The Big Change.

[GlockWorkz]

INTRODUCTION:

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I SUGGEST YOU FINISH GRAND THEFT AUTO: SAN ANDREAS' STORY LINE BEFORE READING.

A LOT OF SPOILERS.

 

Hey guys, this is a GTA:SA fan fic. This is my second fan fic. I'm gonna try my best to stay active with this fan fic, and give it the full commitment it should be treated with. The story is based on the Riot in San Andreas, and the big change it had to a person living an average life in Los Santos.

 

EDIT: My writing style is different then most. Many people who wrote a GTA:SA Fan fic here in the Writer's Discussion used either script style, or Third person. My style is like me trying to tell you a story of your own life in your view.This is the type of story where your imagination comes to play: You are the main character. I just wrote the basic concept of the sentences "you" are saying, and it's basically a simple game of "Story Fill-In blanks". This creates more interactivity to the story.

 

I'll do that sometimes in the story, and sometimes it seems like the character is speaking to themselves. If you feel you're in the story, good, keep it that way.

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CHARACTERS SO FAR:

This hear is to inform you which characters we have came by so far. This part is updated WHILE I write the story, because to tell you the truth, all of it so far is freestyle written.

The Hobo (current status: deceased;fire):

The well-built Hobo the main character finds trying to steal his T.V. This is your first fight in the story. Knocked out by head planted in wall, deceased by fire.

 

Psychotic Molotov Wielder (current status: deceased;fire):

Psychotic man who's basic purpose in this riot is to burn every living person out there. He has a backpack full of unlit Molotov Cocktails, and always keeps an extra lighter in his pocket. He carries a camera along with him, and takes pictures of every victim he has got. Deceased by fire.

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Chapter History:

Chapter 1: The Morning (Same post as Introduction)

Chapter 2: Screw work, what's going on here?

Chapter 3: The Warzone.

Chapter 4: In the fiery pits of Hell

Chapter 5: Searing Flesh.

Chapter 6: The Camera

Chapter 7: A Burning Village

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Chapter 1: The Morning

Setting: In a house, Los Santos.

 

Everyday, You wake up, grab your breakfast, take your daily shower, brush your teeth, and dress up for your early shift at the local Burger Shot. Your life is already rock bottom, the minimum wage job to pay for your broken down house in the middle of Glen Park, the Ballas strongest piece of territory. Everyday, the early morning alarm clock was the gunshots fired either in the abusive couple next door, or the Ballas trying to keep their territory clean from every cop or enemy gang attempting to enter. You hate your life, and wished for anything to spice it up a bit.

 

Last night, you slept as the Average Joe working at the Cash Register at the Local Burger Shot, serving people their food without knowing what other special ingredient the cooks have added to their meal. Customers mocked your social status because of your job. This was your life.

 

Today, your morning alarm clock would not stop ringing. The smell of blood and gun powder invades the air. Waking up at 5 in the morning was hard enough, but now all this ruckus is preventing you from sleeping. You start out your morning like every other, even with the gun shots and screaming outside, you're just thinking it's a bad day today in Los Santos.

 

While you have your shower, everything is muted, but the water hitting your body, and shower curtains of little yellow ducklings crossing the heart-shaped pond. Everything is silent, and peaceful. You turn off your shower head, and notice creeping from your living room. The peace is gone. You put on a towel to cover your showing body parts, and slightly open the door, enough to see what is in the other room (Which is the living room).

 

The shadow of an over-grown man tip-toes silently to your T.V, his horrid stench reaching your nose tells you he lives on the streets, and the only thing you can do is watch. His hands touch the T.V, and you're panicking. It's not like you've never encountered this before, so why are you panicking? While taking loud panic breaths, the stranger notices your breathing. He looks towards your bathroom, as if you're the man his wife is cheating with, and he's the jealous husband with the shotgun. He may not have a shotgun, but what this guy is compared to you, it's the same difference.

 

You know something is different today in Los Santo's. You start wondering, as the gigantic well-built hobo is aggressively walking towards you. He's making action, the question is, will you?

(If you find anything wrong with it, please tell me xD I'm not really Class-A in writing, by the way.)

Edited July 26, 2007 by GlockWorkz

[TonyZimmzy]

I'm following this. You're good, very good

[GlockWorkz]

I'm following this. You're good, very good

Thanks! I'm gonna post another chapter tomorrow.

[Coral_City]

 

He looks towards your bathroom, is if you're the man his wife is cheating with, and

 

As...not is - anyhow, it seems interesting enough...let's see where this goes

[GlockWorkz]

Yeah, I kind of realized that after submitting it. I'll change it as soon as I'm done this Chapter

 

Chapter 2: Screw work, what's going on here?

Setting: In your Bathroom, Los Santo's.

 

You're surprised to think that a strange man is out to kill you in your own home, and you're thinking about how good that shower was while it lasted. What's concerning you in the outside world is always muted while you take your shower, that's your little vacation. Your family dies, you cook the meal of your life. You lose your love partner, you change your style, and come out as a different person. You wake up with explosions and bangs everywhere at 5 in the morning, and an enraged hobo twice the size of you is about to kill you, you take your shower. And to think, just now you remembered you're naked, you're too distracted thinking on how wonderful your shower was, and the infinite ways of how this person can wreck you.

 

You take a towel off your sink, wet it up a bit, and you get ready for the fight of your life. The hobo busts open your door. While you're readying the whip, you realize his 6'5 height, and his muscles enough to bench press your weight. Their was no way you could take on this guy, you think, "Survival is key".

 

Too many thoughts prevented you from taking the first hit. "Should I hit the head, or the chest?! Maybe the leg would do good, too!" But it was too late. The hobo grabs your arm, and throws you to the piece of ground next to your T.V, in the Living Room. His fists pound together, making you know he's going to wreck you. What you do next is surprising, and led in by the thought "Never give up" and "Survival is key", and a dash of adrenaline pumping inside you. You stand up, ready your fists in a boxing position, and kick the hobo in the right hip. he budges a little bit to the right, and you uppercut to his face. Your bi-daily practices of kick boxing in Gyms worked out pretty good for you. Even if the man you thought was too big, and strong for you was in your hands, you deliver one more powerful fed punch to his nose, and that knocks him out, temporarily.

 

While rushing out of the room, you stare at the unconscious hobo laying down in your Living Room. While walking to your bedroom to dress up, you pass by a window. Everything catches your eyes, the gunfires, the huge amount of people fighting, and the explosions. It wasn't just a bad day at Los Santos, it was a Riot. One day, you work at the cash register in a Burger Shot. Today, you wake up as a soldier in the middle of a War.

 

Dressing up was considered a sport activity when there is a war outside of your house, and 5 houses on your block are ablaze. Nothing mattered, it didn't matter if you wore that same shirt yesterday, and those pants two days ago, all you think about is why this Riot started. Obviously, no news papers are going to tell you, and your T.V is being occupied by an unconscious hobo- So you thought.

 

As you finish putting on your Orange shirt from Sub-Urban, the Hobo comes from the corner, grabs you, and throws you to a wall. At least you weren't naked this time he threw you, but you were still gasping for air.

 

Screw your daily exercises, screw your minimum wage job. You've been wishing this day would happened for over a year, you got what you wished for, but didn't expect it would be like this. You pictured yourself with an Assault Rifle, sitting in a car with 3 of your best friends, shooting anyone who even thinks about touching your car knob. This was your feeble escape from reality, and it just came true.

Edited March 17, 2007 by GlockWorkz

[Coral_City]

Nice chapter...very nice. I like where this is going

 

-- though I do wonder what it feels like to be thrown across a room naked...

[-/TNT\-]

Yeah, this is good.

[GlockWorkz]

@Coral_City: Same here, actually, I wouldn't wanna know how it feels.

@TNT: Thanks! Heres another chapter.

 

Chapter 3: The War zone

Setting: Living room, Los Santos.

 

 

The blood trickling down the hobo's nose was distracting you from the actual hobo. It's bright red glimmer slowly swims it's way down to his chest, and you finally noticed what you have done to him. His mouth bulging out from his right cheek, and his position so out of place, all of his balance was off his right leg, and all on to his left leg. With one smart move, you can knock this guy good. His bloodshot eyes starring deep into your eyes, and his mouth so tense, the blood pumps out from his gums. This guy was definitely weakened, but wasn't going to give up.

 

From your sitting position on the wall, he's too high up for you to uppercut his jaw, he's too far away to sweep him to the ground, so you try and think something out of the ordinary that was just good enough for him to fall down. You search your pockets, and find your wallet. This was the last resort, but you had to.

 

When you take out your wallet from your pocket, the hobo automatically had the idea that you have given up. To be honest, so did you. You pass the wallet to your left hand, and you extend your left arm in the position of giving your wallet to the hobo. The hobo smiles, even after the awful beating. He extends his arm, too. You wait until his arm gets closer, and closer. Just as the hobo was about to grab the wallet, you drop the wallet, and instead you grab his hand. You force him to the wall, giving you the right amount of pull force to pull you up, standing. His face smashes your weak wall, leaving a hole in the size of his face. Taking pride of what you did, you start smiling. You grab your wallet, then you run to your kitchen to grab a 6 inch knife, and then you finally start walking to your door.

 

F*ck, you say, as 2 girls you see run across your house from a man wearing a backpack, and holding a Molotov Cocktail. One girl falls in terror, as the psychotic man throws the Molotov directly at her torso, slowly burning the flesh off of her body. He laughs, as he takes a camera from around his neck, and takes countless pictures of the girl suffering. Even though you say to yourself fight only when provoked, you grab your knife tightly, and run towards the man. He slowly takes an unlit Molotov from his backpack, and also a lighter from his pocket. You stop, and look the other way, as he's ready to pitch that bottle straight to your head.

 

The few seconds you spent looking around, you noticed a lot of crimes, but no police. People fighting and dying at will, and no one to stop them. You start wondering now, why and how did this Riot start? But screw that thought, there's a maniac aiming a lit Molotov at you, and if you do this wrong, this could be the end of your story. Freedom at last, no job to keep you stressed, no boss to yell at you, no more customers to annoy you. Either way benefits you, but so far, you only have 2 choices; Play it smart, different and happier ending of that chapter in life. Play it stupid, your story ends early.

Edited March 18, 2007 by GlockWorkz

[TonyZimmzy]

I'm loving this, it reminds me of Fight Club

[GlockWorkz]

 

I'm loving this, it reminds me of Fight Club

Whoa, it does. Well, I recently read the book, that's probably it.

 

Chapter 4: In the fiery pits of hell.

Setting: Glen Park, Los Santos

 

 

The tattered clothing and devilish grin of the man intimidated you in a way you have never been intimidated before. Usually, it's a gun to the head that scares you, but this man's grin flew off the chart. This type of guy is the reason why they stereotype psychotic people as the weapon wielding Antichrist without a social life, always sitting in their home, remembering the "good old days" he or she had, looking at blueprints to some sort of army base. And you wondered why you left your home in the first place.

 

You fall to the ground when he throws it, it barely misses you. You then remember why you left your house. Watching the Molotov burn down your door made you realize why you wanted to kill this guy.

 

The man takes out another unlit Molotov cocktail from his backpack. He uses the lighter to burn the cloth hanging from outside the top of the bottle. When death is seconds away, every little thing you see is now described with amazing detail. Everything is in slow motion, you can see everything come at you beforehand. He readies the pitch, and then looks the other distance. Everything is back to normal. The details are now gone, the regular speed came back. You wonder why.

 

The maniac throws the Molotov at something off of your range of sight, that house in front of you covers the view. You didn't really care much, as the man ran away after throwing the Molotov. You stand up, and look at the direction the maniac ran off to and notice he is gone and done, and then looked at the direction where he threw the Molotov.

 

You have never been so happy to see the police. Supposedly, they were to take care of a big fist fight somewhere in this vicinity. They said "somewhere around 10 to 15 people were fighting, huge brawl, our purpose was to stop it, but my partner and I went just to watch it."

 

It doesn't really matter, you get to live another day. The Molotov cocktail that was aimed at you, but burned down your door, became bigger then you expected.. It reached where the hobo was knocked out. Since your phone is inside the house, and the fire department won't even TRY to come at this side of town, all you could do was watch your house burn down.

 

A tear ran down your face. This is wear you lived, this was your home. Everything was in there, you just couldn't believe what has happened.

 

Then you realize, if you haven't taken action, you would be burned yourself, with the house coming down with you. The Molotov maniac problem is gone - for now. The question is still in your mind, though. "Why has the riot started?" The cops are still there, inside the car, so you run by and ask.

 

"All I know is everyone in the city is out to look to bust our heads." One cop shouts, it's pretty loud with screaming and gun shots screeching from every distance.

 

"It's not only us, it's every cop." The other one shouts, this is a hint to why it started. As the cops zoom away, you know only one person you could rely on with news such as that: Your friend, Reggie.

 

Reggie was born in a smart family. They were rich, they had vacations to Las Venturas and San Fierro every 3 months. He lived a good life, everything was there when he needed it. When Reggie and you were in Grade 7, Reggie left to Liberty City to enroll into a prep school. He returned back to Los Santo's just last year to enroll into the ULS (University Los Santo's). But on the plane ride back to Los Santos, his parents died in a freak accident 20 minutes after he boarded the plane, and their grand parents were to have the money. Reggie's grand parents were the typical grand parents you see in stories: Evil, mean, and greedy. So with all of his knowledge of the world, that was useless when living as a young man in Los Santos.

 

You head towards his apartment in Jefferson, all Taxi's are not gonna be out taking fares today, and you don't have a car. He was the only source of this kind of news.

 

Edited March 18, 2007 by GlockWorkz

[Coral_City]

Nice chapter Glock. Keep on writin'

 

Edit: Excellent chapter...hope he makes it to Jefferson alive...

Edited March 18, 2007 by Coral_City

[GlockWorkz]

Nice chapter Glock. Keep on writin'

Thanks, dude. Posted another chapter xD

[Exits]

Awesome story so far.

[Sinful]

Awesome work, dude.

 

Keep it up. I know I will, lol.

[GlockWorkz]

Thanks guys xD School started, and I won't making one chapter daily, but I'll try my best to still be active.

 

Chapter 5: Searing Flesh.

Setting: Los Santos

 

You run. From Glen Park to Jefferson. Everything in the world is mute while you take your daily run, the sounds of gunshots reduced to wind blowing, the constant sounds of yelling reduced to whimpering, and the annoying sounds of explosions reduced to a fat man doing a belly flop in a pool. It's all quiet.

 

The bright orange motel stands out from everything. Sweat trickling- not trickling, waterfalls down your head, and all you think about is if the Motel is air-conditioned.

 

Reaching the motel was hard, but you reach it. The motel is cleared, and to your surprise, clean and air-conditioned. You grab a soda from the vending machine, and begin to walk up the stairs.

 

"Too quiet, Something will pop up" you thought to yourself. Every creak you made while walking up the stairs shattered your ears, you know it's a wrecked motel when it creaks like this. It amplifies x100 in the echoey halls of Jefferson Motel. Noticing that every door is not locked, you think everyone is outdoors, killing eachother recklessly.

 

You hear other creaking footsteps, these aren't yours. A Shadow shows in a wall infront of Reggie's door, so you jump into the closest room, and kept quiet. The creaking continues, luckily going the opposite direction. After you can't hear the creaking anymore, you proceed into Reggie's room.

 

You look around, but see nothing. No Reggie, nothing but his furniture. Blood is circling around the floor, and his T.V is on. You start getting worried. Knowing Reggie, he says "Violence is not the answer", so he's definately not outside, fighting.

 

"Came to look for your friend?"

A voice came from behind you. What to do?

 

"He's not here right now, please leave a message after the beep." The deviant jokes weren't funny, nor were they scary, but the voice it came from was the one that scared you. The dripping from the floor didn't do any good, either.

 

"Heheheh. If you want to find your friend, you can get his last doings from my camera."

 

F*ck.

 

The smell of alcohol and fire stank the whole room. It was clear who was behind you. The loud cackling of thick glass hitting eachother while moving made you realize.

 

You turn around, you see the Maniac with a Molotov at hand. The blood dripping was music to his ears, and the sound of your heavy breaths made him smirk. Again, his devilish smirk made you wonder why this man was made. It was like death was starring at you between the eyes, shaking in fear as he stares deeply into your soul. You come back to reality, it was the same difference.

 

He pitches the first Molotov. You lean sideways, feeling the air while the Moltov zooms past you. You were lucky that time.

 

Molotov's are like heavy artillery: Really strong, but it's reload time is slow, and every millisecond counts. You take that as an advantage, and you tackle the man down. He lands on his bag, causing all the Alcohol to leak out of his bag.

 

"DAMMIT!" The maniac shouts, but still keeps his smirk. You're still on the ground. Oh, I also didn't mention, that Molotov he pitched before the fight happened, hit Reggie's wooden table. It created a large bonfire in the middle of the room, with the alcohol flowing around everywhere, if one flow manages to hit the fire, the room will burst into flames, and it will flow throughout the whole motel.

 

You try to get up, but the maniac punches you in the face, causing you to fall on his chest. You wonder how he keeps his chest so warm, but it wasn't important, considering the building will be reduced to ash with you in it. He continues punching you in the back of the head, even if he is under you, he' beating you down. Everything is slowly getting more blurry, you need to make him stop punching. You deliver one quick punch to his nose, making him stop.

 

You stand up, and just remembered that you were keeping a knife in your pocket. The maniac stands up, too, with his camera dangling down his chin, you knew that was what you were really aiming for. You look at the alcohol, and you notice a small flow heading towards the fire. The smirk is still on the maniacs face. You need to make this quick, as quick as possible. Blood trickling down the maniacs nose, you're sure you're going to win this fight, but now time is what is needed.

 

You throw the knife, aiming for the maniacs chest, but you miss and hit is arm, instead. Blood gushing out, the maniacs scream for help shatters your ears, and the blood gushing makes you notice how one sided this fight will end up, but the maniacs smirk is still appealing. You grab his camera, and flail him around. The camera's rope snaps just as the Maniac is right infront of the fire.

 

He lands in the fire, whoopdee-doo, we should celebrate! But no, this just created more problems. When he landed on the table, it broke the table in half, causing the fire to widen and get closer to the flowing alcohol.

 

Your eyes widened. All you could see in the fire was the maniacs smirk, even when he's burning, he burns disturbingly. The fire finally touches the flow of alcohol. This is when you should start running...

 

 

...Right now.

 

 

 

 

You now are holding the camera, and you need this to find out what happened to Reggie. While running from the flame stream, you wonder how the maniac found your friend.

Edited March 20, 2007 by GlockWorkz

[Cubanwhip]

Wow...I mean...wow...this, this is what a story should be! You're writing is definetly reminiscent of Chuck Palahniuk. I have read all his books, and the way you wrote this reminds me so much of him. I applaud you. This story, is going on top of my favorites. Chuck is the reason I ever started to write. If you can keep this up, then you will go far. Keep up the excellent work.

[Sinful]

How come this fanfic still doesn't have a star?

C'mon guys, rate it good.

 

Great chapter, man, awesome.

[Pablo808]

I maybe new here, but this fanfic is a masterpiece. I read all the chapters so far, and I have to say this some great work. I'll rate it good.

[Sinful]

Yeah! A star!

Cool.

 

By the way, Glock, I added a link for this topic in my sig, hope ya don't mind.

[GlockWorkz]

Yus, a star! Thanks, everyone!

Chapter 6: The Camera

Setting: Los Santos

 

Huff. Pump. Huff. Pump. Huff.

You can hear your heart pump to the rhythm of your huffing. When fire is chasing you down a hallway, nothing matters. All you can think about is Reggie, the fire, and how rich the maniac really is behind his tattered clothing while dangling his digital camera under your chin.

 

You're seconds away from death with alcohol flowing everywhere, you wonder just how much bottles he had in his backpack. All you need to do is to run past the flow, simple, the only real danger you were in was when you were in Reggie's room. When you run away to a safe distance from the flowing fire, you finally take the Digital Camera and look at the pictures.

 

You scan through a lot of photo's with corpses, the thought just made you sick. You keep on going, until you see a picture of Reggie being tied to a dark place, only showing his face. He still looks alive in this picture. You keep going, it seems that he has a collection of pictures of Reggie, you start getting scared. Each picture was a step to torturing: one with a cigarette to the eyebrow, another with a rat in a tube and the maniac is burning the tube with a lighter, scratching his way out, and the last putting a paper bag in over his head.

 

"What?" You think to yourself. Why wasn't their any dead corpse pictures of Reggie? Then it hit you. Even with an inferno going on in Reggie's room, you bolt back. Your theory was that the maniac had his eye on Reggie for a while, and that the footsteps you heard coming out of Reggie's room was the maniac's. When you went into Reggie's apartment, the maniac came back shortly, because he lives close from Reggie's room, and went back to his own room to pack up on Alcoholic beverages for the Molotov's . The maniac wasn't finished with his torture slide show, didn't have any material for the last act, and went back to refuel. That explains how the maniac found out about Reggie, why he had a large amount of alcohol is his backpack, why he walked out of Reggie's room, and came back shortly. You start kicking the unlocked doors open to support your theory that the maniac lives close to Reggie.

Kick.

Kick.

Kick.

Bam, a room filled with pictures of victims. Bloodshed, or fire in each one. You knew this was the maniacs room. Now to close your theory.

 

F*ck.

 

The maniac was in the middle of torturing, so Reggie can't be far. You think hard. Your eyes widen. And start bolting out of the Maniacs house, and into Reggie's room.

 

If the maniac was in the middle of it all, then the torture chamber was in Reggie's own room. The Maniac left the room to get more supplies, so that means Reggie is still in the room with Hell partying in it.

 

You look into the camera again, and look closely on where he actually is. You'll take any clues on his whereabouts. All you know is that it's a dark room, enough for 1 body to fit in, and no window or lights. After 2 seconds of quick thinking, you run into his room, and dashing straight for the closet.

 

You were too fast for the fire to burn you, but it was devilishly hot in there. His Closet is locked, their is no other chance to save your friend but right here, right now. You start kicking the closet harder then you have ever kicked.

 

Bang. The door flies open, hitting Reggie's head during the process, luckily waking him up

 

"What?!" Reggie starts screaming. The heat is new to him, even with sweat running down his body. His eyes give you the impression that he is tired, it blows waking up, and finding out you're in the middle of a fire in your own home.

 

"No time." You shout. You run back to Reggie's kitchen, grab the knife from The Maniacs arm, and run back. It was pretty hard to take the knife out of Maniacs arm, considering the fact that he's being eaten by a fire breathing dragon.

 

Slowly, and carefully, you cut each mildly tough rope, and throw him out of the window. Luckily he was only in the second story, but it was still a high fall.

 

Drenched with sweat, Reggie and you lay down in the ground. You, huffing, Reggie, roaring in pain.

 

You let Reggie rest for a while.

[Coral_City]

Just read the last two chapters, and I must say, it is getting suspenseful by the minute. Great chapters Glock

 

Edit: If it reached the 2nd page -- it must be good

Edited March 22, 2007 by Coral_City

[TonyZimmzy]

I'm so into this story right now it's unbelievable Congrats on the star, you're an amazing writer.

[Serafim]

Whoa, for a minute I thought it would be boring because of much reading (no talks, only a text), but the story is amazing. Good work, man! Good rated! Even through someone rated it down, it'll help

[Sinful]

Yeah, awesome chapter as usual.

Just one little thing...

 

 

From wikipedia:

 

The first consumer camera with a liquid crystal display on the back was the Casio QV-10 in 1995, and the first camera to use CompactFlash was the Kodak DC-25 in 1996.

 

It's 1992 on your fic, right?

[Exits]

You are an awesome writer, keep this up.

[Kobe101]

I like your style of writing. I'll be following!

[[LCG]LazLoW]

Aww no next chapter yet?

 

Oh well, we'll just have to wait

 

I'm loving the story. Its going great glock, keep it up.

 

Also:

 

 

A tear ran down your face. This is wear you lived, this was your home. Everything was in there, you just couldn't believe what has happened.

 

Where*

 

Just lettin you know

[-/TNT\-]

This one of the few fanfics I've read and not got bored of fast. You have a very good style, I can see some minor errors but it isn't worth correcting them when you can be working on the next chapter!

[Exits]

Is he ever going to post again? D:

[GlockWorkz]

Yes, I'm gonna make a new chapter really soon. I'm just gonna read all the other ones to remember where I left off, and continue from there.

 

I think it was stupid of me that I stopped RIGHT when I got the star, I'll try my best for that not to happened again.

 

EDIT: Sorry if this is bringing back an old topic, I just don't want to lose all the chapters and re-write them again.