Vice Life
Season 1 - Episode one: Memories of the past.

Disclaimer: I do not own the GTA license, though I wish I did, cause I do have some cool ideas that could be used in it. Nicholas, Vincent, Luey, Georgeo and the made-up name Michael are my own. Also, to anyone who may or may not be Haitian, please do not in anyway, see this as racist, this just a bit of angst towards the ones in GTA: VC, I hate those guys so much, kept pulling me out of my cars, and got police on me when I fought back.

Me: Well, this is it, the first Ep. of what I hope will become a popular fiction, expect lots of cursing, killing, and all that other crap you see in crime dramas. Also tell me if this fiction needs to be upped a rating, since I will have some heavy swearing. BTW, I have made 8 other fictions, 7 of which are in the Legacy of Kain category, all parodies except one and another is still a little silly, please read them sometime, and 1 is in the Silent Hill category, it's a parody of the 2nd game. Now without further ado, the first episode of season one of: Vice Life.


A young man, barely even in his mid-twenties, was turning in bed from the result of terrible dream, but this was no ordinary dream, it was in fact a distant memory, a horrifying and traumatic one. His silvery hair tossed about while several clomps stuck to his brow from the sweat that glistened all over his face. The pain, the sorrow of this memory had haunted him since he was but a small boy, for it was the memory of his dear mother, who had died many years ago.

***The Dream*** The whole vision is blurry, since it was such a distant memory. A young boy watch in horror from the back seat passenger window of a car, he watch as a group of Haitians shot and repeatedly beat his mother, whose once beautiful face was not busted and disfigured from the continuous beating. She pleaded and begged for her life, but they did not listen. The boy's father, tough looking mid-aged man, was pinned to the ground, with an Uzi pointed square in the back of his head, ready to blow his brains out all over the pavement if he dared to move.

"Leave her alone, you dirty bastards!"

He was screamed and yelled at his wife's attackers, cursing them and swearing to kill them if they laid another hand on her. The Uzi wielding Haitian, a brawny one at that, laughed at the man's plea and then thwacked him across the head, rendering him unconscious.

"Daddy!" The boy cried.

A Haitian then stepped towards the now bloody and beaten woman, he was clearly the leader of this group, for his fellows, gave him respectful nods at his presence, took out a Colt Python and pointed it right between the woman's eyes.

"Eat some lead, ya' fuckin' dirty whore!" He cackled as he pulled the trigger.


***End of Dream***

The man shot straight up in bed. "MOTHER!" He screamed; his emerald green eyes darted from side to side as the fear and horror he felt from the nightmare subsided. It was a common reaction to the end of that horrible dream, he breathed heavily and wipe the sweat from his face, which was now pouring down his face like raindrops. His put his face in his hands and sighed, he hated that dream more than anything, though not as much as he abhorred the Haitians, he hated the whole lot of them. He had wished the police, who had arrived only moments after killing his mother, had put the lot of them to death, instead, they were sentenced to prison, where in ten years, their leader was released on 'good' behavior. He scoffed at that thought, the leader's mother, Auntie Poulet, who was the real ringleader, had obviously pulled many strings to get him out. He took a look around his room, which was filled with many things, even though he was in his twenties, he still was a bit of a teenager at heart, for he had many posters of his favorite television and movie idols who were sword wielders, and on one wall was a rack which held many swords of varying sizes, he had many daggers, long-swords, a gleaming broad-sword and a saber. A knock came from his door, which was made of oak and had several beautiful designs on it.

"You ok in there, Vincent?" Called an old man's voice.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Dad." He replied to the voice.

"That dream again?" The voice said; it spoke with some remorse at the question, for the man behind the door was the same man who had been in that very incident.

"Yeah, but I'm fine now." Replied Vincent; he spoke with deep sorrow, that memory had always caused him unease, he even stayed silent for many years after that incident. Though he would still act like a normal child, he couldn't bare to speak.

"Well, get dressed soon, your brother has got some plan and he wants you there to hear it." His father's voice carried through the door.

"Ok, Pops." Vincent said.

He climbed out of bed and began to put on his usual attire, which consisted of black leather pants, a black shirt and a trench coat that covered his belt, which had a sheath attached to it that held his sword, a long katana that was given to him from his father. He then strapped on his leather, metal tipped boots and headed out of his bedroom and into the hallway, which bore a dull red paint and had many beautiful pieces of art on its walls. He admired the many works, which was a kinda hobby to him, and it helped to drown his thoughts of his dead mother. He headed into the main hall which lead to a lower floor only about eight steps from the hall he had came from. He walked down them and headed into the only room on that level, a room with no doors and a wide entrance, he entered and sat on a large armchair that sat a few feet from an old desk, which slightly untidy and had a lamp laying on top. A black chair faced away from Vincent and its occupant stared out three large glass window, which overlooked the back courtyard of the mansion. A small dock lay furthest from the house, where sat an old speedboat. The chair whirled around to reveal an old man, whom was in his early to late sixties, though he still breathed with the stamina of a thirty year old, he wore an old and tattered blue Hawaiian shirt, which was now fading and almost looking white. The man had a slight shadow on his face and stared with a warm yet serious glare, he smiled with grin that showed many of his original teeth were missing, though he could still speak as clearly as ever. This old man was none other than Tommy Vercetti, the renowned crime lord of Vice City; he had been in power for nearly 25 years. He smiled to his son and then leaned back, his chair making a small creek as it was pressed backwards.

"Good morning, Vincent." Tommy said, he said to his son with another grin, he said this with some sarcasm as he saw his son's hair was a tad bed ridden and was all puffy and stringy.

"Morning to you too, pops." Vincent said, that had been his little nickname for his father since he was young, he then tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair while waiting for his brother.

"You know something, you've that spirit your mother had, she was not one to take anything from anyone, even me." His father chuckled lightly and then turned his attention to the sound of footsteps coming from outside the room.

Vincent turned his head slightly watching the doorway out of the corner of his left eye and watched as a man, who looked exactly like him, except for the obvious choice of cloths, which consisted of gray business suit and a small coat, which went over a white shirt. His hair was also shorter than Vincent's and was groomed back to give him a more 'high class' look, he looked at Vincent and nodded to him with a grin and then sat down on the chair opposite of Vincent.

"Good morning to you, father." The man replied, he smiled to Tommy and bowed his head slightly.

"Morning, Nicholas." Tommy said to his son, he regarded his son like he did with Vincent. "So, what is it that you wanted to tell me and Vincent?" He asked leaning forward in his chair with an interested look.

"I got some interesting news from one of my contacts in little Haiti, he just got news that Auntie Poulet, that bitch leader of the Haitians, has resurfaced in that area. Since we all know she fled into hiding after the 'incident' and then appeared to get her bastard son, Gregory out of prison. She's been seen at late hours of the night having meetings with her men and has been said to be brewing up some fights between her sons and the Cubans, obviously trying to gain their territory once more.

"So, what's your plan? Nicholas." Tommy inquired, he was interested in what his son had to say, he had a score to settle with that bitch, not only did she sick her son on his wife, but she had betrayed him for reason except the fact he blew up the Haitian's drug factory.

"I propose we go 'visit' her, if you know catch my meaning." Nicholas said, grinning in an almost evil way. He then chuckled lightly.

"Not a bad idea, sure, why don't we 'visit' old Auntie, shall we?" Tommy said, looking from Nicholas to Vincent. He could clearly see that Vincent was all for it, his stare became serious and his right hand twitched slightly, ready to draw his sword for a Haitian kill.

"I've even already got some 'gifts' from Uncle Phil, he's provided us with just what we need to attack, I've even put together 24 of our best men to join along. There's a Limo out front ready to take us there, even Mitch has said he'll join, he's even brought along 9 of his best." Nicholas explained, he say that his father and twin brother were both agreeing with these arrangements.

"Ok, it's settled then, let's get going then." Tommy said with a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, he was glad that his sons were taking on such great personalities, he stood up and headed towards the doorway. He looked back and motioned for his sons to follow.

They headed down the steps and left through the front door, they made their way down the stone stairway to the parking lot where at least seven limos waited. Tommy and the boys got in the middle one and Nicholas tapped on the window from the back seat, the driver knew what he meant and beeped the car's horn three times. The front Limo beeped back and began to drive forward, the others soon followed suit. The cars waited until the traffic had broken and then pulled out into the highway of Starfish Island, the line of cars caused many of the pedestrians on the sidewalks to become nervous. Tommy and his boys laughed at this. As they crossed the bridge to the next island, a group of motorcycles roared up, five on each side of the line of cars. Mitch pulled by the middle Limo and waved and laughed loudly at Tommy and his boys. Tommy and the boys waved back and grinned as he soon sped back to the front of line; changing the formation to four bikes on each side of the line and one at the front and one at the back.

"Well, here's Uncle Phil's 'gift'." Nicholas said as he pulled a large bomb that was obviously one of Phil's special creations. "Phil says the prototype of this baby is powerful enough to blow up a small building, just the right stuff for that damn bitch, I just hope this is strong enough to destroy every last bit of that fat bitch." Nicholas said, he and his brother and father all laughed at the crude joke. While Nicholas was handing out the guns Phil had given him and they each placed it somewhere for use as a secondary weapon if needed, the line of cars and bikes had reached their destination: Little Haiti, the most despised part of Vice City. The Vercetti's looked at it with disgust, yet a gleam of sadistic joy sparkled in their eyes as they stepped out the car, the other men did so also. Five of them were armed with a bat, five more had a shotgun in hand, another five more had handguns resting in their holster to their sides one more group of five had a large riffle and the last four either had a moltov or a grenade, the bikers had handguns and a few had machete. Tommy took out his favorite gun, the Colt. Python, which he had kept since 86, Nicholas pulled out two Desert Eagles, each one had a holster on one of his sides, Vincent opened the side of coat and unsheathed his sword, he swung it slowly to his left. He, his brother and his father walked towards the small housing area, which was the Haitians home. Suddenly a cry of alarm and warning came from the large warehouse to their right, a Haitian gang member stood on its roof, he was calling out to his fellows, but his cry was ended abruptly as a bullet pierced his throat and he fell from the building, landing headfirst. Tommy smirked as he lowered his gun, the nozzle still leaving a small stream of smoke. Suddenly Haitians popped out from all over the place and took aim. Pedestrians on the streets and those driving by all turned and ran/drove away, wanting no part in the bloodbath that would soon occur.

"Time to kick some, ASS!" Tommy yelled as both sides opened fired.

He and his sons both ducked down as a Haitian bearing a riffle fired overhead, when he stopped to reload, Tommy took aim and blasted him square in the eyes, the Haitian gasped and dropped dead on the spot. A group of at least fifteen Haitian, all carrying a bat or just bare fist, charge forwards, Mitch and his men and Tommy's five went head on to meet them, Vincent ran into the fray too. He ducked a swing from Haitian's bat and cut his throat with a swift swipe, Mitch knocked out a Haitian who had just sneaked up behind Vincent.

"Ya better learn to pay more attention to yer' back, kid." Mitch said as he took the unconscious Haitian's bat and took a swing at another who had charge at him for what he had done to his friend.

"You should be one to talk." Vincent remarked as he stabbed the Haitian Mitch had knocked out, who was just coming to his senses.

"Thanks, kid, I owe ya one." Mitch said as he clobbered the charging Haitian into the pavement.

Meanwhile, Tommy and Nicholas were back to back, and were blasting away Haitian after Haitian, who were pouring into the streets; luckily a dozen or more of Tommy's gang members had walked into the area and joined in. They had been on their patrol, which lead from that part of town, to one of Tommy's many properties: Kaufmann Taxis, which Tommy had bought way back in 86.

"Time to bring in the heavy artillery, NOW!" Tommy yelled, the gang members who had been carrying grenades and moltovs began to hurl their weapons at large groups of Haitians. A grenade hit a Haitian gang vehicle and exploded, taking out a dozen or so of them. While a few moltovs set at least ten of them aflame, who then dropped their weapons and either fell to the ground to put out the flame, or ran about screaming as the flames ate them. Tommy then hopped into one of the Limo and drove it full speed at a cluster of Haitians, who were too busy to get out the way, at least a handful were killed instantly or at least too injured to continue attacking. He then dove out of the vehicle to let it spin out of control and flip through the air; it crashed onto some more Haitians and exploded, killing any near. Tommy then shot three more who had been each hiding behind one of the small houses, he hit each one perfectly and grinned as they fell lifelessly to the ground. He then jumped out of the way of another Haitian gang car that had driven into the scene, it screeched to a halt and four Haitians hopped out and hid behind the vehicle. They then took aim and fired out a few shots each, killing at least ten or more of Tommy's men. Tommy took the opportunity to fire at them while their attention was focused on their other enemies, he hit two right in the left shoulder, one in the right leg and another right through the back of his head.

A news helicopter had flown into the scene about an hour into the battle; its reporter and pilots watched in shock as both sides were taking major casualties and were even more shocked that neither side was showing any signs of giving up. The police were contacted about half an hour after this fight started, but they were told to wait till the firing died down a little, which no sign was apparent yet.

"Eat this, you mother-fucking Haitians!" Nicholas screamed as he blasted away a dozen Haitians with his twin Desert eagles, they all fell, only five or so were wounded, while the others died, bleeding from bullet holes in their heads and chests.

"This is for my mother, you sons of BITCHES!" Vincent cried as he sliced up five Haitians who grouped around him, he cut one's hand clean off, another lost his whole arm, and another lost his head, the other two were mortally wounded but ran off before Vincent had time to finish them.

Suddenly a familiar Haitian stepped out from one of the small houses, which was in fact Auntie Poulet's, who was standing in the doorway, grinning smugly behind the man. "Gregory." Vincent whispered with a hiss as the Haitian came closer, in his left hand was a metal baseball bat, which he slapped in his right palm with dark and sadistic manner, all the while grinning evilly. He then stopped just a few feet from Vincent and then charged forward, he brought the bat above his head and brought it down, Vincent swung his sword from the right and both weapons collided, they scraped against each other. Both men were putting all their might into their weapon to hopefully throw the other off balance. Vincent was unfortunately not as strong as Gregory and was thrown off, he clutched his sword in his left hand tightly, making sure not to drop as he stumbled back, but he was unable to recover in time. Gregory swung his bat with all his might into Vincent's right arm, shattering the bone and nearly dislocating it. Vincent cried out in pain and clutched his arm while also keeping a strong grip on his sword, but was then knocked to the ground from a whack to the back of his head from the butt of the handle of the bat. Vincent's sword bounced across the road and came to rest far out of his reach. Vincent struggled to see through tears of pain as Gregory loomed over him, his bat poised to strike him right in the head, the impact would surely shatter his skull and kill him instantly. He then froze in horrifying realization that this is exactly what had happened to his mother, how she was struck down by a bat. He grimaced, expecting the bat to be brought down any moment.


"AGGGHHHH!" He heard a cry of pain, he opened his eyes and looked up to see Gregory clutching his chest, which had large bullet hole in, his bat, skidded across the pavement out of his reach. Vincent rolled over to his other side and saw Nicholas standing over him, one of his guns smoking from the shot he had just fired.

"I'll get you, ya' dirty bastards!" Gregory called as he ran off as fast as he could, he jumped into a gang car that drove by and was soon driven out of sight, but not before flipping off the Vercetti boys. Nicholas did not care; he kneeled down to Vincent and inspected his wounds.

"He sure did a number on you." He said with smirk, Vincent could not help but laugh softly at the comment. "Thanks, bro." He said to his twin, who had torn a piece from his shirt and used it to mop the blood from Vincent's small wound on his head. "Don't worry about it." He replied as he helped Vincent to his feet and they both made their way safely behind the Limos, Vincent retrieving his sword along the way.

Tommy had used the explosions and the hovering helicopters as a distraction and sneaked behind Poulet's house, he placed the bomb, that Phil had given to Nicholas and set it to blow in ten seconds, that was all the time he needed to get out of the way. He stood up and darted by the front door, where Auntie Poulet was still standing in the doorway, watching the battle. "Have a nice trip in hell, you ugly bitch!" Tommy yelled as he got back to where the Limos were, carefully avoiding the fire from the Haitians, Poulet just responded with confused look before she catched the sound of the bomb's ticking, she was just about to run as fast as she could, but the bomb went off.


The whole area was shook as the bomb took out Poulet's house and at least six others; it even sent the helicopters spiraling out of control, and even killed any Haitians within ten feet of it. Tommy and his boys and his men and Mitch's cheered triumphantly as the remains of the Haitian woman's house burned to the ground. The remaining Haitians stood in shock at what had just occurred and began to retreat, many just heading off in random directions while others jumped into parked gang cars and sped off. Tommy then checked on what was left of his men. Only seventeen were killed, another five were injured. Police sirens soon filled the air and Tommy jumped into the Limo he had came in, he saw Nicholas holding an injured Vincent in his arms, both boys looked back at their father and weakly gave a thumbs up. He grinned at them and told the driver to get them out of there, the driver listened and hastily drove back to the mansion, Mitch and their gang drove past, each waving before speeding back to their territory.

"Well, I'm proud of you boys this day, you truly showed you don't take shit from no one." Tommy said to his sons with a proud grin. He then helped Nicholas get Vincent back into the Vercetti estate, while a random guard closed the gate.

The next morning, the police dropped by and questioned Tommy of his involvement in the huge battle, which he denied and said it was just an 'accidental skirmish.'


So, what do ya think, was it good? I think it was good, though I'm sure it wasn't the best, but I'm sure I'll get better in later episodes. Please review and I will give you all a super special, weapon of destruction to take against any gang that really pissed you off in a GTA game.

See ya!