Disclaimer: This is an original Grand Theft Auto fan fiction. All names mentioned here not found in the game are entirely fictional and purely coincidental. I'd like to point out that this is under the 3D Era of the series.

Also suggest, comment, and rate or whatever. This is just the first story out of the trilogy. Enjoy!

Los Santos's neon eyes shone brightly behind the late night curtains. Towering edifices and its starlights shimmered along the black backdrop. Everything went along, peace and quiet.

Most of the citizens in Los Santos slept with their eyes shut untroubled. I am still awake from the music blaring inside my Sabre, an old muscle car. I was already heading home, my deliveries done for the day. I lie on a quiet intersection in the middle of East Los Santos, waiting for the traffic signal to let me go. The district was once filled with colorful and diverse characters now a cesspool of misfits and thugs. Rundown buildings towered over the area, its walls scrawled with graffiti and obscenities that added more to its poor reputation.

I gazed out my window to assess.

I looked around and saw no one; not even a sole bystander. As I turned away halfway, a man appeared in view. He stood there at a distance behind me, in a narrow path between two tenements, half-hidden in the shadows. Tall and muscular. He wore grey pants and leather belt, and plain blue shirt. His face blurred by the looming shadow yet his eyes stood out. His gaze dragged toward me, glance flickered as I looked back. His hands were stuffed in his pockets, rummaging something. Doubt had not crossed my mind yet his actions proved otherwise. Then, he stopped. After a while, I completely ignored my suspicion. Recognizing it as nothing, I swiveled my gaze away from him, my fingers drummed on the steering wheel and waited for the signal light to paint my car green.

I glanced at him again and he began to approach me. Suddenly, everything went a blur. My head entered into overdrive. The split-second motion kept me frozen and it disabled me from my senses. He quickly pulled something out of his pocket and there it was, a gun. He pointed it close to the driver window, a stretch from my head. My eyes struck between the lines, catching only a brief glimpse of his face. As the trigger finger closed its mark on me, I shoved his arms skyward without a thought. His hands clipped the upper frame of the window and he flinched in pain, dropping the gun. I opened the door in haste, slammed the would-be killer against it as he tried regaining momentum. Fortunately, he fell down the tarmac, writhing in pain. I got out and stomped his arm against the asphalt, making a crunching noise to boot. He cried in agony.

Then, I took his gun from the ground.

BANG!

A piercing cry through his head stopped the whimper. The single shot sealed my fate and in some sense I realized, I woke up this sleeping neighborhood. Residents might trace the echoing shot and call the police if they knew who did it. An attention I did not want. I bolted away from the scene before the unwanted attention caught up to me.

Three steps in and I sensed something off. The quiet streets in front of me just had an unexpected guest. A van – a black Rumpo, came careening right to me. Tires screeched through the once-quiet street, fiercely like a raging bull.

Goddammit. What the hell is going on?

The van drew in closer every second. I looked around in panic for an escape. Left or right, it did not matter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an alleyway. Not just one but four ways. By pure chance, narrow alleyways littered the way. Two from the left and the right. No time to make a choice. I relied on my instinct to survive this.

I sprinted to the nearest alleyway. The wheels began to roar loudly toward me. The image of the van grew big as my step closer to my destination dead ahead also meant a step closer to them at me. My heart raced and adrenaline let loose in my body just to get away from the road.

I rolled toward the mouth of the alleyway as I reached the corner. The van barreled down toward me but it crashed and slammed itself into the corner. It finally came to a dead stop. The smoking husk blocked the entrance sideways. I rested for a bit to have quick breaths, my body close to collapse from the sudden action.

But fate did not go its own way.

Within the span of a second, two yellowish-white lights flashed at me. I squinted my eyes against the blinding gaze. It came from another van in front of me, same model from the one crashed behind me. Now, I am in a stand-off. I realized by now that the section of the alleyway I ran into was only narrow and it opened up into a wide alleyway stretching to the only way out of here, right where this van stood. The van hungered for roadkill its appetite could not satiate. I sighed in heavy disbelief but I remained steadfast. With its engine all revved up and geared, I waited for it to go headfirst.

.

..

...

And it was off.

The van led the impasse, its headlights impaling me with its imaginary skew. The lights overtook the night sky with its deadly luminescence. The van sped toward me. I stood my ground waiting for the right chance. In the precise moment, the van closed the gap, now a meter from me and I slid to the right, right out of its path. The van swerved toward my direction and barreled straight through a brick wall. Bits of debris fell from the commotion. The mangled van managed to stuck itself slightly through the wall with its driver knocked out cold; his bleeding head slumped on the steering wheel. The van came to an abrupt halt. I got up and check myself for injuries. The van missed me barely, grazing my soles by its tires. Though, more of a tap and nothing more.

End of round one.

Round two swiftly followed.

Four gunmen, wielding .44 magnums, got out of the first van that chased me on the streets earlier, greeting with much gusto. Damn it. The bastards really did not know when to give up. They brought disturbance in the area; uncertain to their inevitable doom.

Shit, I'm gonna be dead meat.

They packed more firepower than mine and a direct hit from a single shot would end my ordeal. If this really was my fate, I accepted this with open arms but my mind said I had to survive. A burning question seared through my head: I wanted to know who caused all of this.

They advanced toward me as I ducked behind a nearby chest-high cover. They were zeroing in in front of me in a 'Y' formation. They fired shots, inching close. It lasted for a brief moment before gunfire stopped. I poked out of cover and quickly capped three of them, marching in from the sides and the front. I got down again to regain. Then, I peeked out of cover again, only to see the last target scurrying away through the groaning night. I anticipated a final kill but I would give him a chance to live another day... for now. Repent for his sins by telling these fools not to mess with me. I stood up and investigate the scene. I ignored the unconscious drivers and searched for any useful loot from my fallen foes. I combed through them and found dog-tags and tattoos. I took one dogtag from the last corpse and flipped its side. Engraved on it was a name - Lucky Sevens.

Ah yes, the Lucky Sevens. They were just a minor ill-reputed gang residing a bad neighborhood. In the former Vagos territories no less. They popped out of nowhere ever since the Orange Grove rose to power last year. Simply put, just a snippet article in a late-edition newspaper. I gathered thoughts from my actions and walked away from the mess behind me.