User blog:MichaelDiaz101/Survival of Scum: Part 1

January 14th, 2009, Vice City. 7:37 AM
By seeking justice in an unjust society one such agent had failed to mark the criteria for the law system in the early 21st century. After trying to overthrow the starch setup he was deemed unworthy of testimony and thus, sent to serve out a sentance deemed forth by the agency. This is James Foster, German-American, tall, good looking even for his age.

He sat on the beach of Vice City overlooking the ocean, thinking, conspiring. His thoughts crying out in anguish, wishing that he held the position he did before. Here he was, on his way to some damned Mafia activist asshole, eliminating him from the gene pool, in hopes of bringing Vice City back to its previous fucking roots. His beach house had served as the sole point of the beach.

This was just another scum who's existence had posioned the fucking earth with every breath his worm lungs had taken. The FIB had not sought to bring him to justice, but rather, to send him to one beyond the grave.

After approaching the front deck James had seeked the chamber in his gun, thus having a bullet ready to fire at a given moment. He checked the silencer to insure that it was properly appiled, don't need a repeat of Alfonso Bay, he swiftly reminded himself of a previous experience when the silencer wasn't properly applied and caused a problem. This time it was.

James moved to slip the bobby pin in the door and in no time had it opened to him. He surveyed the living room, not only was this career criminal bad, he was successful. Not even the greatest of FIB agents live life this large. James slipped across the room making no much as a fiddle in the landscape of the man's living room.

He entered his target's bedroom and saw him still passed out on the queen sized bed.

''Wow, very easy pickings. ''He thought to himself. He put the gun to the man's head and pulled the trigger. Silence, no screams, no audible sounds of discomfort. He died in peace, which can't be said for the rest of us very well. James turned and slowly withdrew from the premises. Leaving VCPD or whoever to happen upon the body.

January 14th, 2009, Liberty City. 11:22 PM
Akara hadn't fully anticipated a trip to America this early on. She wished to remain in Cambodia, this was a true surprise for her. She was born in the city and lived in a city back home but Liberty City was something she'd never quite seen before. Getting fresh off the boat she looked onward at the city of millions of lights.

"Never been to America, aye lass?" Asked her fellow immigrant, an Irishman by the name of Timothy Wright. They'd befriended each other over time.

"No, not even my wildest imagination can fully describe what lies before me right now." Akara responded. "I'm not even quite sure where to go tonight." Akara continued. The Irishmen piped up immediately after her respones. "Hey, my aunt Maureen has offered me a place to stay, you can come with." That was an offer Akara simply could not refuse at this point.

TO BE CONTINUED!