I've been replaying Saints Row 2 an awful lot here lately, so I'm deciding to give my own little spin on how the Boss takes back his city. The Boss will have a name, being referred to as Colten, which is actually pretty close to my name. Anyway, here's hoping you enjoy! :D I know the game was set in 2007...or 2008, but this will be set in more modern times, as there will be references to Deadpool, Star Wars, Civil War, etc.) Another note, Colten will be somewhat more technologically smarter.
I own nothing of Saints Row, as they now belong to Volition and Deep Silver.
I own nothing of any quotes I write, whether they be Deadpool, Batman, Doctor Who, Star Wars...well, you get the idea.
In the beginning, he had been a man too scared to talk, but willing to follow orders. And what had he gotten for it? Blown the fuck up. He was laid out in the Stilwater Penitentiary Infirmary, currently resting. He had no idea how long had passed, but once he was back on his feet, there would be hell to pay. Colten wasn't going to stand around and take orders anymore. Fuck that. He briefly heard some voices surrounding his bedside, delicate hands unwrapping the bandages around his face. How badly was he scarred? 'I bet I look like an avocado that had sex with a more disgusting, far older avocado. Ah, Deadpool, never change.' He thought to himself with a mental chuckle.
"Well, that looks like it healed up nicely." The nurse remarked, holding up a small face mirror to Colten. Gray eyes stared back at him, his tan skin somewhat lighter under the fluorescent lights the infirmary had. He had a scar that ran jagged down his left cheek, and a small scratch on his eyebrow, but other than that, the girl was right, he did heal up nicely. He opened his mouth and ran his tongue along the top row of his teeth, 'Okay, at least a few new teeth. That's weird, but I'll get over it.'
"Be careful nurse, that's a dangerous patient." One of the guards remarked.
"You may wanna think of what you're going to say to the judge, Saint," the other one remarked, "C'mon man, let's go get ahold of Troy." Colten's eyes narrowed somewhat; Troy? Wasn't he a Saint as well? How long was he outta the game? He laid his head back onto his pillow, only for the person next to him to move the curtain back that split them apart and motion to him, Colten catching it out of the corner of his eye.
"Pst!" The man whispered. "Are you really him?"
Colten turned slightly and rose an eyebrow, taking in the man's appearance. Minus the orange jumpsuit that they both wore, the man had brown eyes, was of Hispanic or Latino descent, if his accent was of any indication, and atop his head he wore a purple beanie. Perhaps the kid wanted to represent the Saints? "Do I know you?"
"My brother used to be in the Saints, talked about you all the time." The man answered. "Look, we gotta get you out of here."
Not even five minutes awake, and Colten couldn't bite back the sarcastic reply, "Oh yeah, if we ask real nice, I'm sure they'll let us go."
"I know a way out." Came the patient reply.
"Then why the fuck are you still here?" Colten's right eyebrow rose once again, his gaze piercing the male.
"I heard you were awake and wanted to see for myself." Seeing Colten lay back down, the man continued, "Getting out of here is a two man job, and no one else has the balls to try."
"So what, you expect me to trust someone I don't even know?" Colten grumbled out, staring up at the ceiling.
"Look, I just got shanked so I could talk to you, doesn't that prove to you I'm loyal?" The man persisted.
"It shows you're dumb enough to get yourself stabbed in the first place." Colten sneered.
"I'm trying to help!"
"And you wanna know what I got the last time I trusted someone? Blown the hell up." Colten growled, frowning.
"Look, you need me to get out of here." Just the way the man spoke, it struck a nerve within Colten, who jabbed a finger in his direction.
"The fuck I do, I got the Saints." Seeing the man merely chuckle and disregard that, Colten narrowed his eyes, "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"
"How long do you think you've been out?" the man questioned.
"I dunno, 2-5 weeks?" Colten guessed, shrugging his shoulders.
"Despite you thinking you're a badass, do you know where you're at? Without my help, you'll be wandering the prison for hours, even if you manage to hide from the guards that long. Besides that, if you make it outside these walls, you'll just come to find out you're sitting on a goddamned island."
"So, what? You got a way out of here?" Colten continued to stare up at the ceiling once more.
"Not exactly, but I know where we can find a boat and steal it, thus ensuring our victory and escape outta here."
Colten thought for a minute before nodding, "Fine, let's get the fuck outta here." He stood, stretching and trying to regain feeling in muscles that hadn't been used for however long he was out. "What's your name, kid?"
"The name is Carlos." came the reply, as Carlos stood as well.
"Alright then Carlos, let's do this." Colten said before he walked up behind the head doctor, sneaking as quietly as he could. The rubber sole squeaked, causing the doctor to turn around in alarm, but Colten was already upon him. Slamming his fist into the doctor's face, he followed up by a jab to the liver, finishing with an elbow strike to the temple, watching as the man of medicine crumpled like a puppet with his strings cut.
"We can either go charging out the front, or sneak out from the roof. Your call." Carlos said, watching Colten with wide brown eyes. He couldn't believe that even after five years, the guy still had the deadly skills that he had earned when he first joined the Saints. His brother told him all about how Colten would dispatch his enemies with ease, using either only his hands, his knife, or pistol. Nodding, Colten kicked open the doors to the infirmary and charged one of the cops head on. Eyes scanning the badge, Colten grabbed the nightstick from Office Hanes and slammed it into his temple. The officer dropped and Colten quickly snatched up the Vice 9, watching as Carlos eventually finished off the female officer.
The two made their way out of the prison, shooting and using the officers as meat shields. One of the cop cars approached them at a high speed, only to stop and roll as Colten shot the driver. Carlos and Colten then pulled away from the prison, heading toward the docks per Carlos' instructions. Sailing through the air via a mound of gravel, the car landed with a thump. Exiting the car, Colten led the two toward the boat, firing off his gun at the cops inching their way toward them, "Let's get the fuck outta here, Carlos."
"Well, get in the boat, I'm drivin'." Carlos instructed, while Colten picked up a nearby AR200 SAW, and holding it. Seeing boats and helicopters heading toward them, he smirked and eyed them.
"It's showtime." He began to fire with a cold grin, watching with satisfaction as boats and helicopters alike exploded, the flames lighting up the night. Feeling the heat from a bullet grazing by him, he turned and fired off at the helicopter hovering near them, watching as bullets peppered the side and pilot's window. Continuing to fire, the pilot ceased to live, the helicopter sailing downward and crashing into a boat that was gaining on them, both exploding into a giant fireball. "Hell yeah, two for one!"
The boat eventually slowed down, as Carlos came to join him. "Is that the Row?"
"Yeah, it is now." The man replied.
"Cazzo," Colten cursed in Italian, "What happened to it?"
"Ultor got involved." Carlos responded, as Colten wracked his brain. Ultor, Ultor...? The clothing company? Asking Carlos, the kid nodded, "Yeah. After your little boat explosion with Hughes, Ultor was there to pick up the pieces. They're on TV, billboards, buildings. Hell, if you ever forget where or what Ultor is, just look at the fucking eyesore at Saints Row." He pointed toward the giant building in the dead center of Saints Row, as Colten narrowed his eyes. They docked the boat, as Colten ran a hand through his hair, grimacing. He needed a hair cut, as long hair didn't suit him. He shrugged, there would be time for that later. "Here we are."
"So, where can I find the other Saints?" Colten questioned, gazing at Carlos as he crossed his arms.
"Tch, what other Saints?" Carlos gave a humorless laugh.
"What's that mean, bastardo?" Colten narrowed his eyes.
"No one to lead them, the Saints fell apart. Then with the three new gangs, the Brotherhood, the Samedi and the Ronin, the rest of the Saints dropped their flags before they could get killed. Now, I know you didn't ask for this, but the cops are looking for ya, and a lot's changed. My advice is to go grab a beer and soak up any information you can."
"Thanks, Carlos." Colten nodded his thanks, and watched as the kid ran off into the night. He sighed and did the same thing, stealing the first vehicle he came across, which so happened to be a Hammerhead. He jacked said vehicle and headed toward one of the cheaper clothing stores known as Sloppy Seconds. Once there, he ignored the clerk's comment of "Oh shit, is that you?" before grabbing an all black tank top, dark blue jeans, and some running shoes. He grimaced at himself in the mirror, "It's no Impressions, but it'll have to do for now." He sighed, always hating that he wanted the finer things in life, especially clothing. He shrugged and got back into the Hammerhead, and pulled out, heading down a few blocks towards the local bar Tee'N'Ay. Exiting, he stepped inside and sat down at the bar, eyes glued to the TV.
"It is said by some, to be the trial of the century." Jane Valadrama spoke into the camera, the microphone near her lips. Colten regarded the TV with a bored expression, accepting the beer from bartender, Berry. "A notorious member of the gang once known as the '3rd Street Saints', Johnny Gat was arrested last year in an assassination attempt against now Chief of Police, Troy Bradshaw. In the resulting trial, Mr. Gat has been convicted of one count of attempted murder, and a staggering three hundred eighty seven counts of 1st degree murder, sending him straight to death row. Over the last year, Gat's legal team has tried appeal after appeal..."
"Hey, Berry, turn this shit off!" A male called out, sitting down next to Colten. Colten glanced at the male, who was decked out in a dark red vest, a white T shirt underneath, red pants, and boots. His arms and neck were decorated in ink, while his face and ears were punctured with piercings. 'Interesting.' Colten thought to himself before frowning as Berry did what he was told.
"I was watching that." Colten protested.
"Well, I guess you aren't anymore, are ya, bitch?" The male sneered. Colten merely nodded in reply before grabbing the male's beer and slamming it down onto his face. The male was thrown from his bar stool, trying to process the pain from his position on the ground.
"Mind turning the TV back to the news, Berry?" Colten asked kindly.
"In a few short moments, we'll be allowed back into Gat's courtroom to see if he'll be going home a happy man, or a dead one. Back to you, Jack." Jane signed off, the news cutting back to the anchorman, Jack.
"Oh, merda." Colten swore before getting up from his barstool and heading toward the door. However, hearing an angry yell caused him to turn around, only to side step a charging gang member, his friend still laid out from the beer bottle. "You've gotta try better than that." Colten taunted before striking with his fist, slamming it into the male's nose, shattering it. Following up, Colten struck with a hook, followed by an uppercut to the liver, and finishing off with an elbow to the temple.
The guy was slightly dazed, and almost down for the count, so Colten quickly grabbed a nearby barstool and slammed in down, watching as the man crumbled. Quickly searching the male, Colten took the cash and the Vice 9 ammo on his body before exiting the bar. Encountering more gang members wearing red, Colten dispatched one of them with a headshot, before shooting the other one in the knee, dropping him. "Tell me, which gang are you a part of?"
"The Brotherhood you piece of shit, and whenever we get a hold of you-" He was cut off as Colten ended his life, before the Saint pocketed his Vice 9 and got back into his Hammerhead. He had about 3-4 minutes to get to Gat's trial, if he were a guessing man. With that thought in mind, Colten pulled away from the bar and sped off toward the courtroom, speeding down the streets. Seeing some big ass red vehicles in his rearview, Colten pulled out his Vice 9 and began to fire back at the Brotherhood. Getting onto the highway, he watched as a train took out one vehicle, while the other flipped and dove into the water below. Keeping his gun held tight in his grip, Colten drifted to the right and headed straight for the courthouse.
Exiting his car, Colten rushed toward the courthouse, avoiding any news reporter that he could. Entering, he resisted the urge to start shooting up everyone before going upstairs and searching for Gat's coutroom. Stopping, he saw Jane and her cameraman, before frowning. He didn't exactly have any other choice but to go that way, especially if she was going to see Gat's trial to the end. He sighed and walked forward, avoiding them and taking note of the officer stationed before the door to Gat's courtroom. He walked forward and jabbed the officer in the throat.
"Mr. Gat, you have been convicted of over 300 murders. Do you really expect this appeal to work?" The judge stared at him from behind her glasses.
Gat reached up and scratched his head, "I figure with the stature of limitations, it really should be closer to 250."
"There's no stature of limitation to murder!" The judge said in an exasperated tone.
"Why the fuck not?" Gat replied back, staring at her from behind his sunglasses.
"Watch yourself, Mr. Gat." The judge warned.
"Or what, you'll hold me in contempt of court? You're already on planning on giving me the chair, you think I give a shit about you not liking me? Fuck off."
She banged her gavel, narrowing her eyes, "I'm curious if you can keep your cavalier attitude, with 2,000 volts are running through your body."
"Oh yeah?" Gat remarked, smirking, "And I'm curious if you can keep acting like a douchbag when I shove that gavel up your ass!" He motioned with his hands, pointing at her.
"My client would like that stricken from the record!" Gat's attorny, Legal Lee remarked.
Gunshots rang out from outside the courtroom, everyone turning toward the door, "What's that?" The judge questioned. One of the police officers walked forward, only for the door to come crashing down on him. The other officer that was near the judge's chair walked forward, gun ready, only for Colten to pick up the fallen officer's gun and aim it straight at his face.
"Drop it." Colten commanded, watching as the officer did so. However, as soon as the gun hit the floor, it went off, the bullet sailing upward and taking out a light. Everyone in the courtroom except Gat and Colten ducked.
"Anyone hit and need a lawyer?" Lee suggested before ducking back down.
"Shit, about time your burnt ass woke up!" Gat remarked, grinning.
Colten searched the guard for the keys and finding it, tossed them to Gat, "You alright, Johnny?"
"Yeah, besides from almost being sent to the chair, I'm fucking great. Hey, man, you look different. You do something to your hair?"
Colten rolled his eyes and handed Gat the NR4 that was on the dead guard, "You ready to get the fuck outta here?"
Gat grinned and nodded, "Let's go."
Well, that was the first part of my version of Saints Row 2. Hope you all enjoy! R&R!