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Born to Raise Hell


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Spoiler

   T-Bone:  You have a tire wrench in there?

   Bear:  Yeah. Here…

 

My buddy Bear hands me the wrench, put just as I start working on the damn car, a bright orange Cheetah shows up right at our doorsteps, the 1980s one, with the hidden headlamps and shit. The douchebag that’s driving it? Jeremy Grey, son of Lucas Darren Grey – a rich businessman that started making moves all over the place, just between me and you, he’s just as a bigger piece of shit than his son over here. The old man is close to his death, so his son shows up everywhere, bragging about how he’s gonna make “his daddy proud”. Jeremy gets out the car, approaches us, taking his aviators off and placing them inside his breastpocket, smiling as if we were his best friends or something.

 

   Jeremy:  What’s up boys? Still working on your cars, huh?

   Bear:  The fuck do you want now, Jeremy? We fixed your fucking car yesterday.

   Jeremy:  Oh no-no. I don’t need anything from you. I was just checking on my inferiors, you know?

I try to ignore the guy and keep working on my car. I fail, obviously, and I say towards him.

   Bear:  So do you want anything or not? I can’t fucking work with you around.

   Jeremy:  Watch your tone, tough guy. When I fucking buy this whole county I’ll turn your garage to bits.

   T-Bone:  And who’s gonna give you money now, daddy’s boy?

   Bear:  Yeah, your old man’s gonna die of a heart attack before he even grabs the stash.

 

Bear and I both laugh our asses off, but the rich fuck doesn’t seem to taste it. Jeremy reaches into his waist, pulling out his Beretta, pushing himself into my buddy, aiming it towards his leg. Bear’s one tough son of a bitch, so Jeremy’s threat doesn’t mean much to him. Plus, we both know the boy is too much of a pussy to do shit. I still reach for the pipe wrench next to me. But just as I was about to attack, Jeremy almost pulls the trigger on Bear. Luckily for his leg, I was quick.

 

I hit the guy in the head, shaking up his brains real good. The guy was knocked out, so I could’ve backed up easily, but the boy stepped over the line this time, so it was time for me to go over it aswell. I start swinging at his torso, his arms, his legs, I kick him in the ribs, and with one final blow to the leg, I completely break his kneebone, you could even see it poking out and shit. The boy had no chance, you pull a gun out on my friends, you best expect this is the shit that’s gonna come to you. Poor Bear was watching to whole scene.

 

   Bear:  Is he fucking dead?

   T-Bone:  Yeah…Shit, man. What are we gonna do now?

   Bear:  Fuck-fuck. Alright, I know…Throw him in the Cheetah.

 

We both carry the corpse to the orange car, throwing him in the trunk. We drive Jeremy off to a cliff up-north, large trees surrounding us, water right below, perfect place to dump a body. The what was once Jeremy Grey is now inside the trunk of a 1980s bright orange supercar, V12 Engine, Top Speed 152 mph, all underneath the Pacific Ocean. I turn to Bear.

 

   T-Bone:  You think his old man is gonna find out?

   Bear:  He’s almost fucking dead, we don’t have to worry about him.

   T-Bone:  What about the police?

   Bear:  Yeah. That might be a fucking problem, we’ll see…Call War, we need a ride out of here.


From that day on, the San Fierro raised prick that’s been telling you this story was called T-Bone. Dumb name, I know, but I was stuck with it. And yeah, you read that right…I was born and raised in San Fierro. Like any other poor fuck out there I had a mom and a dad, of course. My old man used to run this garage Downtown, and all I did was build my own “sculptures” with the scrap metal I found here and there. Yeah, my life wasn’t so interesting, but that was until mom got her second kid, a girl this time.

When I first held that kid in my arms I felt a chill down my spine. I kept saying “My little sister” in my head…Probably the only time I felt love for someone. Carrie grew up, I grew up, our bond started falling apart though. Poor kid started being weird at times, and me being the Big Brother, I had to find out what was happening to her.

Looking through her files and shit I start seeing codes and cyphers and shit, typical hacker stuff. By god when she found out I was snooping around she was as red as a fucking tomato, but a quick idea came to my mind. Carrie was very passionate about playing the electric guitar I had, guess it’s cause we’re from the same tree.

 

   T-Bone:  Look-look…I’ll teach you shit on my guitar if you teach me shit on your Computer.

   Carrie:  And how do I know you won’t rat me out?

   T-Bone:  Do I look like the type? Come on…I know you really want to learn how to play it.

Carrie let’s out a sigh.

   Carrie:  Fine. But we’re both in deep trouble if you do something stupid.

   T-Bone:  I won’t. You know me…Now come on. I’ll show you the basics.

 

I didn't take anything from her, when I saw that sweet smile of hers, my heart warmed, so I just let her be.


The dude that helped me drop Jeremy is Clyde “Bear” Kenney, one fat, though piece of shit. Ever since I rolled down in the county, Bear’s been my number one drinking buddy. We used to listen to Vet’s stories and laugh at them.

I’ll start mentioning an “Angus” in here. That’s Angus Sampson, he’s the one calling the shots inside the club, to us he’s the President, to you he’s just and old grumpy fuck with a bunch of other grumpy fucks doing shit together.

I met all these people when I was riding around with this nomad group “Lost Souls”. They liked me, so after one month I managed to become the club’s member. Most of the original members we’re all ex-military, so they we’re ruthless with newcomers, I wasn’t an exception, but I proved myself. “Souls Forever, Forever Souls. You take a brother down, expect to get the whole clique searching for you”…That statement couldn’t have been more true.


Ten days passed after the accident, and cops finally show up at our clubhouse, asking questions. We briefed Angus a day after we killed Jeremy, so he knew exactly what he had to do. For about thirty minutes, he talked to the piggies and they all just left. The president comes back to us with his usual grumpy look.

 

   Bear:  So? The fuck did they say?

   Angus:  They don’t suspect shit, but the old man might be a problem.

I turn to Clyde.

   T-Bone:  See, I fucking told you he’s gonna find out.

   Bear:  He’s gonna fucking die in a couple of days, dude, chill out.

   Angus:  You two pieces of shit should shut the fuck up and calm down. I have Crow talking to him already. After he comes, then and it’s all your fucking problem.

   T-Bone:  How do you know he’s coming back?

   Angus:  He’s in a goddamn hospital, what’s this old fuck gonna do to him?

   T-Bone:  Yeah, you’re right. Hey, prospect! Give me another fucking beer.

 

Pyke’s a dumb fuck, but he shows a lot of fucking potential. If he keeps it that way, I might aswell just sponsor him. We keep on to our drinks, until Crow shows up. The secretary’s the only black one in the group, that’s why we call him Crow, and he doesn’t mind it, he even likes it. He’s lucky he served in army with Angus, otherwise he’d mean nothing to us right now.

 

   Crow:  Yeah, the old guy said he doesn’t care if you’re the ones who killed his son or not…

   Bear:  What? So we’re go--

   Crow:  You didn’t let me finish. I said he doesn’t care if you’re the ones who killed his son only if you do something for him.

   T-Bone:  And what does he wants us to do? Massage his legs or something?

   Crow:  No. He wants you to go to Vice City, and snatch him a couple of biker girls.

   Bear:  Vice City? Biker girls? What kinda fucking request is that?

   Angus:  I say we shouldn’t ask questions about it, Bone. Come on, we’re going to Vice City. We’re gonna hold down a church later and I’ll tell you the plans. Until then, you two stay away from any fucking problem.

 

Angus told us about a couple of Vice City bikers that called themselves “Hell’s Vultures”. The club’s had a couple of girls that were interesting to Lucas, creepy old fuck. The club decided that me, Clyde and some other guys are going to a show in Florida, hosted by these guys. Sounded like a perfect plan to us, so we pack our shit up the next day and head down to Vice City.

 


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Spoiler

I never been to Vice City before, but it’s exactly what I tought it’s gonna be…beaches and bitches. I might like it here afterall. From what Crow told us, the show was supposed to be held in Downtown, close to their clubhouse, so of course that’s where we are headed.

 

   T-Bone: So we head in and grab the girls, right?

   War: Yup. Vet talked to his contact and he’s gonna let us use his van.

   Bear: You think these pieces of shit are good for anything?

   War: The Vultures? Bunch of pussies. We’re closing up now, it’s too our right.

 

Numbers weren’t that big, I think they were about 14 or 15, but our main concern was the girls, and after seeing them, Lucas didn’t seem that creepy afterall. Me, Clyde and War go straight to the girls, while the other’s try to distract everyone’s attention. From what I know, a pretty fucked up brawl started back there, and we lost 4 guys, poor fucks.

Vet’s guy agreed to get them to back San Andreas in no time, so as soon as we arrived, the girls arrived too, and so did bad news. As soon as we arrived, Duster comes in.

 

   Duster:  Dudes…Bad news, Lucas died.

   T-Bone: What?!

   War: You mean all the shit was for nothing? We lost 4 brothers out there.

   Duster:  Calm down-calm down. I talked to Angus, and he’s said we’re keeping the girls for ourselves.

   Bear:  What do you mean for ourselves?

   Duster:  Come on, we need money brother. How are we gonna get it? Strip clubs.

The dude was right. If we had the girls we might aswell fucking use them for something. They say the treasurer always has an eye for money, and they’re right. In no time, the girls we’re working for us, and making us good money too.


But as money comes in, so does greed, and some people need to get taught a lesson once they get too greedy, that’s the beauty in extortion. The strip club’s owner, some Italian guy named VittoTito...some shit like that, is a victim of greed. Angus and I come in a month after the girls were hired, trying to see whatever is going down.

 

   Vitto:  Angus, what’s going on, buddy? Man I can’t thank you enough for these girls, they’re amazing. I’m getting so much money out of them.

   Angus:  Yeah, I was about to talk about that. You do remember our talk, right?

   Vitto:  Sure, Ang. What about it?

   Angus:  It’s been one month since we got you these girls and I haven’t seen a cent out of it. You said it yourself, 65% or we take over the place and you go 6 feet down.

   Vitto:  Uhm…Yeah dude, I’ll give it to you once I get more money, time means money, right?

   Angus:  No, Vitto…I want my money now, alright?

   Vitto:  I said I’ll--

And right before he could even finish, Angus smacks his head against the table in front of him, sending me a quick look. That could only mean one thing. Remember the old pipe wrench I used to kill that rich fuck with? Well turns out it was really useful here too, only this time there was no corpse afterwards, only a broken hand and a couple of broken feelings aswell, they heal up though…the hand, I mean.

   Vitto:  Argh! Okay-okay. It’s in that safe overthere, man. Please...leave me alone, man. Take whatever you want.

   Angus:  That’s the spirit, buddy. Remember this is for 4 dead bikers you’re paying here.

Angus pats the Italian’s shoulder before leaving, like any “friend” should. We left the building with about 105k, felt like I was robbing the place. But that’s the beauty in extortion.


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Spoiler

Home is still the best place to go to every now and then, even if nowadays you’re the biggest the asshole the world has ever seen. There’s this damn death metal band Clyde and Ken are interested about on show over there, so we decided to just say "fuck everything"  and head down to San Fierro.

 

Everything is still the same, my old man is still kicking, my mom is still kicking and the garage is still alive. But someone was missing from the whole scene, my sis. Mom said she left town and went to Los Santos. Reason? Unknown, but I have my suspicions. That’s not the point though.

 

We ride around different places and I tell them shitty stories from my Fierro days. Good times, bad times, it doesn’t matter to us anymore. It was close to midnight and the damn concert was about to start, so we head over there, do our stuff and get ready to punk out. I don’t know what bullshit came to our mind, but Bear and I started walking around the place. It was a good idea though, we saw this chick getting mobbed on by some douchebags. We approach them.

 

   T-Bone:  Aye! The fuck are you doing there, you punk?

   Brit 1:  Fuck off, inbred twat. Go bother somebody else, mate.

   Brit 2:  Yeah, back off, leather wearing fuck.

   Bear:  So that’s how you fucking want it, huh? Damn british fucks…

 

Both Bear and I head over to the big-mouthed pricks and beat the crap out of them. I hit one of them in the jaw with a jab, and Bear already got the other one on the ground, kicking him in the stomach. They run away pissing their pants, and we realise the chick was still there, looking at us. We help her out and spend the rest of the concert with her around us.

 

I never hang around normal people, they’re all the same, have the same story, the same looks, everything is just the same for all of them. Each and everyone of my friends has something special about them, like the chick we helped at the concert, Kerry. Chick’s some ex-airforce troop, and she doesn’t live that far away from our clubhouse, so after we got back home, she started to hang around with us more. I'm surprised she couldn't take care of herself over there, but hey, we all have our weakness, huh?


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Spoiler

Everybody dies, that’s no secret, but some manage to ride their way right up death’s ass and completely cheat it. Same thing happened to Vet after 96 years, and he wasn’t just a brother, he was the father we never wanted.

 

Vet was the oldest one of our group, of course, one of the six original members, actually. He knows and remembers everything that happened in the club back in the 70s. He retired back in ‘86 or ’87 from what I was told, and since then he’s just been helping around with selling guns, meth and pretty much everything. Our Sgt-At-Arms, War was the one cooking the meth, and Vet was the one selling it.

 

The burial went smooth enough, the Chaplain did his job, everyone and their mother showed up. We never understood how Vet got so popular, but we didn’t mind it. After the burial, a bunch of funny looking rednecks approach us.

 

   Redneck 1:  God rest his soul.

   Angus:  Yup, guy lived and seen long enough.

   Redneck 1:  Yeah-yeah. But we have a question for y’all…Who’s gonna supply us now?

   Angus:  Supply? The fuck are you talking about?

   Redneck 1:  Charlie, The dead fella. Yeah-yeah…He’s been supplyin us with moonshine and crystal ever since this whole leather club started. We need our product, partner.

   Angus:  Right-right…So you expect us to give you the shit now? Alright, neither of us had any idea of this deal going on.

   Redneck 2:  Your partner over there says otherwise. He’s the one cookin it up.

The redneck points towards War, we all turn around towards him.

   War:  He’s bullshitting. I don’t even know who he is. All I do is drink and smack the shit out of pieces of shits who don’t behave. Plus how the hell would I know how to make meth.

   Angus:  Yeah…You’re right. Angus turns towards the other group. You bunch should better fuck off from my brother’s burial before you have some of your own.

   Redneck 3:  Fuck you, leather wearing punks. We’ll see each other again.

   Angus:  Yeah-yeah. Go back to fucking your sisters or something…Fucking pricks. Is this who you guys sell your shit too.

We all burst out laughing

   War:  Not anymore, Ang…Not anymore.

 

Problem with being so popular is that along with friends, you also make a couple of enemies. The redneck group from before decided to show up at our doorstep a couple of days later, took us off guard and shot Bear down. To others, that might not mean much, but to us, that means a war is about to go off. With my best friend gone, we had nothing else to do but attack back.

 

Vet had a big stash of weapons we promised not to touch until something big goes off, and it was about time. These rednecks used to run their operation in Grapeseed, that’s where we rolled down, armed to the teeth. Didn’t take long before the cops showed up, but by then we were already done. The farm was trashed, and the rednecks were gone.


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Spoiler

Two deaths in one day, that’s not a good sign for the Lost Souls. And my fear is about to become reality. Just like the day after I killed Jeremy, cops show up at our clubhouse, except this time they’re more direct with us. They put all of us on the ground, and started searching around. I don’t know what they’re looking for, but I know who they’re looking for…Angus.

   T-Bone:  I don’t know where he is. Now come on, leave us alone.

   Sherrif :  Mr. Angus Sampson is wanted for extortion and rape, along with four other suspects. You better give us an answer before we detain all of you.

   T-Bone:  I told you, we don’t know where he is…And, what’s all of his “rape” and “extortion” shit you’re talking about? What are we, a mob?

   Sherrif:  You think you’re funny kid? Boys, put on the cuf—

Angus and Crow both suddenly walk in, laughing. Their faces drop at the sight of our visitors, who put them both on the ground in a matter of seconds, cuffing them up. Just before you know, the President, the secretary and three other guys are gone.

 

We were all confused, everything seems to have fallen apart on us. Our only answer to all our question was “Somebody is ratting us out”…but who? Since Angus was in prison now, Cross becomes the one calling the shots. His first order…find out who’s the one giving us away. War and I started shaking up all the prospects for information, the Enforcers took care of the full-patched members, but we all didn’t find shit. It was either somebody from outside the club, or there was no rat at all, and from what I’ve learned here…there’s always a rat out there.

 

Ever since we met her, Kerry’s been always helping us out with different shit that was going on outside the club, she practically became our own little informer. I ride down towards her trailer park and approach her.

 

   T-Bone:  You found anything?

   Kerry  Kinda, all I hear around is just a bunch of rumours about how Angus and the boys chained some chick in a basement and fucked her.

   T-Bone:  Some chick? You know which chick?

   Kerry  Hmm, I think she was working at that stripclub a couple of blocks away from here. Not sure though.

   T-Bone:  Shit. Alright, thanks Ker. I owe you one…

   Kerry :  Stop calling me Ker, T.


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Spoiler

I told Cross about what I found out and he instantly figured something out. Next day we find ourselves visiting Angus and the boys.

 

Cross:  So…How’s the pen?

Angus:  Crow’s struggling, bunch of fucking Nazis in here. You two got news for me?

T-Bone:  Yeah. The Italian might be ratting us out.

Angus slams his fist on the table.

Angus:  Fucking knew it…

Cross:  Look, Ang. We’re gonna take care of it. We’ll shake the piece of shit up real good, if we find anything…he’s dead.

Angus:  Yeah, listen to me. I heard the piece of shit got himself a nice place. Burn it to the ground. Ask the prospect for directions. Get yourselves some nice cocktails and throw it at the damn house.

Cross:  Got it. Let’s go, Bone. We have ourselves something big on our hands.

 

Later that day, Pyke told us everything about the place Vitto owns. A nice, chill cabin, far away from us. That place screams “I ratted out on a club”. I never burned down a place before, so I start getting paranoid. I tell the prospect to watch the place and give us a call when everyone is gone. About thirty minutes in after we packed us some Molotov cocktails, Pyke calls us.

 

Pyke:  Alright, it’s show time, T-Bone. You can go ahead and burn it down.

T-Bone:  Nice work, Pyke. We’re on our way. Hey, after this is done…I’m thinking of mentioning your name at the next church. How does that sound?

Pyke:  Yeah, man. Thanks! I won’t let you down.

 

Me, War, Cross and two other brothers all ride down towards Vitto’s cabin. Once we saw Pyke, we knew that we’re at the right place. We ready our Molotovs, and we all throw them at the cabin. In a couple of seconds, whole place is covered in flames. We shout and laugh loudly, completely filled with adrenaline. Pyke joins us.

 

War:  Yeah, that’ll show ya’, you Italian prick.

Pyke:  Hope you and your family rots in hell.

T-Bone:  Fuck yeah…Wait, what? What do you mean “rot in hell”.

Pyke:  What? I thought you said you wanted all of them in, dude.

T-Bone:  WHAT?! Oh no-no-no…

I look over to the house, only to hear the screams and shouts of Vitto, his wife and both his kids. I turn over to Pyke.

T-Bone:  What have you fucking done, you dumb fuck!

Pyke:  Dude, you said--

T-Bone:  I said to wait for all of them to FUCKING LEAVE, are you deaf? How dumb can you fucking be?

Pyke:  I’m sorry.

T-Bone:  Sorry? Oh, you'll be sorry you sack of shi--

I grab the prospect’s neck, trying to strangle him. Cross pushes both of us aside.

Cross:  Calm the fuck down, both of you. Prospect, you’re one dumb fuck, you know that? T-Bone told you to wait for them to leave and you get all of them inside.

Sure I might have killed people, sure I might have hurt people, sure I might have left some broken hearts here and there. But I run by one code…No damn kids.

Cross:  The job’s done. We got the rat, but not how we wanted. Let’s go back.

T-Bone:  I’m not going anywhere, Cross. I’m out…

 

I take off my vest and throw it to the ground. And like that I leave the Lost Souls, and next thing you know, I’m on my way to Los Santos. Why Los Santos? Cause it was the closest, so fuck you. Plus I have some buddies in there that can set me up with a place to live in and one to work at, oh and my sis too.


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THE END?

 

Edited by SolenopsisΔ
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Spoiler

"It’s been too damn long, sis."

 

Gave up on the biker life for good, sold my bike and got “The Sergeant” out his hiding. What’s that? It’s an old Dukes me and a buddy of mine dug up from a scrapyard. The thing was still running so we took it to the garage and fixed it, kinda like in “Dukes of Hazzard”. That’s how I got out of San Fierro and moved to the county in the first place. After I got my hog though I kinda just forgot about the Sergeant until now, and it’s still loyal to me too.

 

Moving to LS is a big fucking step for everyone, you gotta find a place to live in, to work at, all that bullshit. Ken was the only one I kept in contact with after I left The Souls, so I decide to give him a call and ask about stuff.

 

T-Bone:  You still kicking, Ken?

Ken:  Hey, what’s up, T-Bone dude? What can I help you with?

T-Bone:  Listen, man. I’m moving to LS and—

Ken:  Moving to Los Santos? Whoa, dude, that’s a big step.

T-Bone:  Yeah, problem is I don’t have a place to live in.

Ken:  Ooh, I can help you with that, brother. I know the right place for ya. Some chick was selling her house around my neighbourhood, maybe I can talk to her, you know?

T-Bone:  Sounds good man. Give her my number and shit, yeah. Thanks, brother.

Ken:  No problem, man. See ya later, T-Bone dude.

 

Ken’s probably the last “classic” hippie walking around, that’s why I kept in contact with him after all that bullshit, and by classic I mean like…90’s classic. He even drives a RV with the whole “peace and love” thing painted all over it. He’s a chill son of a bitch, mainly from all the weed he smokes. Dude got me into it too. I remember that I once took a bite out of one of his weed brownies at a party and woke up the next day with a fucking bride next to me…crazy shit.

 

I had to sleep in a motel room for a couple of days until the chick Ken set me up with called me. And guess who I got to see after all these years…Carrie motherfucking Newell herself.

 

T-Bone:  It’s been too damn long, sis.

Carrie:  Holy shit! Tobias?

T-Bone:  You know me! You’re the one selling the house, huh?

Carrie:  Yup. I’m moving to another place so…yeah.

T-Bone:  Alright. I’ll fucking buy it then.

Carrie:  You know what? I’m giving you this one for free. I do owe you something afterall.

T-Bone:  Nah, fuck it. I know what you can do for me. You still have those computer skills of yours, right?

Carrie:  And even better than before...

 

Carrie changed a lot, but she was still my little sister after all. I don’t know what she’s doing in Los Santos, but knowing her I shouldn’t ask that or something bad is gonna happen to me. But with me settled up in LS, all that remains is to find myself a place to work at and then we’re done

 

This city is pure fucking insanity, perfect place for a freak like me, huh? Hanging out with Ken proved very useful to me. Dude managed to get me a place to live in and meet my damn sister again, without even trying to. I owe him a lot.

 


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Spoiler

"Electric eye"

 

I kinda forgot about my sister, so seeing her again warmed my heart again. The only chick I’ll ever love…and it’s not even like that. I can’t explain the damn feeling I get everytime I see her, but all I can tell you it’s that it’s the best feeling I’ll ever get in my life.

 

Anyways, I’m at my new house, kicking back, drinking beer, watching TV…the usual, when suddenly my doorbells rings. At first, I thought it’s some prick playing a prank or something, since I get them sometimes. Nope, I was wrong, it was my sister again.

 

T-Bone:  Hey, what’s up, sis?

Carrie:  Hey, Toby. Remember a few years back when you dug up in my PC and found some weird shit.

T-Bone:  Yeah…Then I taught you to play guitar and you said you’d teach me how you do you wizardy thing bu—

Carrie:  But you said “fuck it” and didn’t want it.

T-Bone:  Yup. Of course I fuckin remember, why?

Carrie:  Well why don’t you come to my new place and…you know. Plus I got some stuff to tell you.

 

I didn’t want to go, I was to fuckin lazy…But fuck it, I wouldn’t refuse my little sister either. She hops on her bike, one of those customed out café racers, we really are brother and sister afterall, she had the same fuckin color scheme as my bike did back then, black with red stripes. Anyhow, I’m driving my Sarge to her place in Vinewood, a little hackerspace she and her friends used for their crew. The setup over there was fuckin insane: a whole backroom filled with servers and shit, lockers everywhere, her PC was stacked with apps she probably coded herself.

 

T-Bone:  Holy shit, Carrie! How did you manage to get all of this stuff around?

Carrie:  I think you know by now, Toby.

T-Bone:  Fucking hell…Hey, call me T-Bone, sis. I’m not used to people calling me Tobias, or Toby rather.

Carrie:  Sure…Whatever you say, big brother.

T-Bone:  Yeah, an—Wait is that my fucking guitar over there?

 

I point at an electric guitar laying on one of those lockers. I knew it was mine because I carved a skull on it with a knife once, yeah...I was that kid.

 

Carrie:  Uhm, yup, you left it back home when you left so I just took it…you know?

T-Bone:  What a little devil you are, huh? So you gonna show me how to do this shit?

Carrie:  Yeah, but first…You ever heard of Natasha Khrushcheva?

T-Bone:  Natasha Kursh—What? What’s that, one of your friends?

Carrie:  She’s just some rich Russian lady that I work with.

T-Bone:  You work for someone? So you’re like a hacker-for-hire or someshit?

Carrie:  Nah-nah…I mean that I’m in her crew and help her around. I used to have my own but…well…stuff happened and it all went to shit.

T-Bone:  Uh-huh…So what do you want me to do?

Carrie:  I don’t know, maybe talk to her or something, since you’re looking for work and all.

T-Bone:  True…Did I tell you that or did you used your--?

Carrie:  I used my little wizardy thing. Speaking of that, “let’s show you the basics”.

T-Bone:  You still remember that? Damn, you amaze me, sis.

 

I might not be as good as Carrie, but we both learn very fucking quick so…I guess I know computer magic now. Might be useful one day…who knows.

 


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Spoiler

Haven’t used the tricks Carrie taught me, and I have a feeling I won’t anytime soon. But life can be full of fucking surprises, good or bad. Same thing happened when I was in my house doing “the usual”. There’s this story on the news about some kid getting slaughtered and getting thrown away right in the middle of the street.

 

T-Bone:  Damn, poor fuck.

Reporter:  This is just in, we have received the vicitm’s identification from the police. Victim’s name is Carrie Maria Newell, aged 25, and according to a post on Facebrowser, Carrie was affiliated with a hacker group called “Ant Crew”, previously known as “Solenopsis Delta”. Suspect is still on the loose, but the police are trying their best to find –

 

I threw my remote right at the TV. The kid I helped my mom take care of, the kid I taught how to play guitar, the only person that would ever warm my fucking heart is now dead…gone forever. I had to find out who did it…I wish I was there when it happened, so I can strangle the fucking killer. Ken calls me.

 

Ken:  Yo, T-Bone dude. I’m sorry, man.

T-Bone:  Don’t be…Fucking bullshit.

Ken:  It’s okay, brother. I’m still here for you, dude.

T-Bone:  Yeah…You still got that fucking whiskey bottle? I’m coming over…

Ken:  Sure, dude. You know I’m not a drinker anyways.

 

When I was a kid I taught drinking was stupid, then I grew older, and I realized that drinking is the only thing you have when everything else is just shit. Drinking at day, drinking at night, that’s my life for ya.

 

But I knew the cops wouldn’t do shit, I felt it in my spine. Carrie told me about some Russian chick she worked for…or with, rather. She handed me her number and everything, so I might aswell just ring it up.

 

T-Bone:  Uh…Is this Natasha?

Natasha:  Yup. Who’s asking?

T-Bone:  Name’s T-Bo—Ugh, Tobias Newell. I’m Carrie’s brother…

Natasha:  Oh, sorry for your loss. I was devastated when I heard about it.

T-Bone:  Yeah...It's okay.

Natasha:  Uh, why don’t you come to my place, I’ll give you the address and we can like…talk about stuff, you know?

 

Next thing you fucking know, a filthy, drunk son of a bitch is sitting infront of this rich Russian lady, and when I say rich, I mean crazy fucking rich. I of course try to hide the fact that Carrie’s death completely destroyed me, who the fuck would want to see this 35 year old fuck cry about his little sister dying…I know that I’m crying about it now, but at least you can’t see it. I started drinking a whole lot though, so that’s something you can clearly notice. I think I once had like five 6-packs laying at home, three with whiskey, two with rum, one with whiskey.

 

But, all bad things aside, I moved my ass to Carrie’s place, so hey, that’s a plus, right? Finally put my skills to use...how? Well I have a cousin living in Paleto, where everything went down. Hey, if the police are doing shit about it, I might aswell be the first one to find the fuck, now that I have the resources to do it. Anyways, back to my cousin, Peggy Sue DeWitt, the last time I remember seeing her was when she almost strangled me to death for stealing her bat, and that was way fucking back, I was probably like 15 or 16 at the time. I managed to find her address and yup...she's still alive and well. Hey, maybe I won't get strangled this time. I park my Sarge in front of her house.

 

T-Bone:  Peggy! You home!

Peggy:  You don't have to fuckin' shout, god da--Toby? The fuck are you doing here?

T-Bone:  Listen, you know anything about Carrie?

Peggy:  You're not a cop, you sack of shit. How did you even find my house?

T-Bone:  I fucking asked a question...

Peggy:  I'm not answering shit until you give me my bat back.

T-Bone:  You still have a grudge for that?

Peggy:  Yeah, now you fuck off or I'll call the cops.

T-Bone:  Fine-fine...I'll find your fucking bat. 

Peggy:  That's more like it. Now come, don't just fucking stand there.

T-Bone:  So, do you know anything?

Peggy:  Have you looked at yourself recently, you look like freak, Toby. You know how hard is it to take care of dreadlocks?

T-Bone:  I had them for a long fucking time, Don't fucking worry about it...

 


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Spoiler

For some reason I keep hanging out with Peggy, everywhere, despite her still holding a fucking grudge against me for stealing her bat. I did give her the bat back, but there's still something off about her. She dodges everything I ask about Carrie, she's aggressive as shit, insults me everyday...I doubt she's the one who killed her, but she has to know who fucking did it. I don't want to even bother asking her about that shit, who knows what she'll do. Hell, things get fucking crazy when I'm around Peggy, like that I once walked in on her fucking, and she was talking on the phone with her mother or someshit.

 

Peggy:  Things are good mother, I jus--Tobias? What the fuck?!

T-Bone:  Whoa! Holy shit! Uh--

Peggy: start pulling her pants back up, so is her boyfriend.

T-Bone: I fuckin' forgot my--Ah, leave it! I'm just gonna...leave.

Peggy: Can't you fucking knock or something?

 

Like I fuckin said...crazy shit. She's also really fucking nuclear when you even mention the word "dyke". I learned that the hard fucking way. She was sitting on her damn porch, reading a newspaper, and she had this fucking pink hair...Peggy Sue DeWitt dyed her hair pink, isn't that some dumb shit?

 

T-Bone:  What the hell is up with your hair, Peg?

Peggy:  I dyed it pink...

T-Bone: Yeah I can see that. Thank fuck it's not rainbow or someshit like that, you would've looked like a dyke...

 

Peggy puts her newspaper down, letting you know you fucked up. Next thing that happens, she grabs her baseball bat and swings it at my leg, does it a few times too. I was next to my car, so I reach for my wrench. Her friend stops both of us...Oh and by the way, Peggy is a fucking firefighter too. Yeah...Takes my taxpayer money and smashes my leg. Guess that was Karma from Jeremy, huh?

 

But you don't hit T-Bone and expect to not get hit back. I smash her fucking house up and I smashed it good. Everything in her house...obliterated.

 

Speaking of family members, you know what really bothered me when Carrie died?...That I wasn't invited to her funeral. Luckily enough one of her friends and I fucking "re-did" the burying. Turns out I'm not the only one who wants to find out who did it, there's also this Chloe girl, who calls herself Bluejay, and went insane after Carrie died, so now she thinks Bluejay is another person and yadda yadda, not the point though.

 

We're both facepainted, I have a fucking shovel in the backseat of my car, and I'm driving this chick to the graveyard, where's she's gonna dig my little sister up and inspect her fucking corpse. Tell you what, if she wasn't looking for the killer too I'd probably beat the shit out of her right here and there. What the fuck is wrong with this city?


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Spoiler

From here on nothing really fucking happened, except for the fact that I found out who the killer was. Yup, it was fucking Peggy. She's lucky the police got her first, hope that bitch rots in prison... 

 

Anyways...I met this Paige chick and her friend, Dom, a few days back at a party. She's gave me beer so me and Ken gave her some weed, and we quickly became friends. From that point we started hanging around more...but not in that way. She bought this rat rodded Slamvan a few days ago so we decided to head to a mechanic shop and change up the color scheme. Of course, she was high as shit so I did the driving and talking. The guy running the garage looked chill enough, but Paige had this werid look on her face, don't know if it's from the weed or not.

 

Oh did I mention I have a bar? "The Bone Zone"...I was drunk as fuck when the idea popped into my head. Basically a skeleton themed metal pub, and by that I mean that me and the staff paint our faces to look like freaks. Paige helped me out at our first opening, she was the bartender. The mechanic dude came too, with his old lady, or his girlfriend, whatever the fuck you want to call it. All hell broke loose between him, his old lady and Paige. Who knows what bullshit happened to them before.

 

Skipping a few days ahead, Chloe changed her nickname, so she's not Bluejay anymore, she's Cerberus now. I don't really get this nickname thing to be honest but apparently it's something Carrie invented. At least I did something to actually get my roadname. She came to my place today, with a friend of hers, I guess.

 

T-Bone: So who's that?

Cerberus: This...This the /new/ Bluejay. She's my new...disciple

T-Bone: Right...But I mean who is she exactly?

Cerberus: You don't want to know...

Bluejay just looks at me, not saying a word.

Cerberus: She's developing quickly...Way to quickly to be exact. That might be a problem.

T-Bone: Look. I'm just some dirty old fuck who got caught up in this shit cause of his sister. I don't know what the fuck do you mean by "she's developing quickly". To me this looks like you just picked up some poor soul from the streets and brainwashed him or something like that.

Cerberus: Uh--Uhm...Alright, well. Blue, can you go outside for a little bit?

Bluejay nods and goes outside. This poor chick is basically Chloe's dog by now, probably.

Cerberus: When Fireant died I was completely broken, Bone...She was both my mentor and my friend, you'll never know what that means. Ever in your life. I want to walk on her footsteps, I want to become like her...

 

I found out that Bluejay was infact Paige a few days after, when she got killed by some punks. But anyways, after all this shit happened my life was pretty much the same every single day, and "The Bone Zone" died out too. I decided to move everything from Carrie's place somewhere up in Grapeseed, since I'm getting old and shit.

 

I also have more time to work on a little thing I came up with...my own fucking algorithm, found out that Carrie was using one made by her fellow "Fire Ant" buddies, so after I'm done everything should be completely impossible for them to decrypt. The fuck kinda name is "Solenopsis Delta" anyways?


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Spoiler

From biker to hacker, that's one hell of a transition. The algorithm should be done in a few weeks, thank fuck Carrie taught me how to do this shit, otherwise I'd probably be fucked by now.

 

I decided to pay a visit to someone...not so close to me. I'm talking about my cousin of course, "The Blaine County Butcher". If I couldn't fucking find her, at least I deserve some answers, don't I? Plus, from what I've heard, she's holed up in the Bolingbroke Penitentiary...Huh, wonder if Angus is still kicking.

 

Peg's kept away from all the other prisoners, so managing to convince one of the guards to let me visit her was a pain in the ass. I met Robert along the way, he cop who almost arrested me when they couldn't find Angus that one time, he didn't retire just yet, but he told me it's gonna be soon. He's the one who helped me get to Peggy, since she's not allowed to get visited by anyone and shit.

 

I felt like I was getting smuggled to Peg's "place"...that's how bad it is. But in the end, we're face to face again...well,she's wearing a straitjacket on and there's like three ground around her.

Peggy: I should've killed you. I should've burried you next to your sister, you bat stealing asshole!

T-Bone: Nice way to say hello to your fucking cousin, Peg. Anyways how's this place? All by yourself...alone. Hey you're almost living the same way that I am.

Peggy: Fuck you!

T-Bone: We're not in Alabama, Peg. But I'm not here for chit-chat. Why'd you do it, dude? I thought you we're good friends with her when you were kiddies.

Peggy: Because she's a criminal and she murdered people, and I ended it.

T-Bone: She didn't kill shit. The hell are you talking about? Fuckin there's nothing but mumbo jumbo in your brain.

Peggy: She was in an organisation, Tobias!

T-Bone: Yeah so? You are a serial killer. I've seen the shit they pull at that organisation of hers. They're a bunch of nobodies.

Peggy: Am I? I am a light from god..

T-Bone: You? Light from god?

I start laughing like hell. I look at one of the guards.

T-Bone: You hear the shit he's saying?

Peggy: I am here to make the world safe- No, NOT EVEN! I DO THIS FOR MYSELF!

Peggy starts to wiggle around like crazy.

Peggy: I should've killed you! I SHOULD'VE KILLED YOU! I SHOULD'VE FUCKING KILLED YOU!

She starts barking and spitting me. Not gonna lie, that shit scared me for good, even with all the damn guards around me. I try to keep my calm though, you know?

Guard: Subdue her! She's getting out of control!

T-Bone: Yeah-yeah...I get that a lot, Peggy. Have fun in here.

The guards uses a syringe and sticks it into Peggy's neck, subduing her. Her eyes roll up and she falls back on the chair. One of the dudes escort me out, I turn my head towards Peggy, then at the guard next to me.

T-Bone: Hey. Is Angus Simpson still here? Tell him I said "Hi".

Guard: He's dead.

T-Bone: Oh? Shit, rest in piece brother.

Guard: They shanked him while a fight was breaking out.

T-Bone: Damn...Well, he was old as fuck anyways.

 

I leave the prison with pretty much nothing, other than the confirmation that Peggy is infact jumbo'd out. Phew...Let's hope she doesn't fucking break out or something, if so then I'm fucked.


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Edited by SolenopsisΔ
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" Ken handed it me something yesterday, said it was from an old friend. I open up the box and see my old vest from the Lost Souls days, god damn it how many memories "

 

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Spoiler

" All these damn patches have a meaning behind them. Well...Most of them anyways"

 

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- This one was only to show to others that I was a full member of the Lost Souls and that I am pretty much free to ride with the guys, without getting forced to do shit.

 

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- The real deal, this one is given to a full, 100% member of the club, basically showing to everyone that he's the soldier, the man treated like a brother, always there for support. I got this one after one hell of a gun fight with another MC...they we're a bunch of sissies anyways.

 

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- "Do I look like I give a fuck?" and "Fuck The World". I got them along with the "Lost Soul" patch.

 

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- The Souls had a "death squad"...basically members who'd carry out the hits. Most of them were enforcers and "Lost Souls".

 

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- I got this one after those two shows I went to.

 

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- This one is a really shitty one. It meant that I participated at a brother's funeral. They're usually followed up with the "In memory of" patches...Who knows when I'm gonna end up in one of them.

 

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- I didn't participate to Crow's funeral, but I guess that they placed the patch on my vest anyways.


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- Got this one cause I killed someone for the club, it's not the same skull for everybody. Yeah, I got a skull with a tophat on my vest.

 

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- Random patch I got from Vice City. Who doesn't fucking like V-Rock, anyways?

 

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- I don't remember getting this one, but there was a note in the box too, mentioned a "spade" patch. It said that this patch is given to all the important people in the crew, dead or alive. I don't know if this is true, but I heard they carve the spade and the text into the tombstones, so that's how they give this patch to the fallen brothers. I should check the graveyard once, see if the chaplain is still kicking.

 

 

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Spoiler

" The infamous wings. I don't think you need an explanation on this, but all I can tell is that I had a huge fucking grin on my face when I saw these. "

 

Kg1fdQD.png - Had sex with a virgin

 

baHBV7j.png - Had sex with a black woman

 

yyqwth5.png- Performed oral sex on a menstruating woman

 

 

VZaBsA4.png - Drank a woman's urine.

 

1zb55Ti.png- Performed oral-anal sex on a woman

 

Edited by SolenopsisΔ
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