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The Story Of Tom Mathers - Pt. 2

Two Things Are Certain

Everything was going smooth. Going well, going perfect. And then the dominoes began to tumble, piece, by piece. Firstly, a letter. The letter telling him the news he never wanted to know. Jay Mathers was dead. He had been executed. The cousin he loved so dearly, like a brother. Dead. April 18th. 2021.

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He called one of the only people he felt as if he could confide in. Roxanne. They opened the letter together, read it together. He tried to keep a straight face upon reading it beside her. Tried to be strong. She told him that Jay would always be there. And that might have been true, but it sure as hell didn't feel like it. He wasn't even given the chance to see him in his final moments. Hear his final words. Jay wasn't a bad guy. He didn't deserve this. No one did. Not ever again. As soon as he got into whoever's apartment he was spending the night at that time, he wept. Tears streamed down his face further than they had ever ran before. The city had desensitized Tom to most things. But this, this was the first domino. The first blade to penetrate his titanium skin he had developed from his time in the city. Roxanne told him to take a break. To mourn. Asked him if Salvation was even worth it? But why would he do that, quit? Take a break? There was work to do. Something had to change. He wasn't going to sit in bed and let all his hard work for Salvation go to waste. So Tom got up. And he worked. As always, making connections, making trades. Hitting stores. Anything to help. Even if he could feel the blade sinking into him every time he stepped foot on the pier. For Jay. It was all for Jay.

Her Domino

REDACTED FOR PRIVACY
A Hostage In Blue

A single cadet sat towards the end of the pier, slowly but surely a crowd grew. The cadet was outnumbered maybe 10:1. Tom hesitated. He thought to himself. This was his chance. To finally send a message. To break through to the LSPD. Once and for all. He reached into his glovebox and putted out a .50 caliber pistol, working his way into the crowd. Tom's hand gripped the gun firmly, toggling the safety. Do it. Do it. Do it. For Jay. For what they've done. A gnawing in the back of his mind that wouldn't leave. It had to be done. Someone, had to do it. That someone would be him. He raised the pistol to the cadet and pressed it to the back of his skull, instantly barking out orders as adrenaline swept over his bloodstream. He was really doing it. This was it. After having the cop frisked of his belongings, the hostage situation went on for a good while. It ended with Tom receiving a bat to the skull and stumbling, misfiring his gun and being taken down by an undercover cop. As he hit the ground he faded in and out, trying to resist the initial treatment from the officer. He woke up on a makeshift stretcher and felt blood trailing down the back of his skull to his neck and back, his chest in overwhelming pain from gunshot wounds. An innocent cadet. Almost lost his life to Tom's hands. Purely because of the colors he was wearing. This couldn't be the path for Tom. No. When he woke up he confessed and complied with everything, Tom was going to change. He had to change. For Jay. For Roxanne. For Joseph. For Salvation.

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*Warning: This story may contain graphic details regarding the torture of another human being, discretion is advised*

Red, Dead and Redemption

    It was a cloudy day in Los Santos. Messiah had recently got fired from his taxi job for a list of different “crimes” that were found in his background check. This caused him to wake up later than usual, exercising his new found freedom in withdrawing from the standard ways of being a member of the working class. He rolled out of bed, walked up the stairs, poured himself a glass of chocolate milk and looked at his amazing view of Los Santos. He contemplated various ideas, the meaning of crime when it stacks up to the foundations of Natural Law. He thought about his exit from the DCC - the kindness of some on his exit and the cruelty of others. He pondered how much more the anger meant to him compared to the respect he was shown by the rest. His thoughts drifted, he sipped on the chocolate milk as he looked at all the highrises that graced his vision. He looked over towards the West, seen the water flow, then to the east as he saw the bars hustling. Messiah thought about all the different types of people in the city, then thought about his brother Grant, who had been failed by Los Santos to keep him safe and out of trouble. Messiah put on his suit and tie. He packed his bag with all the protection he’d need for the day. He turned on his radio and dawned the white skull mask. He then left to start his day. 

 

   Messiah headed down to the pier where most of Salvation had been. Very few of them were having a good day, and it did not help that it began raining. Spirits however, were being raised by the banter. They were chatting with each other while they fished, while Dallas and Esco were talking to some of the locals, spreading the message, and rolling some fish. That was until Esco got challenged to a race. Himself against a lady named Camille. 

   “This is going to be a free one-thousuand dollars” Esco said excitedly over the radio. 

   “Better be” responded Griz slyly.

The race began when something peculiar happened. Griz received a notification that his car was being broken into. The car alarm silently sounded as he called out to Salvation. Fishing rods were thrown to the side quicker than the flash running a 100m as Salvation stormed the shrek-coloured haired man trying to break into the car. 

   “What do you think your doing” asked Messiah

   “I’m taking my friend's car.” Responded the man calmly.

  “Who’s your friend?” Griz asked harshly as though to make it clear that Salvation believed he was lying.

  “Just a guy I met over there watching a race, he said it’s his friend’s car and it’d be funny.”

Dallas began walking over to the man he pointed at as Griz continued to question him.

  “What were you going to do with the car?” Griz asked

  “None of your business, why do you care!” The man responded in anger. 

As Salvation circled him, many people at the pier were drawn towards the situation and began yelling to kill him. These people were disregarded as the questioning continued.

   “Dallas, what his friend say” Messiah said over the radio.

    “Doesn’t know the guy.” Dallas Responded.

   “Esco where are you?” Messiah asked.

    “The girl from the race ran off, I think she has something to do with it.”

The green haired man would be pressed about this situation but due to the busy nature and angry mob at the pier, Salvation offered him to go somewhere more secluded. He was blindfolded, put into the back of Griz’s car and driven to a new location… 

     To Be Continued.

Edited by Max Myers
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The Kitchen Massacre

 

After long hours of grinding busing, mining, fishing, and even a bit of gambling we had finally done it. We finally had enough money for our very first shipment of marijuana tables. We immediately got in contact with our dealer and got a shipment of 5 tables.

 

Everything was looking for Salvation. We had just finished our very own Drug Lab and were cooking. I was appointed Head Chef and it was my honor, this is what I wanted from the beginning. I had my two best chefs with me Mack and Twisted. We made our first batch of cocaine and successfully started a drug trade. With the money we made we decided to put it all back to the lab and try to expand it. We made another shipment of tables and we were in business. 
 

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Twisted and I had just started cooking when his car was being picked by someone. Not thinking we ran downstairs in our lab coats to stop the person. Doing this brought attention to ourselves and we were being watched. We took off the coats and tried to hide for a little but we were being targeted, we decided to make a run for the lab but we were followed by a gang who saw what floor we were on. After a while, we decided to head to the pier I sent out twisted first to make sure the close was clear. I didn't hear him after 30 seconds and knew something was up.

 

TO BE CONTINUED!! 

 

Edited by DQ_Redz
Part 1
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“People change. Sometimes, those you thought you could trust with your life turn a new leaf. People who you once felt comfortable around, knowing they would help you in any situation, become some of the greatest threats.”

-Jason Campitelli

 

This is the story of Mr. B


 

It was another busy day for Jason. Being head of recruitment was a lot of work, constant text messages, phone ringing off the hook, organizing interviews one after another. Jason managed to find time for himself, heading to the bank to collect his hard earned money from the day. Another phone call. This time, instead of another unknown caller, it was a friend. Jason was happy to pick up a call from Molly, they would usually chat about Weazel articles, the constant happenings at the pier or talks about offroading trips with Los Santos Overlanding.

 

This call was different. 

 

She asked Jason for the number to reach Mr. B. 

 

He had always been a man Jason could trust, always ready to come help Salvation when they needed it. Unfortunately, Salvation’s old friend Mr. B recently got tangled up with the Russian mob, part of a merger with The Firm. News spread fast that the mob was changing him, turning him into a loose cannon, the once soft spoken and trustworthy individual was now a bloodthirsty and impulsive mobster. Jason knew how dangerous Mr. B now was, and it was out of the ordinary for Molly to make contact with that type of man. 

 

“Why do you need his number?” asked Jason. “If you need a weapon we can find you one” he added.

 

“I’m going to kill him” Molly responded.

 

Jason’s mind rushed, trying to make sense of what he had heard. Trying to understand why one of the most level headed and calm people he knew was trying to take on a very high profile man.

 

“Where are you right now?” Jason asked over the phone

 

After convincing Molly to talk to him about what was going on before it was too late, Jason called together Salvation for a meeting, to which Molly was asked to join. They met at one of their apartments, and got her side of the story.

 

Mr. B has been targeting women. Another dear friend of Jason’s, and a friend of Salvation, Veronica. Mr. B approached her earlier in the day at the pier, insulting and harassing her, threatening her life. He followed her to her place of work and did the same, to which her managers turned a blind eye. To Salvation, Mr. B has always been the kind of man willing to sit down and talk over issues. The crew managed to convince Molly to attempt a conversation with him, ensuring that she would be under constant surveillance and protection from Salvation. The time and place was decided, they would meet at the Pier that night. 

 

Following some deliberation, Messiah made the plan clear. There we’re to be men scattered across the pier to keep an eye out during the encounter. Some pretending to fish, others hidden up on the roof, armed and ready to engage if Molly’s life was in danger. Jason and Messiah we’re parked just outside the pier, ready to roll in guns blazing if the call was made. A familiar black SUV pulled in, a vehicle Jason recognized as belonging to Mr. B from his time working at LSC. Molly entered the vehicle. Tensions were high, all members of Salvation ready, finger on the trigger, and their safety off. 

 

Commands echoed over the radio from Messiah: “KEEP THE RADIO CLEAR, WAIT FOR THE CODEWORD!”. 

 

A minute passed, which felt like an eternity to the men and women on lookout. Molly exited the vehicle, it drove off, and Salvation stormed in to ensure her safety. Once everyone had collected themselves it became clear what happened. When Molly entered the vehicle, the Russians spotted some Salvation members. Mr. B claimed to have seen 40 members waiting to ambush them. He was not willing to talk, and now believed we were hunting him. Molly was safe and had Salvation watching her back from now on. 

 

Once the sun rose, Jason and Messiah we’re parked outside the bank when they spotted Mr. B walking inside. Messiah decided to try calling him. When he answered, he had no interest in hearing our side of the story, and ended the conversation by saying “Tell Molly I’ll be seeing her” before hanging up.

 

A few days passed with no further encounters, until one of our members spotted Mr. B at the pier and approached him. At this point news had spread that he had decided to part ways with the Russians. He was informed of the situation from our standpoint, and apologized to Veronica the next day. 

 

Sometimes, apologies aren’t enough, and while Molly let the situation go, Salvation never forgets

 

Jameson Bulger’s fate will soon be decided

Edited by Manablock
Correction from a person involved
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On 5/4/2021 at 8:55 PM, Jufro said:

Love the story lads though a few facts about Mr.B were wrong, I still look forward to this saga. 

I believe a few facts in the story may have been incorrect, unfortunately, we are writing based off what we were told by other people in game, sorry for any inaccuracies and thank you for the support!

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Isaac’s Journey to Salvation

 

The rain beat down on the windshield of the black suburban. As lightning crackled across the sky, Isaac felt the cold steel pressed against the side of his skull. His hand shook violently as tears rolled down his face. One breath, one beat, that is all it took. He pictured his cheerful daughter’s face for what he believed to be the last time. He closed his eyes. And squeezed the trigger.

Isaac awoke to the sound of a beeping vitals monitor.  A nurse was changing out his IV as Isaac woke. He slowly began to move his body, his muscles pushing against his ambition to move.

The nurse looked down at him and exclaimed, “Oh you’re awake! Stay put I will get the doctor right away. Try to stay as still as possible.”

A few seconds passed before the doctor came in. “Ah Mr. Martinson glad to see you are finally awake. You have been out for some time now. Around 2 and half weeks it has been. You are very fortunate to have survived something like this.”

Isaac’s throat croaked lightly, “Where is my family? Where is Charlotte?”

“Ah yes… your family. We attempted to contact them multiple times. Both your wife and your father have refused to answer our calls or respond to our repeat voicemails left for them. But nevertheless, lets focus on your health for the time being. I have some physical therapy planned out for you for whenever you awoke. With some time, we should have you back out in the streets of Chicago within the next few weeks. We also have some emotional therapy sessions we scheduled you for as well during those weeks.”

“Please! I just want to see my daughter. I want to know she is safe.”

The doctor knelt down beside Isaac’s bedside, “I understand completely Mr. Martinson. But right now, you are my patient and I want to do what is best for you. I want to make sure you can go out and see your daughter with confidence in your heart.”

Throughout the next few weeks Isaac spent his time focusing on his mental and physical wellbeing. Through all of it though, the thought of his wife and her new “man” burned at the back of Isaac’s head. She had Charlotte, she had his house, and she still had his heart. With sadness and rage in his mind, Isaac drove back to home.

It was clear night as the moon beat down across the skyline. Shadows of the towering buildings were cast onto the suburban neighborhood. Isaac sat patiently across the street waiting and watching towards the exterior of his old home. Inside he could see his wife watching TV and her daughter playing with her doll set which Isaac gifted her for Christmas.

About 20 minutes passed before the blue Mustang pulled into the driveway. A bearded man of muscular build exited the car before shambling his way to the door. He fiddled with his keys before dropping them and nearly fell over in attempting to pick them up. As he made his way inside, Isaac kept a close watch. The man stumbled over to the living room area as he grabbed Isaac’s wife by the waist and pulled her in close for a kiss. Afterwards he moved over to interact with Charlotte. Charlotte began to slowly recoil as the man approached nearer to her. She looked frightened. Isaac watched on waiting to see how the man would react. The man pushed the child over and snatched away her toys in what appeared to be a small argument. Isaac’s wife was visibly shaken but did not say anything. The man took the toys and started pulling and breaking them in front of the child.

Isaac’s anger and rage grew before he finally worked up the courage to put on the mask, grab the pistol and make his way to the front door. Bashing open the door, the residents turned around with a jolt. Isaac’s breath was heavy and loud.

A silence washed over the household before the drunk man finally spoke up, “Who the hell do you think you are barging into my house?!”

The man quickly approached Isaac from the living room. Isaac held up the pistol and without hesitation or any remark pulled the trigger.

 

To be continued…

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Oshane Davis: Joining Salvation

My name is Oshane Davis, I am a fisherman by trade. I was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. I came to Los Santos to find a purpose and a family. The first people I met in the city of Los Santos were Mr. Henry and Mr. Chad, they were very welcoming to me and I never would have known that they would end up becoming my brothers of the cloth in the salvation. I first heard of the salvation when I was at the pier fishing with Mr. Chad and this young man wearing a bucket hat and dressed in all white comes up to us and asks Mr. Chad if he would join the salvation. Mr. Chad declined at this time and the bucket hat man walked away. I asked Mr. Chad "who are these people who want you to join them?" Mr. Chad told me that they are like a family, they will do many things together and they look out for each other. This reminded me of the boy scouts so I told Mr. Chad "I like this! I want to join the boy scouts!" Mr. Chad told me to talk to Mr. Jason who I had previously met. I asked if I could join the boy scouts club with him and he gave me a special task. I met two of my other brothers, Mr. Art and Mr. Lucifer during this task. We had many troubles during this task but I pushed through working together with my new family and I made it out alive and well. I have learned many of the things since joining the salvation, these men are truly my family and without them I am just a lonely fisherman. I would give my life to protect any of my brothers or sisters in the salvation. We go by many names, the boys scouts, the backstreet boys, and the salvation but the thing that I call us, is the family. 

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Edited by MichaelHeeks
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"When an angel loses his wings."

Lucifer's Atonement.

 


They say that once you take your first life, there's no coming back. Your soul is tainted forever, and there's very little you can do to absolve that kind of sin.
Some people get used to it, they decide to make a career out of it; some even claim "
it gets easier with time" as your body count increases, and you slowly lose your humanity. I was hoping it would be the same for me, But it wasn't.

I was a computer science professor; I had just married the woman of my dreams, just got our place, and I was living a relatively ordinary life.
It was a winter night, snowing and cold as hell. I was driving home after a long day at work, excited to spend the weekend with my lady. It was our first anniversary.
As I stopped at the last red light found at the corner of our house, two cars passed me at an insane speed. The first one took my side mirror with him.
It seemed like the second guy was following the first, i had never seen such an aggressive pursuit. As I tried to recover from the shock, not even thirty seconds later, I heard a loud bang. "Was that a gunshot?" i asked myself. No, that sounded more like a crash. "Did one of those two cars crash?" i kept thinking.
It was starting to snow more and more. I gathered my courage and decided to head home quick, as the noise had come from that direction. I got increasingly worried.  As I approached my house, i saw both of the cars almost completely destroyed. One of them had hit the side of our house, with what seemed to be several gunshots on the side and windows. The other was in the middle of the road, smoking coming out of its engine. I swiftly grabbed my phone, i had to call my wife, tell her to stay inside and call the cops.
As I dialed her number, shaking, the door opened. My wife stepped outside, likely to see what had happened and possibly help with the crash.
Before i could even think of doing anything,
a man in a white suit peaked from his window and yelled at my wife: "GO BACK INSIDE, NOW!". 
Then it happened. The guy in the other car stepped out of the vehicle with some sort of odd looking silenced SMG, guns blazing and walking towards the other car. Before I could even think about what i was about to do, I hit the gas as hard as i could, ducked under the wheel, and started praying as i approached the man firing. As i got closer he turned around and sprayed my car aswell in a panic, breaking my front glass and hitting one of my shoulders, but before long i managed to ram him. One thump, and then there was silence. A few seconds passed. I got out of my car, holding my shoulder in pain.
The guy i ran over wasn't moving, he had hit his head on the concrete and was now gushing blood on the snow. I took the gun off the floor and approached my front door. I had never gotten shot before that day. I thought that was the worst pain I had ever felt. What i didn't know, is that i was about to feel a pain that was much, much worse than that. 
"Leave." mumbled the man in the white suit. He sounded hurt.  "What do you mean leave?! This is my house! I must check on my wife!" i shouted in response.
As I limped close to the front yard, i took a good look at the guy in white. He was wearing a white suit, top to bottom, with a white tie. Most of his clothes were covered in blood, from several gun wounds. "Don't..look" he mumbles to me again. 
Once I circled the car, horror struck me. 
My wife was on the ground, on the front porch. She was hit by that man's fire. One single gun wound, straight through the head. 
It was the most horrific thing i had ever seen. I couldn't believe it. "This must be a nightmare" i kept telling myself, as i fell on my knees.
The man in white left his car, slowly made his way to our porch, and sat next to me on the stairs. He had multiple wounds and he was shaking terribly, but he still proceeded to light up a cigarette. "Take this" he said to me, as he handed me a business card.  "Don't call the cops. They can't help." he proceeded to say. "Get inside your house, i'll take care of what happened here. Call this number but only when you're ready." he continues. "Ready..for what?" i sobbed in response. "Ready for Salvation." he said.

Some time had passed, weeks, possibly months, since that cursed day. I wasn't leaving my house, i wasn't going to work, i wasn't doing anything. My life had come to an halt and i didn't know what to do, up until something happened. Whatever organization that guy I had ran over belonged to, they found me.
They likely thought they'd get the jump on me, visiting me late at night. Sleep however, was replaced by paranoia since that day. As i saw the headlights approach my driveway, I got my handgun out of the safe, calmly sat down on the couch and waited. I
 no longer feared death, for that part of me died long ago.
Shortly after, my door was kicked open and five men entered my living room with handguns. They saw the weapon in my hands and started yelling at me, I couldn't really understand them, they didn't speak English. I complied and put the gun on the table in front of me, and sat back with my hands up as one the men approached and snatched the gun off the table, while another made a call. "We're in his house, we found him" he said in a broken English. "Ok we're waiting for you here" he continued. I bided my time, waiting for them to relax and put down their guns. My moment came as they all peered out the front of my house for whoever was to join us. Once the time was right, I quietly reached below my seat, slipping free the same machine gun that had taken my wife. It only took a single sweep, the gun whispering through the entire mag and all five of them were on the ground. I made sure there were no survivors, I grabbed the suitcase I had prepared, and was gone before anyone else arrived.

While sitting on a taxi, heading to the airport, I took out that business card the man in white had left me, and I called the number on it. 
Someone picked up. 

"I need atoning. Please, save me." I said.

 



To be continued..





 

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Art Montana

"Devil In The Jungle"

 

     We don't know with 100% certainty why we exist, and we may never know, but I always looked at life as a sort of culmination of experiences. Every person is made up of all the things they experience and that is what makes them who they are. So I never struggled with the worry of what I was going to do with my life. I just knew that I was going to go out there and take in as much of the world that I could. To see and do things that only a handful of our species will experience...And if I could see or do things that only I would ever experience. That was the ultimate goal. I didn't want to go on these adventures so that I could brag about them to others, nor did I want to post these experiences to Lifeinvader in exchange for likes and "internet clout." These encounters were mine. I guess that's hard for some folks to understand, but I have always felt strongly about this, and it strongly defines my character and outlook.

 

 

     "Times have changed." It's a popular saying, but most people don't truly understand just how much they have changed. Not unless they have lived through those times themselves. In 1974, I was 14 years old. Most 14 year old's in today's world are chronic masturbators and the largest problem in their lives revolves around social media in one way or another. When I was 14, I was lying to everyone about being 14 and enlisting into the military. The Vietnam War was coming to an end and I was looking for purpose. I was looking for an adventure. Before I knew it, I was deep in the shit, out in those godforsaken jungles just itching to soak up as many experiences as I could. Our unit's CO (Commanding Officer) had us in quite a predicament, pinned down, and behind enemy lines. As enemy mortars were exploding on our six, and small arms fire was raining down on us from the front, I remember thinking that I should be scared in that moment, but I wasn't, and I didn't know why. This was exactly where I wanted to be. Soaking up this experience that we were in.
   

     I don't remember when I lost consciousness, or even how it happened, but I imagine that enemy mortar fire finally hit it's target. I woke up to Vietnamese soldiers slapping me and shouting. They had captured me and the rest of our unit and had us all bound and gagged, on our knees in a line. My first thought was they were about to start executing us, and unfortunately, I was right. War tends to bring out the animalistic nature of human beings, but the Viet Cong were particularly savage with the methods they used.
    

     Everyone has heard stories of Vietnam. A popular topic was the types of traps they would set up for unsuspecting American soldiers. These traps were barbaric in nature and were not meant to kill us if we happened upon them. Their purpose was to maim. If an American soldier is killed, then there is nothing else we can do for him in that moment. We would of course retrieve them and bring them back home, but that could be done after all immediate threats were neutralized. If an American soldier is maimed, then it might take as many as 6 other men to protect, and then haul him out to safety, and they must do so while the battle still roars on. So, kill one, and you've only taken one man out of battle. But, if you injure one, you take another 3 to 6 men out of the fight and even put them in greater danger of being killed as well. Which is better?
    

     A shot rang out, jolting me out of the day dream I was having. Our CO's body hit the ground with a thud after one of the VC soldiers shot him in the head, point blank. I still wasn't scared, but I was no longer pondering the "why?" behind it. Instead, I felt a huge wave of sadness because I realized that my life was about to end here. I was sad that I wouldn't have any new adventures, or experience the millions of things that I hadn't yet had the chance to. My mind was still jello at this point, so I can't say what happened exactly. I can only share my experience as my mind remembers it. 

 

I must have blacked out again, because I was standing in a sea of blackness. My injuries were healed. "I must be dreaming." is the exact thought I had...Then it called out to me.

"Art."

I heard it, but I couldn't see it. So I asked, "Who's there?"

"You want to make it out of this jungle alive, don't you?"

They sounded as if they were standing right next to me, and I just remember rubbing my eyes and staring into this darkness for movement.

"I'm going to help you. Then you're going to help me."
    

     The next memory I have is being jolted out of the darkness by a hard punch to my face. The thought I had in that moment was, "Well, I'm not dead YET." I could barely see with the sweat and blood in my eyes, but I saw that Viet Cong soldier raise his pistol above his head and then he brought it down swiftly on the top of my head. Instantly, I found myself standing back in that sea of darkness. I didn't know if this was some kind of spiritual experience, or just my brain trying it's best, and failing, to function through a severe concussion.

 

"You want me to help you, right?"

This is when I felt fear tingling up my spine for the first time in this hellhole, but it was more of a panic. Although I wasn't experiencing actual reality in that moment, I could sense that I didn't have much more time. So I shouted, "Yes! I want to live."

"So be it. Remember all that I've said."

I was still in a state of panic, so I wasn't exactly digesting every thing that this invisible voice, inside a sea of darkness, was telling me. I just wanted to know who this was that was claiming that they could help me, so I asked him, "Who are you?" 

"Lucifer."
    

     Now, my memory immediately after he says this just goes blank, and I do not remember anything until I woke up in a hospital bed in an infirmary. I was still so young back then, and although I remember this encounter perfectly, I certainly wasn't going to entertain the idea that any of it was even remotely real. I was told that they rescued me and a couple other of the survivors from that enemy camp. They said we were lucky that the VC had decided they were going to decapitate us with machetes as another way to put fear into U.S. troops. This apparently bought us a little more time alive as the machetes they had wouldn't cut branches, much less flesh and bone. They were busy sharpening them when our boys rolled through with force.
    

     That's beside the point though. I didn't put any stake into my experience with this...voice being something that was real. Hell, I didn't even think about it for so many years. I was alive, and I experienced as many things as you can imagine, and still, I was hungry for more. It was about 3 weeks ago that this hunger brought me to the city of Los Santos, and I was really enjoying it as I settled in. About a week after moving to LS, I meet a man. He was a very polite and well spoken man. He tells me that Los Santos is plagued with bad things happening to good people, and that he is part of somewhat of an organization that aims to do something about it. He seems to like me, and tells me that he needs my help. Then he tells me his name...Lucifer.

 

TO BE CONTINUED...


 

 

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Salvation meets Kudo-Kai

 

 

 After countless internal meetings and high command discussions, it was decided that to gain the respect and power Salvation was striving for they would need to begin entering discussions with other organizations. The first on the list was a well known organization, the deadly Yakuza group known as Kudo-Kai. Our members had heard the name many times, most of them never having a negative interaction with them, but knowing very well what they were capable of. We were directed to meet at an inconspicuous underground parking garage, and as a sign of professionalism and respect, Salvation arrived unarmed. We arrived at the location and ordered our members to form a line across from the members of Kudo, with our high command in front.

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As the last few members from both sides arrived, introductions began. While there were familiar faces on both sides, greeting were exchanged all around. Before discussions could begin, someone called out that the LSPD pulled up outside the parking garage. The call was made to leave the area, everyone taking different routes to not be tailed.

 

After some time had passed and things cooled down, Salvation received a new location. We were asked to meet at the Observatory. This spot was well known to our members, with many memories being made there, such as the shootout with the LSPD only a few days prior. Our convoy arrived and was escorted to a location nearby to resume our conversation. Once again, our members lined up across from Kudo-Kai, and discussions began between high command. Conversation was made about our connections, who we consider friends and enemies, what sort of business occupies Salvation

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The high command of Kudo passed on some advice, telling us about their standing in the city, what they had heard about Salvation. We were informed that until we decided which side of The War we stand on, we would be remaining neutral with Kudo-Kai. This came as no surprise to us, and discussions about the topic were already being had internally. 

Salvation and Kudo-Kai parted ways, offering handshakes and nods to each other, wondering if in the future we will fight side by side or in each others sights.

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A NEW BEGINNING


Jet Lag

 

It was one of the longest flights of my life, what seemed like a 7 hour flight to Los Santos was going to change my life. As soon as I landed and headed straight for the DMV to get myself a Driver’s License and passed it on the first try I decided to get a job. The first job that caught my eyes was bus driving. I had seen tons of buses on the roads in the city and said that this had to be a very popular job. I headed straight to the nearest Bus depot and passed my interview and got the job, and took a long awaited sleep before my first day on the job.

After a few days of being a bus driver, I was told that driving in Paleto passes more than driving in the city so I got a taxi and headed up to Paleto. The driver was super friendly, he said that he gets lots of people heading to Paleto due to the amount of jobs up there. After a 45 minute drive and a hefty fee we finally made it there, The Town of Jobs, there was farming, fishing, bus driving and even a corner. I went with what I knew best and had the most experience in Busing. I was busing day in and day out starting to make some cash. I headed to a nearby clothes shop and decided to buy some new clothes.
 

Hot Wheels

 

After saving up for a few weeks i was finally able to by my first car, The most common Warrener, which i got a good deal on due to it coming with turbo already and upgraded the engine and changed the rim and gave her a nice paint job and she was ready to get me from point A to point B. While waiting on the Paleto Bank to open to collect my salary I decided to take a picture of where I was at in life. As I was heading back to the bus depot to start my job someone drove past me in a green van and I was curious to see what it was. I was seeing a few of these green vans in Paleto. I managed to stop one and a local chicken and wheat farm where he said he was a farmer growing and delivering wheat to the local Cluckin' Bell Factory. They said that the pay was way more than busing but was more labor work, but I'm always ready to get my hands dirty. So I went up to my boss and explained to him that I wanted to further my experience and he understood and  I collected my last pay slip and headed straight for the farm. I grabbed my clothes and tractor and started farming.

 

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We got a job”

 

The farm was super hot after there was a shot out with someone stealing their farm van. So there were like 3 cops searching for this person. I made one friend there “Dez Sharpton”, who was very eager to do a store robbery. One night while I was farming Dez gave me a call, and he said “We got a job” and to meet him at the Route 68 gas station. He dropped off my last load, signed out and headed straight there.

When I got there I was greeted by 2 masked people who would be my partners in crime to this day. “Max Myer'' and “Issac Martinson”. Max began to say it was a quick and easy job, one person sticks up the teller while the rest grabs the cash 5 minutes the most in and out. Everything went smooth, we got our cut, exchanged numbers and we went our separate ways Max said he would contact us for another job.


 

Until We Bring Salvation

 

A few weeks had passed and Dez told me to meet him by eclipse tower for a little meeting with Max, I went there after work and the meeting commenced. Max began to explain to us that he was tired of how the police in the city run things and their not helping people, after being sentenced for something that happened a few weeks before the meeting. He told us that he wanted to start a gang called “Salvation” to save the city. I was fully immersed and it started a new beginning for Joshua Brathwaite in Salvation.

 

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Edited by DQ_Redz
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On 4/4/2021 at 11:00 AM, Max Myers said:

Legally: We are a group of bodyguards who will protect people for payment. However, at the end of the day we are vigilantes who want to control the illegalities of Los Santos.

This aspect is something I would love to see fleshed out more and come to fruition. Vigilante RP would be very interesting to see and add a unique factor to your group over others as if this ends up being a large part of your lore it would stand you out from generic gangs purely interested in the normal illegal stuff. 
I look forward to seeing where this bit goes.

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