Post by GREYtheFLAILER on Mar 22, 2012 16:26:56 GMT -5
P L O T
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[Note: Members don't need to read this, unless you wish to know everything there is to know about the site. It's rather large and somewhat frightening, so don't feel obligated to do so. C;]
“Today, someone will die.” The coldly-spoken words slipped past the rugged man’s chapped, thin lips as he squinted towards Laredo, his right hand flying up to his forehead in order to shield his eyes from the early-rising sun. The group of men behind him uttered not a word in response, and instead offered a series of slow, sincere nods, their gaze also glued firmly to the current target. Their eyes shone with an unfathomable lust for revenge as the larger group eyed up the awakening city, the horses beneath the men giving a few, high-strung snorts, as if they knew the excitement of which was to come. The man who had spoken turned his head to look at his eager followers, and with a tip of his dusted hat, pushed his heels into his steed’s barrel, sending the beast in an eager gallop towards town. The group followed without hesitation, urging each and every one of their horses into a powerful and collected gallop, hands snaking into their holsters, in order to grasp at their guns.
Twenty-four people were slaughtered that early, spring morning; eleven of them of whom were innocent civilians, twelve people who were involved with the Contra El Mal, and one child.
For as long as anyone can remember, the Pistoleros and the Contra El Mal have been savage, brutal rivals; constantly out for the blood of the other gang’s members. For years upon years, they were the only two gangs throughout all of Texas, battling only with one another, and keeping most of their exchanges away from towns, out of fear they may hurt ht innocent. From the very moment the Contra El Mal began working with the law, apprehending criminals and outlaws of all sorts, they were dubbed as the “good guys,” always looking out for the civilians of Texas, thus earning a raging hatred from the Pistoleros. Not only would they return nasty, foul men to where they belonged behind bars, but they were entirely unafraid of any challenge, and soon became close with each and every town sheriff. Within a few, short months of them working with the law, several Pistoleros members had been taken in to prison for their crimes, thus leaving the rest of the gang unsettled and seeking revenge. The Pistoleros was a large, dominating band of men, and never before had they been granted with such a threat.
Two months and five more members apprehended later, and they were prepared to show the people of Texas what they were made of. And, show them they did.
The group of twenty-eight rode into Laredo, guns drawn and loaded, and shot anyone within sight that tried to stop them. Whether it be a woman, hollering at them to leave her town alone, or a man un-holstering his own firearm in hopes of catching one of the vicious members; they gave little care. But, it wasn’t the civilians in whom they were truly after; The Contra El Mal had been staying within the town for the past few weeks on their monthly rounds, and so they’d charged into town, looking to murder as many of the gang members as they could. And, they did; twelve men, all of the Contra El Mal, perished that day, for considerably unjust causes. The blood-thirsty gang rode into the town, and within moments, rode right back out, not one man neither harmed nor upset with their wrong-doings. Each and every member was hollering and whooping with excitement, as the bodies of the deceased were being sobbed over, back within the town streets.
It was this event, the public massacre of over twenty people, in which caught the attention of beings all over the country. Not only did Contra El Mal’s member count grow, but men of whom admired the Pistoleros’ courage joined the gang, as well. However, more people wanting to join the famous gang brought more than just men. On a cool evening, just months after the massacre, the group was approached by four, rugged women. Arms crossed and lips pursed, the women stated their reasoning for coming; they’d wished to take part. They were accepted into the Pistoleros, hesitantly of course, but after wild change of events, things began to change.
A newcomer from outside of Texas had heard of the wild gang, and upon his arrival, stated the fact he would be leading the group from that point on. When the leader stood, ready to defend his title, the man shot him dead, easily grabbing the attention of each and every member. Four people, in all, protested against his savage taking of the position, and each of those members were slaughtered; shot in the leg first, then hung from the tree nearby for the other members to stare at in blatant awe. Never, had a man killed one of his fellow members; it was unheard of. And so, the man got what he’d wished for—within no time, he became the respected leader of the gang, and within but a week, he was to make it very clear no women would be allowed within the group.
Very clear.
One night, the leader, against their wishes, violently took each woman’s innocence, and then proceeded beat them until they were hardly conscious, only before dumping them at the doorway of the nearest inn. He’d knocked on the door with a smile, and as an elderly woman opened the door, eyes widening with the horrific sight before her, he’d pointed his firearm at her, encouraging her to quickly usher his victims inside without a word.
And, like everything does, this event started somewhat of a powerful chain reaction; the abuse of four women, simply looking for a place to belong, was seen as an outrage—thus inspiring other women to band together and form a gang of their own. Within the first week of the creation of the all-woman gang, of whom titled themselves as the Dama Suerte, three members of the Pistoleros were dead. The Contra El Mal began struggling to keep the crime rates down, even with the effort of every officer within each town, but soon, illegal activity and violence exploded. Soon enough, all three gangs were considered to be at war, and with all of the nearby violence, the Apache had become somewhat involved, as gang members had been crossing their land without reservation. Violence became a common sight, and seeing as within a few, mere months, the state of Texas had become pure chaos, yet another group joined in with the madness. Zorro Del Diablo, a band of rowdy Spanish men across the border, took advantage of the weakness, and began to smuggle people illegally over the border. Because of this, not only is Contra El Mal after Zorro Del Diablo, but the other two gangs are still battling heavily, leaving the townsfolk and Apache fearing for the heavily missed peace and serenity.
Years passed since this brutal, wretched time, and yet, crime rates are still through the roof. Immigrants have made their way over the border without problem, and there’s an average of one or two deaths per day. Will you take part in trying to stop this madness, or join in, head first? It’s your choice, but I’d choose wisely—for, if you make the wrong one, you might end up dead, as so many have before.
