The industrial tones of dried blood come in the form of that beautiful color of unforgiving erosion. The only beauty I see in this world, the only thing I could ever come to love unconditionally, rust. The dawning sky drowned me in mixtures of a crisp blue and a newly born bashful sun, the East's pollution hiding her face as she greeted me with Los Santos' summer sunrise. It's hard to believe this is the happiest place on earth. Where men mug people in hopes of money for cocain, and hookers strut the sidewalks under the moon's spotlight. Who could be happy here. I'm surely not happy here, but I'd grown a brand new fondness for this shithole ever since that fat fuck kicked the bucket.
"Don't you dare leave Los Santos, niña. Or I will wake up from Hell and hunt you down"
I'd repeat in my Mexican father's accent, laughing at his complete idiocy. That was his last sentance before his packs and packs of cigars cought up to him, his eyes glazed over and his arm went limp. He was never a smart man, or a good father. Not even a very good man. But, he was a master criminal. I'll give him that. Not to mention, he kept me around, and cared for me... when he wanted to. I just would've liked rotting my brain away by watching TV and wasting my life playing video games, than completely covering my face and having "bring-your-daughter-to-a-drug-deal" days.
One of my favorite things about remonising has to be the stupid way he spoke. His stupid accent and his half English threats in front of South Los Santos gangbangers.
"Y/n. You follow! Or these loco hijo de putas will rain el diablo on you."
I know he loved me. He just felt weird showing it, even simple acts like giving me food was strange. He was always too ugly to date, too poor to impress girls, too off the rails to have my grandparents be in our lives. But he loved it that way, completely isolated so you feel nothing on the battle field of the streets. No friends or lovers meant no one to protect. Other than me, the only one to always wear a mask. The only one who knew my fathers full name. On that same level, I love him too, and miss him.
"Ay, you!" A voice call's out to me. Rudely intrupting my moment. Being rudely torn from my thoughts, I'd realised the sunrise was over, and the giant star blossomed above the horizon and led her way towards a haze of dark clouds. I guess rain is on the forcast. So, I turn to look towards the large janior calling out for my attention as he closed the dingey roof door of my old apartment building. They know we well at this point; all I do is sleep, workout, or sit on the roof. Either that or I'm out, having fun.
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Bloody Mary { Michael De Santa x Reader }
FanfictionYou know her, Bloody Mary, like the Queen of England. But in this case, she's the "Queen of Underground Los Santos." Supposedly she was raised around death. Every woman her father would bring around was dead within twelve hours, presumably so he wou...
