The Slaughter of the Black Fangs

The Black Fangs were still reeling from their failed ambush in the tunnels.

They had sent a five-man kill squad, and I had butchered them in minutes.

Now, I had their radio frequencies, their weapons, and their location.

It was time to wipe them out completely.

Their main base was a converted warehouse—a massive structure surrounded by a scrapyard full of rusted cars and debris. They had fortified it with makeshift barricades and posted guards on the rooftops.

In Endless Ruin, this was where the protagonist fought them months into the apocalypse—when they were stronger, armed with looted military gear.

But they weren't expecting me now.

This would be a massacre.

I drove my armored SUV toward the warehouse district, parking a few blocks away. The night was quiet, but my mind was calculating everything.

I checked my supplies.

✔ Four homemade pipe bombs.✔ One remote-detonated car bomb.✔ Gasoline canisters for arson.✔ Suppressor-equipped Glock and combat shotgun.

This wasn't a raid.

It was extermination.

I crept through the scrapyard, weaving between rusted vehicles, placing small explosives in key areas.

✔ One near the main entrance.✔ Another near the gas generator.✔ Two hidden near the escape routes.

Once they detonated, their only exit would be through me.

Two rooftop snipers were posted, armed with bolt-action rifles.

I pulled out my homemade crossbow—a silent, high-powered weapon I had built using scavenged parts.

The first sniper was smoking a cigarette, looking relaxed.

I aimed for his throat and fired.

THUNK!

The bolt pierced his neck, and he collapsed without a sound.

The second sniper turned—too late.

I sprinted up the fire escape, grabbed his rifle barrel, and wrenched it sideways.

He pulled the trigger—BANG!—but the shot went wild.

I drove my combat knife into his armpit, slicing through muscle and arteries.

He screamed, but I grabbed him by the back of the head and slammed his face into the railing.

CRUNCH.

His nose exploded, blood splattering against the rooftop.

I twisted his neck—SNAP—and let his body drop.

I activated the radio I had stolen from one of the dead Black Fangs.

"You hear that? Sounded like a shot—"

I pressed the detonator.

BOOM!

The warehouse entrance erupted into fire, sending flaming debris flying in all directions.

The second explosion took out the generator, plunging the area into darkness.

Screams filled the air.

I moved.

The gangsters were in full panic mode.

Some scrambled for weapons, others tried to run.

I didn't give them a chance.

I dropped from the rooftop, landing behind a group of three.

Before they could turn, I swung my arc baton, smashing it into the first guy's spine.

BZZZT!

The electricity cooked him alive. He dropped, spasming violently.

The second turned with a pistol—I grabbed his wrist and snapped it sideways, forcing him to scream.

I jammed my knife into his temple, twisting hard.

He dropped.

The third tried to run—

BANG!

A clean shot to the back of the head.

Blood and gray matter painted the wall.

I stepped over the corpses and kept moving.

Inside, the warehouse was chaos.

Gunfire echoed, muzzle flashes lighting up the darkness.

The Black Fangs had no coordination.

I had tactics.

I kicked open a door, unloading my shotgun into the first man I saw.

The buckshot tore into his chest, sending him crashing into a stack of crates.

Another gangster rushed me with a machete.

I let him get close, then punched him square in the jaw.

The shock gauntlets activated, sending 50,000 volts straight through his skull.

His eyes rolled back, foam spilling from his lips before he collapsed.

Another tried to blindside me.

I ducked, grabbed his collar, and slammed his head into a steel beam.

His skull cracked open like a melon.

Blood ran down my gloves, staining my armor.

I kept moving.

Inside, the warehouse was chaos.

Gunfire echoed, muzzle flashes lighting up the darkness.

The Black Fangs had no coordination.

I had tactics.

I kicked open a door, unloading my shotgun into the first man I saw.

The buckshot tore into his chest, sending him crashing into a stack of crates.

Another gangster rushed me with a machete.

I let him get close, then punched him square in the jaw.

The shock gauntlets activated, sending 50,000 volts straight through his skull.

His eyes rolled back, foam spilling from his lips before he collapsed.

Another tried to blindside me.

I ducked, grabbed his collar, and slammed his head into a steel beam.

His skull cracked open like a melon.

Blood ran down my gloves, staining my armor.

I kept moving.

The last few survivors were holed up in the main office, barricading the door.

I took out my homemade car bomb detonator.

Time to send a message.

I pressed the button.

BOOOOOM!

The SUV I had rigged with explosives went up in a fiery blast, shattering every window in the warehouse.

Flames erupted, smoke billowing into the night.

The Black Fang leader, a tattooed brute named Reese, stumbled from the wreckage, coughing blood.

He locked eyes with me.

"You—you're the one who—"

I shot him in both kneecaps.

He screamed, collapsing onto the pavement.

I walked up, gripping my shock gauntlet, and grabbed his jaw.

I pressed 50,000 volts directly into his skull.

His eyes burst from their sockets.

He convulsed one last time, then went still.

The Black Fangs were gone.

All of them. 

stood in the burning wreckage of what was once the biggest gang in New Vale City.

The police wouldn't come. They had already stopped caring about gang wars.

But word would spread.

✔ A nameless killer had wiped out an entire faction in one night.

✔ Survivors would hear of me.

✔ Other gangs would take notice.

The apocalypse was only a week away.

And now, the city belonged to me.