such a question and his eyes thinned slightly, trying to think of something good to say. "Erm.. Tom-", he started, but I cut him off ironically "-Dick and Harry.", closing the door having said that.

 

My shift at work was starting at 9 o'clock, so I got dressed in the usual manner and went over to Mrs. Torres in room #34, where I always had breakfast. She was recieving pay from Albertson for providing the renters with a delicious breakfast and Mrs. Torres grew a liking for guests. She was a very lonely woman, as her husband, a Vietnam war hero died of cancer shortly before coming back to the US. Funny, isn't it? How could she end up in this place when she had all rights on the insurance she recieved after her husband's death? That question I wasn't going to ask her, to avoid opening old wounds. I knocked at the door, waiting for Mrs. Torres. After a few moments, the door opened and she greeted me as always with her warm, motherly smile. "Good morning, Mrs. Torres.", I greeted her. "'Morning, Sonny. Come on in. The lasagna's fresh from the oven.", she replied, indicating that I should come in at feel at home (as usual). I entered her appartment and paced to the kitchen, sitting down at the table. "Would you mind turning the TV on, dear?", she asked with her back turned to me, prepairing my meal. "Not at all.", I replied, turning on her kitchen TV, hitting the news hour incidentally. Indeed, it was 8 o'lock, which meant that the morning news were being broadcasted.

 

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. This is Anthony McBride with the daily morning news." I looked at the TV nonchallantly, concentrating more on my empty stomach than at McBride's news block. "Here are the breaking news for this day. Yesterday, on November 30th, at around noon, the First National Bank was robbed by a group of unknown armed men." Hearing those words, I froze in my seat, staring at the TV blankly. "No, no...", I tried desperately to reassure myself, but it was useless to fight the truth that was thrown into my face like a granite stone. "Judging by the witnesses of the crime, the robbers were of European origin and had the assault planned out impecably. Having taken a large number of bearer bonds, which dollar equivalent is still being calculated by the bank manager and the cashiers, the armed men fleed using the service entrance of the bank. An unedintified, black, tinted sedan picked up the assailants, rendering the police helpless in an attempt to stop them." "And I'm-", I thought to myself horrified, but McBride cut my thought off, continuing with his news block "Also, the witnesses pointed out that the robbers were brought to the bank by taxi and purely incidental, a tourist photographed part of the vehicle's number plate while having some sight seeing. The taxi driver might be involved in the crime aswell, so if any of you, ladies and gentlemen in the audience, are familiar with this number, please notify the LCPD in order to aid the process of finding the culprits and bringing them to justice." I grew very cold and pale suddenly, sensing as if the world was slipping from under my feet. It was probably the third of fourth time when Mrs Torres called my name when I managed to snap out out of the whirlwind that I was thrown into. "Sonny, are you alright? You look awfully pale.", I managed to hear her say in a concerned tone. However, I was still watching the disctinctive numbers of my own number plate, even if it was partly closed. That was solid evidence that lead straightly to me... and I grew very nervous. "What? Oh, I'm fine.", I replied to her after a pause, trying to sound calm. The truth behind the lie was, in reality, bitter. "In other news-", McBride started, but I changed to a different channel hurriedly, trying to keep my thoughts away from what I had just heard.

 

Having eaten breakfast and talked to Mrs Torres for a while, I went straight down the staircase that led to the first floor hurriedly, wanting to get to work as soon as possible and prove that I was innocent. "But how? Who's gonna believe I'm not in their league too?", that thought scared me.. possibly because it was an honest, objective remark about the predicament I was in. Walking out the front door of the building, I started walking towards Borgnine, which was just down the street from me. "Motherf*cking lucky day..", I grumbled to myself, being a few feet away from the entrance. It was payday that day, but it seemed as if I was going to be the one to pay.

Edited December 17, 2006 by -Engage

[Gaja 90]

Nice chapter, I like it. Keep it up Engage. And yeah school is a pain in the ass.

[TonyZimmzy]

This looks like a good story. I'll start following it when you post a few more chapters