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The Man Who Once Spoke


Carbine23
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Wow! This is really good! I expect Chapter 5 coming soon...

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What do you know? Here comes Chapter 5!

 

Chapter 5: Deadly Night

 

The car’s gas tank started to make noises. “What the hell’s happening?” I said in fright. The army car eventually stopped. I peaked my eyes over to the gas meter. The car was out of gas. “God dammit!” I screamed as I pounded my hands onto the wheel honking the horn repeatedly. I put my head back against the seat and took a few deep breaths. I didn’t know how the hell I was going to get out of this desert. I looked around the area. Nothing but sand. I opened the door firmly to get out of the car. I then fell onto the ground accidentally because I had forgot that my leg had been injured and my back burnt a little. I pushed my hands against the ground to get up from the sand. I limped over to the trunk and took out my gun, a sniper rifle, ammo, water canteens, and a few supplies to keep me safe in the dead lands. “If god gets me out of this desert, then god knows what will happen with my life,” I said to myself. I started walking in an unknown direction. I didn’t know if I was going north, south, east or west. I just knew that I could be leading myself into death or another chance at life.

 

The sun was starting to plummet reach sunset to the right of me. I then knew that I was heading south. I then looked at the sun again in panic and realized something. “Oh sh*t, it’s almost night!” I screamed. I then ran as fast as I could going south to see if there was anything ahead of me. I needed to get out of the desert. Everybody knows that once the sun sets in the desert, you die from the cold. I was sweating from my running even though the temperature was getting cooler and cooler every second. I was trying as best I could with a wounded leg and a crap load of supplies on my back. Then without caution, I fell to the ground hurting my leg even more. I gave a loud scream as it felt like I had twisted my leg open. I then looked at my leg, and it was fine. I crawled over to the object I tripped over. It looked like a stone sticking out of the sand. I took both my hands, dug into the smooth sand and it was just as I expected. A stone. “Wow, I’m a freakin retard haha,” I laughed at myself. I saw a glare in a distance though. Like a pinch of light. I quickly got up supporting myself and started to run. I ran as fast I could. The glare got bigger as the sun sank lower. Then I saw a couple of buildings. “Shelter!” I screamed. I ran closer, eventually entering the small village with about 100 or more buildings. I then stopped in the middle of the street and started to breathe deeply in happiness. The men and women were staring at me. I waved my hand as I continued to catch my breath. Women were putting their hands over their kid’s faces. Men were speaking in whispers to other men. I put my hands on my hips, wiped off the dirt and then started to walk down the street.

 

Everybody was afraid of me, and they started to enter their houses in fear. I guess they didn’t like seeing white people walking down their streets. The sun was halfway sunken into the ground. I tried to find a place to stay, but everybody locked their doors. “God dammit. There’s nobody friendly here,” I whispered to myself. Then I found a big building on one of the street corners. It was big! Bigger then the small town houses. I thought that they would help me to shelter, so I walked inside.

 

“Hello!” I screamed in the main lobby. Nobody answered. The inside was decorated with lovely Arabic cloth and Islamic architecture. It looked like a hotel to me. “Hello, is anyone there!” I screamed again. Nothing answered. I then started to just stand and look around the place pacing myself back and forth. I looked into one of the hallways and started to see if any doors were unlocked. One was. I opened it and went down a long flight of stairs. It was dark down there and I heard machinery working. I continued to go down the cold stoned path in order to find out what this place was. I took out a pistol and pressed against the wall. I came to a corner where a room was. I then pulled myself from the corner and aimed into the room. Nobody was there. I put my pistol back on my belt and I looked at what was in the room. I saw bags and bags of cocaine. Bags and bags of marijuana. Bags and bags of money. And bags and bags of other drugs. “What the hell?” I said to myself. I looked around even more, cautious to see if anyone was there. I took out my pistol and held it near me in case of an attack. I then saw a world map on the wall. The map pointed trade route arrows from southeastern China to the western part of Iraq. Then the line went even further and came to a stop at a place in Florida. I wondered what it was. “Ahhhhh!” a loud scream came from behind. I turned around and a man with an AK-47 whacked me from the back of the rifle. I was knocked out.

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Chapter 6: Interrogation for the American

 

“Wake up. I said wake up you filthy American,” the Iraqi man said in a calm voice in English. I began to wake up and everything was blurry for me. Blood was dripping from the top of my forehead. “Uh, what happened?” I said confused. “Sneaking around our Mr. Ali’s factory? Shouldn’t you be in the warfront, American?” he asked me. Another man walked into the room at that point, with a rag on. To me, he looked like the leader. He then started talking to the man in Arabic. I just stared at them, trying to gain my vision back. “You have infiltrated our secret compound you dirty American. I should call the Iraqi army of Suddam Hussein right now!” he yelled at me. “So why don’t you?” I said in a sly voice. “Because then he would find out of our drug trade,” he said. “Drug trade?” I asked. “Ha. Yes, a drug trade. We buy drugs from the Asians and then we sell it to the drug addicts in America,” he said. “What do you want with me?” I asked. “We can’t have Americans coming into our territory, seeing our drugs and reporting it to the Americans. Then they’d come after us!” he explained to me. I wanted to get out of there but I couldn’t. I was tied tightly to a chair with ropes around me.

 

“The question is, what do we do with you?” the man said to me. “Why don’t you just let me free so I can piss in your face you f*cking Arab!” I screamed. He then slapped me twice across the face, violently. “Listen you filthy American! We don’t need scumbags like you around here. We might as well kill you!” he screamed. “Then do it!” I screamed back at him at the top of my lungs. He then calmed down and talked to the leader in Arabic. The leader seemed to be shaking his hand. Could this mean that I would still live? The man looked back at me and spoke in English again. “Mr. American, there’s a change of plans. We are doing a deal in a city in America. We’re bringing you a long,” he said. “For what?” I asked. “We’re going to sell you to the master so we can get a bigger benefit out of it, haha,” he chuckled with an evil laughter. The leader also laughed. I then started getting angry and I tried to untie myself by moving my chair rapidly. The man then took a bag and put it around my head. “No!” is screamed. I couldn’t see anything. It was dark. The man then took his rifle and whacked me with it from the back. I didn’t see so it came in surprise. It jerked my head back as blood started squirting out of my nose. He did it again and it jerked me back even further. I passed out and blood leaked down from my neck.

 

Chapter 7: Bad Deals Always Go Bad

 

The man carried me off from a ship onto a stairway. They carried me by the arms as I was dragging a long with the mask over my head. For weeks I was stuck in that filthy Middle Eastern ship. The weather was just as hot as the arid climates were. However there was a bigger breeze in this part of the world. The men then took me to the side and took off my mask, as the Arabic leader approached a man wearing a tropical shirt. “You got the stuff Mr. Ali?” the man asked. “Yes. Pure from Thailand. Perfect for America a long with a free slave,” Mr. Ali said in a smirk. “Pure, you say?” the man said biting his lip. He grabbed the cocaine by his right hand and stared at it. He then tossed it over to the man behind him. They stared at each other for a few seconds. The man then tossed it back to him. “Well Mr. Ali, I think we have a deal!” he said in excitement. He shook Mr. Ali’s hand with his right hand while smiling. Then he stuck his left hand in his pocket and took out a pistol. He stuck it at Mr. Ali’s head and blew a bullet in him. Mr. Ali collapsed to the floor while blood sprayed out of him.

 

A war started. All the Arabic goons started to take out their AK’s and shot at the other men. I then ran around the corner to a pair of boxes where I tried to find a sharp piece of glass to cut the rope tying my two hands. I found a bottle on the dirty boatyard floor, and smashed it with my right foot. I grabbed a piece of glass and abraded it with the rope so that it would break. A few ropes started to snap and eventually I was able to take the whole thing off. I was in relief! I haven’t had my hands free for weeks. A gunfight was happening. Plenty of Arabs and other men were dying. I ran to the stranger’s side because I wasn’t going to fight with these Arabic goons. “You need help!” I screamed at the man. “Yeah! Take this sniper rifle! Incase we need it!” he screamed at me as bullets were flying right passed us. We were hiding behind a pair of cargo and boxes in order to protect us. The man threw a grenade behind him, which ended, up blowing up a lot of the Arabs. The gunfire stopped. All the men looked around the area to see if there were any Arabs left behind. Everyone was dead. “Alright men. Nobody ever said a bad deal goes good,” he said. Then an Arab came up from behind him and held him hostage. He then took his AK-47 and sprayed the other men in the stomach. Blood poured out of their poor mouths. I was still behind the cargo. He started screaming crazy in Arabic. He then took out a pistol from his pocket ready to blow out the guy’s brains. I took out my sniper rifle and aimed it at his head. I took a shot hoping I wouldn’t miss. Boom! The sniper bullet rushed and hit his head right between his eyelids. He then let go of the man and fell to the ground. The man got up, and wiped his shirt and walked over to me.

 

“My god, you saved me!” the guy said in a Liberty City like accident. “Yeah, it was nothing,” I said. “We always knew these Arab drug dealers were goons. We were planning on killing them anyway. They sell ineffective drugs here,” he said. “Interesting,” I said. “You saved my life kiddo. Mr. V would love to meet you,” he said to me with his hands on his hips. “Mr. V?” I said. “Yes. My boss. Mr. Vercetti,” he said back.

 

 

 

Don't expect the next chapter to come as quickly as these chapters. I'm going to write the whole thing down before i post it and i got a lot of finals this week. Stay tuned for more coming soon!

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Here's when the story turns good. The parts before were prologues and crap. This is where we meet GTA characters. This is where the money and jobs comes in. And as you're expecting. Here's the first appearance of Tommy Vercetti in my story! Not a violent chapter though at all. Just an introduction to Claude meeting him.

 

Tommy Vercetti Strand

 

Chapter 8: Mr. Vercetti

 

The car pulled up along the cleaned sidewalk that absorbed the beautiful light that the sun produced, high in the sky. Never have I been in such a beautiful place. There were beaches without dead people, an airport that actually sells stuff, and I didn’t see any crappy project buildings here. This place was great! From what the guy told me, it was called Vice City in Florida. It was hard to believe though that everything shifted from childhood, to war, and to this. So anyway, I exited the 1985 Infernus which was a red cobalt colored sports car The front of the place we arrived at, had palm trees sticking out of the green grassy marshes. So we walked up the sidewalk because the entrance was at the left side of the stone peach colored wall. We made a right and up the driveway. I never seen mansions like this. Beautiful Spanish styled house with a red crimson roof, peach colored stone and white outlines. We walked up with slow movements up the wide steps in front of the massive doorway. We rang the bell, waiting patiently.

 

The door opened at a steady movement. A red curly haired man with glasses opened it with an extravagant manner. “Hey! Paul! You’re back! How did that deal with the Arabs go?” Ken screamed as spit bounced off his mouth onto mine. “Knock it off Ken. Where’s Tom?” the man said, or should I say Paul. “Tom? He’s upstairs, doing his usual sh*t,” Ken told us. We started to walk slowly in but then Ken stuck his arms out like he was blocking us. “Woah there Paulie, who’s this cat?” Ken said as he had his arms out. “This guy? Names Claude. War veteran. He kills spicks like you who don’t let us in,” Paul said. “Well then. Welcome to our home,” Ken said as he shifted his arms to the inside of the house. Me and Paulie started to walk in towards the massive stairs as Ken stayed near the door. I whispered in Paul’s ear. “Our home? Is Tom and Ken gay for each other?” I asked laughing a little bit. “No, that’s just his jackass lawyer. Not really a jackass, just an annoying one,” Paul said to me as we dragged ourselves up the stairs. A man walked out of the big open room at the top of the stairs in a nice Italian style suit. Like a freshly made from Vienna.

 

“Paulie!” the man cried out to him. Paulie ran up the stairs and hugged him like they were brothers. “It’s good to see you Tom. I’m always here to support you,” Paul said to him. “How’d the deal go?” he said as he put his hands on Paul’s shoulders. I just stood there like a weird stalker listening in on people’s conversations. “Great. We lost everybody Tommy. We got all the Arabs though, but they backfired at us just when we backfired on them. Luckily this bastard here saved me!” Paul said as he turned his head towards me. Tommy released his hands from Paul and walked down the stairs towards me. He stared at me for a couple of seconds. I just laid my eyes on him like I didn’t know what to say. He then took out his right hand and placed it in mid-air. I stared at it, and took out my right hand. Both of our hands met each other and we made a tight grip pulling up and down. Such satisfaction filled my heart.

 

We walked into Tommy’s office at the top of the stairs. Paintings filled the room, a long with a nice carpet from China, a TV security camera network and a nice red leather chair behind a 5 star desk. Tommy rested his back as he fell onto the chair with colliding force. He released his noise of comfort and then placed his hands together on the desk. “So Claude. Do you have any experience in killing?” he said to me. “What?” I said to him. “Hahaha, maybe I shouldn’t rush into things. Seriously Claude we got a lot of sh*t going on down here. We got drug addicts, crazy old white people, Haitians, Cubans, bikers, sluts, and other Hispanics. This city is turning to sh*t as we speak. I rule this city Claude. I’m the richest man here and nobody could stop me. Did my fellow betrayer Sonny stop me from gaining my goals? No. Many people betray me Claude. Can’t let that happen,” he said in a long statement. “Well ugh, I’m sure you can trust me. And to answer your question. Yes I’ve killed people in the war and some at home,” I said. “Where are you from Claude? Liberty City?” he asked. I thought for a second as to what I should say. “The Midwest sir” I said as a lie. “The Midwest, eh? Son, I grew up in the slums of Saint Marks in Old Liberty. I had an abusive father but I survived though by killing him. If you thought you had a hard time back at home for whatever reasons, think again. Be lucky you didn’t have my childhood,” Tommy said. I rolled my eyes with one thought through my head. “I’ve been through hell too” my mind spoke.

Edited by Carbine23
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Chapter 9: Malibu

 

Tommy treated me that day. Friendly guy he was. Later that afternoon, him and Paul drove me to my new safehouse or place to live. It was an Ocean Beach Apartment. It had a lovely view of the sunrise and the sight of hundreds of old and young people tanning their bare skin to burnt crisp on the beaches of Vice City. Even Paul said that Tommy started out here after a certain deal went bad in his past in the last 10 or so years. Similar to something that happened to me, eh? So at that time, I was all settled in.

 

“So you in the mood to dance and eat the night out Claude?” Paul asked me. “Sure. I haven’t even eaten for a while. I’m starving,” I said as I expressed my hunger and rubbed my hands around my stomach. “Well we know a hot place where we can go,” Tommy said. “So…..what is there to eat there?” I asked Tommy. “P*ssy!” Tommy said and him and Paul laughed while I made a little laugh. “All jokes aside Claude, just dance the night away and drink like a drunken goat,” Paul said. We exited out of my new apartment. The sun was setting in the west of Vice City. The sky on our side was getting to a dark blue shade. It was like the banner between heaven and hell. One side was light, while the other side was dark. The street my apartment on had a large promenade type place. Across the street was the beach, but Ocean Beach Avenue was full of lit, colorful buildings. So we entered Tommy’s car and started to drive up north a bit. Paul told me that Vice City wasn’t that divided as a lot of cities were in the USA. We finally arrived at a purple-lit fired club with a palm tree on the logo. It read one word. Malibu.

 

Young chicks and fine men were dancing to modern and 80’s music. Tommy and Paul escorted me to a seat in the corner and we sat down. A waiter came over to us. “Mr. Vercetti. Pleasure at having you tonight. What may I get you?” the waiter asked generously. “Get me ugh, a nice Scotch, and Paul here will have a red wine,” Tommy told the waiter. “And what about the other guy?” he asked. Tommy stared at me and observed me for a bit and tilted his head back at the waiter. “Get him a beer,” he said to the waiter. I actually did like beer, which was ironic because Tommy made the right choice. “Lucky guess,” I said to him. “You’ll get used to it,” Tommy said back. A Hispanic looking woman came over to our table wearing expensive clothes and so much jewelry that it could crush her down to the ground. “There she is! Mercedes! My love!” Tommy shouted and ran towards the girl in open arms. They both hugged and kissed each other. Tommy then turned around and introduced me to her. “Claude, this is my fiancé. Mercedes,” Tommy told me. “Nice to meet you,” Mercedes said as she stuck her hand out at me. I shook it with a weak grip.

 

So we basically laughed, told jokes, told stories and pissed ourselves all over our pants as we got drunk in the Malibu Club. “Tommy, wait here a second. I got to go for a smoke,” Mercedes said to Tommy as she exited the booth. “Sure thing sweetheart. As matter of fact, I gotta take a piss,” Tommy said as he also exited the booth. I finally spoke to Paul when they were both gone. “Didn’t Tommy say this city was being corrupted by the Hispanic? If that’s true then why is he dating one?” I asked Paul. “Tom’s like that Claude. No matter where he goes he judges people for what they are, when he f*cks them anyway. Any people from here, Liberty City, Carcer City, Old Liberty, Tokyo, Los Santos, San Fierro, London, Paris and Lost Heaven. Unless they’re Italian than he’s got no problem. Are you Italian Claude?” Paul asked me. “Yeah. My paternal grandfather came from Italy. Venice or some sh*t. I’m mixed though with the Germans and Irish,” I said to him. “Oh. Hahaha. Don’t tell him that. He’ll go nuts knowing you’re only a half Italiano or whatever,” Paul said. Tommy then came back to the booth all relieved from his piss.

 

10 minutes passed since he came back from his brief piss. “Where the f*ck is that woman? I swear to god these Florida natives are the slowest I ever seen. Almost as bad as the spicks in Los Santos,” Tommy said as he made a deep breath. “Maybe she’s smokin more than 2 cigarettes?” Paul said. “Claude, go check her out for me. Consider it your first assignment,” Tommy said. I got up from the booth, and squeezed through the crowds of dancing young adults who were sweating like cows. I exited the door and I didn’t see anybody there. “Where the f*ck is she?” I whispered to myself. Then I heard a little moaning noise. I turned my head to the right. There was a back alleyway facing the river in Ocean Beach. I started to walk towards it. The noise was getting louder, the streets were getting dirtier, and the sweat on my head was dripping more off the tip of my face. I then turned to the left of a small workhouse on the edge and I saw a disturbing image.

 

A biker looking person or a punk was f*cking Mercedes. “Stop! Ah!” Mercedes moaned and screamed. “Shut the f*ck up you c*nt!” the biker punk said as he went even harder on her. “Hey! Step away from the woman! Now!” I screamed at him. The man stopped going in his sexual motion and looked back at me. His breath smelt like rotten decaying bodies, and the yellow scars and brown fragments on his teeth made him look even uglier. He zipped his pants and walked towards me. He took out his pierced tongue and licked his lips, and then took his fist and punched me right in the face. I collapsed to the ground as I coughed blood from my mouth. The biker punk grabbed Mercedes and got on a motorcycle. I quickly got up, coughing more blood and got on a nearby motorcycle parked. By the time I arrived, the biker left. This was going to be a hell of a night.

Edited by Carbine23
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Chapter 10: Highway to Hell

 

The biker made a right out of the alleyway and onto the street, going north. I followed him with caution and made a right a long with him. He then continued north, dodging the cars that were coming towards us. Mercedes was on the back holding onto him, knowing she would die if she jumped out due to the tremendous speed he was going by. Her hands were also tied together because the biker put them on so she couldn’t escape while he raped her. A car slid past me, and knocked off my left mirror. The glass shattered in the wind and cracked through mid-air. Tiny micro-sized particles landed on my face and impaled my skin. Tiny cuts of blood surfaced the face, and opened up. The blood leaked from the cut to my chin and leaked off as it was carried by the wind. The biker then took out a revolver with his left hand, and shot three round at me. The third round deflected off the light and shattered it. The front light of my motorcycle died out, and the world turned darker. A black car came in my view, and there was no way I could stop my motorcycle.

 

Bam! My motorcycle crashed into the back of the black car with large speed. The crash made a huge dent into the back of the vehicle, as the black car’s lights shattered from the impact. The crash jerked me, and ejected me into the air. I was flying like Superman through mid-air, only I couldn’t even fly. I shouted as I flew, but amazingly the impact caused me to fly really far, and I eventually landed further ahead of the biker. I fell onto the street near the sidewalk, colliding with it and hearing bones ache through my body. Blood poured out of my mouth like a fountain. I washed it off and started to crawl towards the sidewalk where a garbage can was. The biker was coming towards me quickly, aiming his revolver. I got to the garbage can, and knocked it down. I saw a beer bottle in it, and I took it out and put it in my hand. “Your mine b*tch!” the biker screamed. I threw the bottle at him, as he came really close. The bottle hit his head and shattered into the air. The glass impaled his deep blue eyes and made him spin out of control. He hit a post and he then fell through the air and landed on a sharp pole. The pole impaled into his body, causing blood to form around the pole, and raindrops of blood came onto the street. Mercedes fell off the motorcycle a little bit, but not that much.

 

I crawled towards here, eventually getting up and walking but my body was aching like never before. “Mercedes. Mercedes, you okay? Mercedes?” I said as I shook my hand onto her body seeing if she was still alive. She got up, hurt badly and afraid. I took my coat off and put it around her tan skinned arms with blood exiting them. “Take me home,” she started to cry. I supported her as she got up, and started walking down the street with her.

 

We got a taxi, and he drove us to Tommy’s mansion. Me and Mercedes walked up the stairs hoping he was there. I knocked on the door loud and hard, holding her with my arm. Ken answered the door. “Holy sh*t, what happened to you guys? Rough night, eh?” Ken chuckled. “Oh god, shut up! Where’s Tommy?” I shouted. “Easy, he’s right here,” he stuttered a little bit. “Oh god, you’re alright!” Tommy shouted as he hugged Mercedes. She started to explode into tears. “I thought I’d never see you again!” she cried. Tommy gave a stare at me. “I can explain, sir,” I said to Tommy. He shook his head in a positive manner. “It’s okay Claude. As long as she’s safe I won’t ask what happened,” Tommy said to me. I raised my eyebrow and left the mansion. I walked down the stairs of the mansion and got another taxi to take me to my new apartment. I arrived there and walked up the stairs. I washed off some of the bloodstains I got and then I finally made it to the bed. Never have I felt so good from a aching day. I got caught up in a deal between Arabs and Tommy’s men, I met the biggest crime lord in Vice City, got my own apartment, went to the Malibu and saved Tommy’s fiancé. What a day. Can’t wait till tomorrow.

 

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ChocolatePie

Really great story.

Gripping for sure.

 

I can easily say the best story I have read on this forum easy.

 

Can't wait to see more!

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I can easily say the best story I have read on this forum easy.

That is because you have 4 posts total.

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Well he could've been spectating this forum for a couple of months or years before he officially became a member.

 

Chapter 11: The Devil Knocked On My Door

 

The alarm clock rang on the right side of the bed. Its annoying loudness drove me insane. I took a fist and punched it repeatedly until it stopped ringing. It fell down to the floor in broken pieces. “Dammit, now I have to buy a new one,” I whispered in tiredness. I got up from my bed and stretched to relax my muscles, then I went back down to the bed in pain. My back still hurt me because of the long fall I made. I think I needed to go to the hospital. I called Tommy up on the cell phone. It started ringing and somebody different picked up. “Hello, Tommy Vercetti’s office how may I help you?” Ken said. “Ugh, Ken, nice to speak to you. Where’s Tommy?” I asked him. “Tommy’s going golfing today with his buddies. Why? What’s the problem?” Ken asked. “Ugh, nothing. My back is killing me from yesterday’s fall. I think I need to go to the emergency room,” I said to Ken. “Well if you can still talk and sh*t, then you must be ok. You probably need relaxing, but just to make sure. The hospital is in southern Ocean Beach, near the mall. Hope you feel better Claude,” Ken said as he hung up. I shut the phone off, and got dressed. As soon as I got a plain shirt on, a loud knock came to the door. “Who is it?” I screamed. No answer. I came closer to the door. “I said, who is it?” I screamed again even louder. “We got a delivery for ya,” they said. I stood confused, until the door smashed open and knocked me to the ground.

 

Three heavy, sweaty, bearded bikers came into the apartment stairs. I was on the ground holding my nose. One of the bikers took his right hand and grabbed me by my front collar and rose me to his forehead. “It’s judgement day. You kill one of our guys, we kill you,” he said as he raised his shiny knife reflecting the Vice City sun off it. My hands were holding onto his, trying to prevent them from stabbing me. The knife drew closer to my neck. Then a pedestrian walked by and saw what was happening. “Oh my god, call the police!” she screamed as she started to run, taking her phone out. The biker turned his head towards the door, and ordered the other biker to go after her. That was my chance. I took my foot and knocked him straight in the nuts. He then released me and dropped to the floor in pain. The second biker standing there charged at me with a knife. I took the knife that the biker dropped and plunged straight into the second biker’s stomach. He screamed in pain as I continuously stabbed him with the sharp, shiny blade which continued to get even duller with every ounce of blood spreading its wings all over it. After 10 stabs in the stomach, I let go and he stood there with a blank stare, choking and ready to die. I then took my knife and slashed it across his neck. The line of incision on his neck started to bleed a waterfall and he stood there for 10 seconds and then dropped to the ground.

 

The third biker came back from trying to stop the woman. “You little bastard!” he screamed as he charged towards me. I took the knife in the air and was ready to stab him. Then the first biker who dropped from a ballsack kick, got up and wrapped his arm around me, preventing me from killing the third biker. His arm was choking me and I could feel blood being trapped in my raw veins. The third biker took out a gun and walked towards me. As I choked, I took my feet and kicked him in his ballsack. As he fell to the ground, he pulled the trigger, which charged a bullet into the first biker’s left leg. He dropped me to the ground, and I quickly crawled for the gun while choking my lungs out. I picked up the gun next to the screaming man and got up. I walked over to the first biker, catching my breath. I pointed the gun, dead at his head. “I think you got it the wrong way. It’s judgement day for you,” I said in a calm voice. I released the trigger, and the bullet penetrated his forehead, knocking his head down and releasing an instant burst of blood onto the walls and my shirt. I then turned around and aimed at the third biker who was trying to get up from his knockdown. I shot him three times, each time jerking his back the other way and spurting out blood onto the floor, making a nice red tint to it. The final bullet made him a dead man.

 

The cops came a few minutes after the bloody battle. Luckily the woman who called the cops in the beginning, was still alive. I guess the third biker never got her. She explained how I killed them through self-defense and I was off the hook. They gave me a ride to the hospital for my injuries. Ken was right. I needed relaxation and was lucky that I didn’t break any bones in my back. Who would’ve though?

 

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ChocolatePie
I can easily say the best story I have read on this forum easy.

That is because you have 4 posts total.

This is because I decided to make an account 4 post ago.

I've been reading this forum for awhile now, never felt like posting tho.

 

Too much fan boy wars/flaming.

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I can easily say the best story I have read on this forum easy.

That is because you have 4 posts total.

This is because I decided to make an account 4 post ago.

I've been reading this forum for awhile now, never felt like posting tho.

 

Too much fan boy wars/flaming.

Ah, alright, never mind then. No offense intended. Welcome to the forums. turn.gif

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That is because you have 4 posts total.

Those words make me feel like my story is crap to you. Thank you very much.

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Those words make me feel like my story is crap to you. Thank you very much.

Wasn't what I meant. But when someone makes an extraordinary claim that something is the best they've ever seen without experiencing anything else, it's a little unfair to the other writers here. So no, it wasn't directed at you or your story. turn.gif

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Those words make me feel like my story is crap to you. Thank you very much.

Wasn't what I meant. But when someone makes an extraordinary claim that something is the best they've ever seen without experiencing anything else, it's a little unfair to the other writers here. So no, it wasn't directed at you or your story. turn.gif

ok never mind then. I get paranoid sometimes. Still looking forward to future chapters in the Kingdom icon14.gif

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It's all good, dude.

 

I should really get around to reading this. All I hear are good things.

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Hahaha, yeah good things indeed. Check it out sometime.

 

Chapter 12: Make the Green Turn Red

 

I rang the door to Tommy’s mansion with a still sore back from the bike incident, and the wrestling with three fat bikers. I could still smell their sweat burning on my skin from the hot Florida sun. Ken entered the door. “Claude! Oh my god! How’s the back man?” he shouted as he went to go hug me. As he hugged me, my back hurt even more. “Ah, dammit! Get off me Ken! Your making my back burn!” I said as I backed him off. “Hehe, I’m a friendly guy Claude. Just get used to it,” Ken told me. “Yeah. Well ugh, I came to say thanks for the help. Wouldn’t think to go to a hospital or rest. I would just try to bear the pain,” I told him. “Your welcome Claude. Oh, and ugh Tommy wants to see you for a second. Hey Tom! Get over here!” Ken screamed at Tommy. Tommy walked over looking all mad like somebody just ripped him off at a horse track betting game. “Good to see you Claude. You feeling better?” Tommy said trying to keep his anger in from the looks of it. “Yeah I’m fine, but….” I said as Tommy stopped me short. “Good! Because you’re doing some sh*t for me right now! Ken! Explain!” Tommy shouted at Ken. “Yes, sir! Ok, so Claude. Tommy’s been versing this cat at the Leaf Links Golf Course named called Eddy Myers or some sh*t like that. The guy’s a real jackass lets just put it at that. When Tommy loses, he gets mad. Eddy’s been mocking him because he’s a better golf player. Eddy don’t know that Tommy is the big man in Vice, but we’re gonna show him. That meaning you. He’s over at Leaf Links Golf Course, the island just north of us. Ask the man at the front for him, and you’ll find him. Make the green turn red Claude!” Ken explained to me. I walked down the stairs and into my car.

 

About 20 minutes later, I arrived at the Leaf Links Golf Course. I pulled out of the car seeing old, ugly men looking like they’re wearing Scottish kilts, walking up to play a game of good ole’ golf. I walked up to the front and asked the guy if he knew who Mr. Myers was. “Hey ugh, pal. Do you know where Eddy Myers is?” I asked. “Yeah, what do you want with him?” the man asked. “I hear he’s a big demon down here. Might as well give him a verse to see if it’s true,” I said to him. “Fine but you’ll get your ass kicked. He’s hanging out on the deck. He’ll be the guy with the yellow shirt, gray mustache, blue eyes and tan cap,” the front man said to me. “Thank you sir,” I politely said to him back. I walked straight forward onto the field through a tunnel. After the tunnel there was a deck to the right. I walked up to the deck to see if I could find him. I’ve never seen so many old people around. It was horrifying. I saw one bright yellow shirt in the crowd. It must’ve been him, especially since he had so many people surrounding him. I walked over to the greatest golf player in Vice City.

 

“Mr. Myers?” I said at him as I walked up to his table. “Yes youngster, what do you want? You want me to kick your ass?” he said. Everybody started laughing like lunatics. I now knew why Tommy had a reason to hate this crazy bastard. “Very funny sir. I figured I’d go on a 1 vs. 1 with you. Ya know, just for the fun of it,” I said to him. “Fun? Fun! Get the f*ck out of here and go watch your big toy trucks play at Hyman memorial stadium or some sh*t!” he said to me. I banged the table with my right fist. “Verse me old man!” I said in an angry voice. “Ha. Sure, why not kid. You people stay behind. I won’t be gone for too long,” he said in his humorous voice. People started laughing. That laughter raged my fuel engine to kill him with desire.

 

So I wasn’t good at golf, but that wasn’t the point. We played and played some more, and he kept winning. He kept taunting at me and making fun of how much I sucked. By the 18th hole I was gonna knock him dead. Everytime he made fun of my actions, I wanted to kill him more and more. We finally got to the 18th hole. Eddy Myers, the worlds greatest Vice City golf player won by a lot. “Hahaha, not even a youngster like you could beat me. Why don’t you go run home you little f*ck and complain about how hard your life was when you don’t know the meaning of hard,” he said to me. That last part of the sentence fueled me right there! The part when he said that I should go home and complain about how hard my life was when I don’t know the meaning of hard. My purple veins started to grow and stick out of my head. Anger rolled through my blood when I heard that. “You wanna know what Mr. Myers?” I asked him. “What? What more is there to know?” he said. “It’s judgement day for you,” I said. “What?” he said in confusion. I raised my golf club and whacked him across the face.

 

He collapsed to the ground putting his arms over his face. I took the golf club in a vertical position high in the sky and stormed it down fast with fury and hit him hard near the head. I did this repeatedly, watching the blood leak from his nose and hearing the noise of the club’s impact. He finally took his arms away from his head because of all the pain. Then I struck the golf club at his head, watching him spaz out like a stroke and watching the head get damaged with the clubs head. Blood started to leak from his head as the club cracked his skull. I finally stopped. He was a dead man. I got no blood on me however. Only blood on the green grass, just like Ken told me to do.

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Chapter 13: One-Armed Man

 

“Excellent job Claude!” Tommy said as he banged his wineglass full of champagne against mine and Ken’s wineglasses. “Yeah, I actually thought that guy would never rest in peace or hell,” Ken said. I sipped some champagne, taming the disgusting alcohol in my mouth as a celebratory event for my golf kill success. As Tommy was drinking his champagne, his eyes grew and he put down the glass quickly like he had to tell me something important. “Oh! Almost forgot Claude! As a notice for you success on your first job, I offer you this,” Tommy said as he reached something in his pocket. He took out $300 and put it in his hand. “$300?” I said confused. “Yeah, but don’t even think of spending this on some hooker to f*ck around with. You need protection Claude and I know a good friend that could help you. His name’s Phil Cassidy. He’s on Vice City’s Western Island on the west end near a junkyard. Buy yourself a pistol incase of an emergency situation,” Tommy said. “Alright. Thanks Tom,” I said as I turned around and headed towards the door. “And remember Claude. Don’t waste that money on other sh*t!” Tommy screamed as I continued walking.

 

I reached the junkyard location Tommy was talking about. It was a small little trailer park. The smell of filth and scum roared through the air like a stampede. Nothing was fresh and beautiful about this place. The sluggish, muddy ground drew dirt to my shoes. There was a man sitting with a shotgun in one hand on a little old porch with his head slumped over. So what was in the other hand? Nothing. I walked over to him a little afraid. “Ugh, excuse me. I’m looking for Phil Cassidy? Do you know where he is?” I said to him. His eyes opened, and he stood up and aimed his shotgun at me. He shot off a bullet and it hit a tin can outside. “Whatcha doin trasspassin on my property ya spick!” he said in a southern type accident with his gun pointed at me. “Relax man!” I said to him with my arms raised in the air while his gun was pointing at me. “Ya know what? I might have one arm that I lost in Nicaragua, but the other one Is good enough to kill spicks like you!” he screamed. “Tommy Vercetti sent me!” I screamed back. The man put his gun down calmly, and then started laughing.

 

“Hahaha, sorry brother. Man, that stuff was bullsh*t what I said,” the man said. “What, the part about you thinking I was a trespasser?” I asked him. “Nah, the part of losing my arm. Didn’t lose it in know war. Blew myself up with boomshine, and your master Tommy Vercetti saved my ass. Wouldn’t been alive without him. So, what brings you here stranger?” the man asked me. He sat down on his porch and patiently awaited an answer. “Well I’m looking for a man name Phil Cassidy?” I asked. “Nope. Sorry. Can’t introduce ya to him,” the man said. “Why not?” I asked. “Because, I’m him!” the man said as he started to laugh. “Oh, you’re a funny guy. Anyway, I was hoping you could fix me up with some heat,” I asked. “Heat? Isn’t it hot enough in Vice already!” Phil said and laughed even harder. My eyes rolled because of his retarded humor. "I’m, I’m, I’m just kidding. Hahaha, I’m a laughable man. Come on I’ll show you to the back,” Phil said as he got up and walked to the back of the trailer.

 

In the back was a table with a large black blanket over it. Phil took the blanket and removed it. Below it, laid a big set of guns ranging from snipers, rifles, submachine guns, grenades and melee. “Yup. I’m one crazy son of a b*tch,” Phil said. “You don’t say?” I said sarcastically and amazed at the gun set. “Well watcha interested in? We’ve got AK-47’s. One of the cheaper assault rifles but good enough for killin some men! Then we got the Uzi submachine gun. The drive-by weapon of choice. I’ve got a katana sword if you’re interested in making your own sushi, hahaha. Then we got the……” Phil said as I interrupted his last few words. “Don’t you just have a common pistol? Ya know? One at least $300 or less,” I said. “Ha. Of course. I’ve got everything,” Phil said as he picked up a pistol from the table and handed it to me. I took it out of his hand and examined it. “Well it ain’t the most modern one, but it gets the job done. Colts are some of the best and oldest pistols around,” Phil said. I examined it some more, visioning all the bloodstains that would replace its grime service. “I’ll take it,” I said as I stared at the pistol.

 

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sorry smile.gif

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Chapter 14: Pay Up: Part 1

 

So it’s been 2 days since I got my new, ugly pistol. Wasn’t that bad, but I would’ve preferred a newer edition. My cell phone rang. It was the one that Tommy gave me after I started working for him. I pressed the button to talk, ending the annoying ring tone. “Yo Claude, get over here for a second. We’ve got some business to discuss,” Tommy replied. “Is it time to use my pistol?” I asked. “No. Just get over here,” Tommy answered.

 

I entered Tommy’s extravagant mansion, wondering what the hell he wanted. “Claude! Good you’re here. Boy, am I angry,” he said in a bad mood. “What’s the problem Tom?” I asked. “Those sh*tfaced Cubans living in Little Havana. I supported them during their raid on Little Haiti, and they haven’t paid me back yet! I’m not a patient man Claude!” Tommy screamed at me, moving his hands in crazy motions. Paulie entered the room wondering why Tommy was so angry. “Jesus Tom, what’s gotten into you?” Paulie asked. “Nothing Morrelli. Just the usual pay day,” Tommy said as he rubbed his hands onto his face. “Cubans?” Morrelli asked. “Yeah. All of those Hispanic f*cks. Claude, do me a favor and collect the pay from the Cubans at Umberto’s Cuban Café. Now. Paulie will go with you,” Tommy said as he started to pour himself a glass of vodka with liquid missing the glass and leaking onto the table.

 

Paulie and me drove across the bridge into the western island of Vice City. “You ever been to Cuba?” Paulie asked. “No, have you?” I asked him. “Yup. Not a fun place to be? Have you ever been out of the states?” Paulie asked me. “Yeah. Iraq. Very fun place to be,” I said sarcastically as I looked out of the car window as Paulie drove behind the wheel. Paulie made a smirk from my sarcasm, and continued to drive. The neighborhood soon changed like the time I met Phil Cassidy. Everything turned into dirt and scum. Its dullness ruined the look of the southern blue sky. Poverty was around every corner. Men in white sleeveless shirts were rendezvousing every 5 houses we passed. We arrived at the place called Umberto’s Café. Interesting place. I could only guess that the red paint used for the help wanted sign in the front window was made from real human blood. “Here we are. The scum of Vice City,” Paulie said.

 

Me and Paulie entered the café’s wooden-glass door. Right as we walked in, the smoke formed a mask around our faces. The smoke was so dense, the place turned to a haze. The smell of illegal marijuana and 40 year old alcohol dissolved into the air like salt water. The bartender and the Cuban scum eating in the café looked at us. I guess Paulie’s fancy suit made it obvious that we were looking for trouble. “Is Mr. Umberto here?” Paulie asked patiently. Everybody just looked at him, not making a noise. Their eyes were like demons watching you. The kind that could give you nightmares. “No? Ok. Guess we have to do this the hard way,” Paulie said as he took out a revolver from his suit pocket. Nobody made a noise. “I’ll say it again. Tell me where Umberto Robino is?” Paulie yelled. Nobody made a sound. “Paulie you sure you know what your doing?” I whispered to him. Paulie then pulled the trigger and a bullet penetrated the ceiling leaving a loud noise. “Where the f*ck is Robino!” Paulie screamed at them. He was so angry that the veins began to pop out of his skin. A man then came down the stairs from the back of café. Paulie aimed his gun at him. The man was holding two bags.

 

“You there? What’s in the bag?” Paulie screamed with the gun aimed at the man. The man ran out of the back. “Sh*t! Claude, go after him. I’ll see if I can corner him!” Paulie screamed at me. Paulie ran out the front door as I ran out the back. The man was struggling while running with the two large bags in his hands. I ran towards him, sprinting across the litter on the streets and the mold. As I got close to him, I raised my leg in the air. As I got close to him, I let it down with force, kicking him forward and knocking him off balance. The man tried to get up from his knockdown. I took my foot in the air and knocked him down against his back. “Don’t try to get up!” I screamed at him. I flipped his body over with my arms. The sun shined straight into his face and blinded him while he was moving his hands over his face trying to block it. I got down to the ground and pulled my fist back. Then I pushed my fist forward knocking him in the nose. He started scream as his nose cracked and caused blood to leak out of hit. I punched him again 3 times in the face. Bruises started to appear on his face, damaging his skin tissue. Paul turned around the corner. “Claude you got him!” Paulie screamed. He got down the ground and examined what was in the bag while the injured man was making small screams of pain. “Just as I thought. The Cubans were trying to hide the cash,” Paulie stated.

 

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Please guys, i need more feedback. I think my story's a little underrated in the writing section. I get great replies, but a lot of people who are normally on here don't read it. Here's Chapter 14.

 

Chapter 15: Pay Up: Part 2

 

“Why would the Cubans hide the cash?” I asked Paulie. “What do you mean, why would they hide it? They’re obviously pissed that we keep taking their money and they aint earning anything out of it,” Paulie said as he closed the bag. We heard footsteps come from behind us, each step sending a vibration into our ears. We heard the clicking of a gun, and I turned my head. Three Cuban gangsters with black bandanas held guns against our heads. “Look at you big boys. Supposed to be the big Italianos down here. Looks like you got f*cked up the wrong alleyway,” the Cuban said in his Cuban accident. “Listen we’re just following orders here,” Paulie said. “Orders? You don’t have to take orders from some dictator who thinks he can control every gang in Vice! You see this sh*tty neighborhood! We can fix it up if your boss didn’t collect his cash from us!” the Cuban screamed with each spit of saliva landing on our faces. “We helped you in your war with Little Haiti. You owe us!” Paulie screamed. “F*ck Tommy Vercetti!” the Cuban screamed as he drew his gun even closer to us, about to let go of the trigger.

 

I took out my leg and spinned it against his leg, knocking him down on his back. He fell on the street with his back, letting go of the gun. I took it quickly and then spun around on my back and shot the second Cuban gangster. The bullet hit his chest area, and squirt some blood onto the street. I then took a second shot for the head. A bullet hit his head, with a squirt of blood flying into mid-air and landing on Paulie’s suit. Paulie then took out his gun and shot the third cuban in the leg three times. The Cuban fell down onto his back and his head against the concrete street, killing him. I got up in relief. Then the first Cuban, who I knocked down, got up and held me by my neck, aiming the gun at Paulie. Paulie acted quickly and took two shot at the Cuban. The bullet hit both of his eyes, blinding him. He fell to the ground, screaming in pain, and cursing in Spanish. We got up and stared at him, as he was crying. All of the Cuban citizens were running away or putting their hands over their eyes and walking away pretending that they didn’t see anything. “Claude, while I enjoy this Cuban crying in pain, have a little chat with Umberto,” Paulie said to me.

 

I walked into the café. The men were staring down at the table, afraid to lift their heads up to the man with the gun. I was lucky to have gained that mans pistol, because I accidentally left mine at the safehouse. Silly me. “Ok. Where is Umberto Robino?” I screamed in the café loudly. The man behind the bar raised his hand and said in a sly tone. “I’m Umberto,” he said. “Everybody get out. Now!” I screamed with the gun in my hand. Everybody cautiously raised from their seats, and walked out of the café. Umberto started laughing. “Look at you, big man with the gun,” Umberto laughed. “No time for jokes! You were trying to hide the money from Tommy Vercetti,” I said to him with the gun pointed at him. “Son, put down the gun,” Umberto said with no fear. I put it down slowly to my thigh. “Come. Sit,” Umberto, said as he exited the bar and came to the seat on the side. I sat down in the booth, facing him on the other side. “Now. You accuse me of hiding the money from my old friend Tommy,” Umberto said to me. “Yeah. That’s right. What do you Cubans have against him,” I asked. “Oh, a lot of things. Tommy was a good kid back then, and he even helped me out with some problems. Then when he killed his old boss, he had a lust for power. He started stealing money, abusing gangs and showing his face all around town. So did I really try to hide the money? Yes. Did I send those goons to kill you after you achieved it? No. You see, all the men have their personal feelings, so they do whatever they want to do when they see trouble,” Umberto explained to me.

 

“Very interesting story you have there,” I said to him. “Do you like Tommy?” Umberto asked. “Yeah. He’s a great guy. He helped me out when I was in trouble and stuff,” I said to him. He shook his head, biting his tongue. “What’s your name kid?” Umberto asked. “Claude sir,” I said politely. “Claude. If you need some more cash, come work for me sometime and visit me. Don’t let Tommy know about it though,” Umberto said to me. “Ok. I promise not to tell,” I said. I raised from my seat, and shook Umberto’s hand. Then I left the café. I wondered to myself, what should I do? Should I tell Tommy that Umberto tried to hide the money and offered me a job, or should I tell him that he gave us the money and that was the end of it? When me and Paulie arrived at the mansion, I’ve made up my mind by then.

 

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Please guys, i need more feedback. I think my story's a little underrated in the writing section. I get great replies, but a lot of people who are normally on here don't read it.

I'd like to if it weren't for the fact that it's updated so often and I work a lot. I can try to check it out when I get home later. icon14.gif

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Please guys, i need more feedback. I think my story's a little underrated in the writing section. I get great replies, but a lot of people who are normally on here don't read it.

I'd like to if it weren't for the fact that it's updated so often and I work a lot. I can try to check it out when I get home later. icon14.gif

Sorry man, i just get mad when i work hard on something and nobody rates it. It's just that i see other people writing stories and they get commented right away because they are famous in the writing section. I don't think its fair though. I really appreciate it man, and i continue to wait for the Kingdom. And the reason why the story keeps getting update is because it's BIG. Really big in fact. He goes to all the cities in the GTA series literally, and we're only in Vice City at the stage. It's a GTA style story where he works for people and does jobs (starting from Part 2). So it's a big story, and i update it so it doesn't fall to the bottom of the page. So unfortunately, here's chapter 16 biggrin.gif

 

Chapter 16: Delivery for Mr. Vercetti

 

“Claude! You got the money I asked for?” Tommy said as he approached me at the bottom of the stairs in his mansion. “Yeah, it’s right here. We walked into the shop, and Umberto gave it to us right away,” I said with a lie that me and Paulie made up. “Good. Come up the office for a second, so we can count the cash,” Tommy said as he started walking up the stairs. Me and Paulie followed him taking steps of guilt.

 

Tommy opened the bags in front of his desk, and poured all the money out. Thick rolls of green $100 bills came pouring out of the bag. “Yes. The Cubans really know how to make me happy,” Tommy said. Then two small little bags came out of the bigger bag. Tommy, me and Paulie looked confused for a second. Tommy opened the small bag up and white stuff that looked like grounded sugar came pouring out of it. My eyes lit up, because I knew it was Cocaine. “What the hell?” Tommy whispered to himself. A loud ring came vibrating through the house. Somebody had ringed the doorbell.

 

“Prezo, get the door!” Tommy screamed. One of Tommy’s men, Prezo started walking to the door. Tommy took his hand and grabbed the cocaine. He sniffed it, to see if it had a scent. A thought was rushing through my brain saying “Tommy don’t do it!” However I didn’t say anything. Tommy lifted his nose away from the cocaine and he screamed “Prezo don’t open the door!” It was too late, because Prezo had opened the door. A Colombian looking men with a shark tooth necklace was at the door, holding a blanket over his hand. “We have a delivery for Mr. Vercetti,” the man said. He removed the blanket, and an AK-47 was in his hand. He then pulled the trigger and shot Prezo several times, spewing bullets through his chest and squirting blood onto the white-tinted floor. Me, Tommy and Paulie panicked.

 

A dozen men then entered the doorway. Tommy rushed to the door, and closed it quickly as the men kept shooting the door. “Sh*t! F*cking sh*t!” Tommy screamed. “Who the hell are these guys!” I screamed. “The Cubans must’ve stole the Colombian’s cocaine, and now they think we stole it!” Tommy screamed. Tommy walked over to the closet and opened it. In there was a load of guns with ammo. Tommy grabbed an M16 out of the closet and loaded it. “Come on you lazy f*cks, get a gun!” Tommy screamed. Me and Paulie grabbed M16’s and loaded them up. Tommy grabbed three grenades from his closet, and gave two to me and Paulie. He then pushed his body beside the main door. “Alright, here’s what we’re gonna do! I’ll open the door and throw. After I throw one, you two throw yours, and you storm out and shoot them. Don’t worry, most of them will be dead by the time the grenades explode!” Tommy screamed. We waited a couple of more seconds. Tommy then quickly pulled the knob and opened the door. He pulled the pin out of the grenade with his mouth and threw it at the bottom of the stairs. A huge explosion occurred, knocking down the pillars at the bottom of the stairs. Paulie and me threw ours out the door as well. Another large explosion occurred, damaging the stairs and turning the floor into black ash. “Charge!” Tommy screamed.

 

We ran out of the room with our M16’s screaming like Native Americans. Three men were dead already while two more were getting up from the explosion. Paulie shot both of them, knocking them down to the floor, while squirting blood started to leak, mixing in with the black ash from the explosion. Me, Tommy and Paulie hugged the top floor fence, crouching down. I got out of cover and shot a Colombian charging up the stairs. He fell down onto his head, and started rolling as a line of blood leaked down the stairs. Two more men came from the side, charging up the stairs. One pillar at the bottom of the stairs broke from the top floor and fell, hitting one of the Colombians heads and putting him to death. The other Colombian charging up the stairs started to shoot against the upstairs fencing and a bullet hit Paulie in the shoulder and knocked him down to the ground. “Paulie! You f*cking son of a bitch Colombian!” Tommy screamed as he got out of cover and shot the Colombian on the stairs with a full clip. Every inch of the Colombian’s body was covered in bullet holes. He fell down the stairs, rolling to the bottom like a rag doll. Then four Colombians came out of the sides on the top floor. These were the last of them. Tommy shot the two coming from the right. The bullets hit their bodies and spat out a painting of blood onto the wall. Paulie was injured so he couldn’t move. I took out my M16 and shot one of them, making him fall down to the floor. Then my clip was empty, and one was still alive. He continued charging, while my clip was empty and Tommy was reloading his. I didn’t know what to do. Then all of a sudden without a doubt, a bullet came from no where and shot him in the head. It jerked his head, and knocked it against the wall, cracking his skull open. The blood went onto the wall, and the man fell down. The other man I shot wasn’t completely dead and he tried to get up. Tommy’s clip was reloaded and he shot him in the stomach, making him fall to his death.

 

“Who shot that guy?” Tommy asked me. “Hey Tom!” Ken came up the stairs with a sniper in one hand. Tommy got out of cover and aimed at him, afraid that it was a Colombian. He then came to relief. “Jesus, Ken it’s only you. Wait? You shot the guy?” Tommy said in confusion. “Yeah. Remember? You told me to get a sniper from you from Cassidy, and I heard gunshots from the outside as I entered the house. So I took a shot, saving your life I guess. Is there a problem?” Ken said. “No, it’s just that I didn’t know you could kill somebody. I mean, you’re a lawyer!” Tommy said in shock. “A badass lawyer now,” Ken said humorously. “Sh*t. I can’t believe what happened. What a night this was,” Tommy said pressing his hands over his face. “You’ll get it fixed Tom. Don’t worry,” Ken said. “Ken, call up ambulance and get help for Paulie. He was shot in the shoulder,” Tommy said. Ken went into the office and got an ambulance for Paulie. He then walked out of the office and picked Paulie up, and helped him down the stairs. It would be foolish for the police to come into a house with such destruction. “Um, Claude. Listen I gotta fix up this house, so I won’t be needing any work from you. In the meantime, find some other work and have fun in Vice City,” Tommy said as he put his hand on my shoulder. I shook my head and walked down the stairs, leaving behind the mess that we all caused.

 

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I understand but if you want people to read the story, you should give them some time to read it. I realize the chapters are short but most people tend to get discouraged from reading if they fall behind by five chapters in two days, regardless of the quality. Usually I've found that leaving at least two or three days between chapters is good, and if it's a long story, combine chapters as you see fit. It will increase chapter length and decrease chapter amounts, which most people usually prefer around here. icon14.gif

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Ok, i understand. I'll follow your advice. I always thought that people wouldn't read it if the chapters were way too long. I'll see what i can do about it. Also i have a question. I think my story may contain 6 parts to it. Is it ok if i make a new topic for Part 4 or 5 when it comes out? Even though i don't want to release too much info, i will say that it is a setting shift, and i don't want this topic to be too long.

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PIZZAHUTMAN24

i really like this story since all you can tell from claude in the gta games is that he a gangster and he doesn't talk. icon14.gif

Edited by PIZZAHUTMAN24
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Yeah, this story explains how he became silent, and what his past was like when he could talk. The point of him not talking isn't exciting, but the point of how he ended up where he was in GTA3 is explained. Also throughout the story you will notice how it blends in with other GTA's. You may have seen something in GTA and you didn't know how it happened, but i try to explain how it happened through Claude in this story.

 

One of these events will happen in the next Part (or the next two parts depending on how long it is)

Edited by Carbine23
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ChocolatePie

I'm still liking it.

Checking everyday icon14.gif

 

Keep the good stuff up dude!

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