Chapter 5: Lance Jackson – Chapter 4

From the author

Hello. I am Wally - aka  - aka Lance Jackson - aka - - -

Every day sometime between 2am and 8am PST, I assume the role of Lance Jackson on the NoPixel Whitelist GTA5 Roleplay Server. 

All live streams can be found  

All edited footage is published . 

Frequency - As often as I can.

All of Lance's thoughts and feelings and interactions are recorded here, in my words.

This is his story. 

The ashes were falling from the air again as the muscle car backed out of the parking lot. "I ate some of that stuff," Lance mumbled from the trunk. Maybe that was what was causing him to feel so strange... 

"What!?" Sai exclaimed. 

"What was that? You ate some of that stuff?" Baghead's bag nearly fell from his head as he whipped it around. 

"Yeah..." Lance drawled. 

Sai gagged as Baghead explained, "Look, you should probably invest in a mask. It's only $30, which may seem like a lot of money, but I think you can afford it."

The silence lingered on for a bit until Sai broke it, "I need to keep this trunk closed and you need to stay back there." Sai closed the seatback, engulfing Lance in darkness. The vehicle ground to a halt and there were a series of muffled voices. Sai exited the vehicle at one point, only to return to relay something to Baghead. After a moment, the vehicle was in motion again. 

"If there's anyone in the bank, we're taking them too," Sai said matter-of-factly. Lance could barely make out his words as they continued to converse. Eventually the vehicle flipped around and backed up. "We'll keep him in the trunk," Sai said, loud enough to hear. 

The silence afterwards was deafening. Until, "Who the fuck are you sneezing on!" Sai's voice and muffled footsteps. "I swear to Christ if you sneeze on me again I'm going to beat the shit out of you." Some more footsteps, followed by, "Who the fuck you sneezing on, you fucking weirdo?" No response.

Finally, the trunk opened to Sai pointing a pistol at Lance. As Lance's eyes adjusted to the light, Sai said, "We'll get you inside, alright?" He helped Lance out of the trunk and Lance raised his hands in surrender. He still felt wobbly on his feet, but he was able to steady himself after a couple seconds.

A milky haze of ash flew through the air as the bank's doors were opened and Lance was ushered in. It was a Fleeca; a chain of banks found throughout Los Santos, and Lance was the hostage for this particular bank job. This must be what they meant by The Los Santos Experience. The air pulsed with each breath Lance took, the ash travelling in and out of his lungs. Once he reached the interior of the Bank, milky silence.

"The rule is," Sai announced, "You can take a seat. But if a cop comes, you stand up and put your hands up." He watched Lance as he explained and asked with finality, "Understood?" That last word echoed in Lance's head. Understood? uNderStooD? υηÐ∈ℜςΤ⊕Ôп

The eldritch voice was sudden and foreign, beckoning for Lance to strike out. And he did. Lance lunged to the side, striking Sai in the face. Immediately, Sai trained his weapon on Lance's head and yelled, "Do you want to die!?" 

Unable to speak, Lance's mind kept mumbling the same words over and over, No, No, No, No... not again. 

"You sit there," Sai yelled, gun trained on Lance. "And take a fucking mumble pill." A small welt was raising on his right eye and his breathing indicated he was not to be fucked with. 

Baghead came back to the front of the bank again, gun out as he approached Lance. "Ok buddy, yer gunna stand up," he commanded.

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"He fucking hit me," Sai reported to Baghead. "I nearly fucking shot him. He's crazy." 

"He's... you know." Baghead kept the gun trained on Lance and reassured him, "You're doing perfect. Now remember, nothing bad is gunna happen to ya unless the cops come barging in and shooting guns and shit." Baghead bumped the firearm like a nod, "In which case that's not on us. We ain't the bad guys here." 

Lance couldn't comprehend anything they were saying, still trapped in the maze of his own mind and the milky haze of the ashes.

It wasn't until he was addressed directly again that he snapped out of the haze. "What do you want to be doing in this city, Lance?" Baghead asked. "What are your dreams and aspirations?" 

That sounded like a question you would ask a high-schooler as they were graduating. What do you want to do with this life now that you've been let off your leash? Lance never thought about it. He always felt like the leash were ever-present.

Lance didn't have time to answer. The sound of sirens roared to life, signaling the approach of law enforcement. "Well that's definitely a cop," Baghead stated.

The sirens were still far off and Sai had more questions for their hostage. "So what do you like to do. Do you have a hobby or something?" He gestured for Lance to sit down again, the welt on his eye about the size of a knuckle.

Lance felt like he was going to throw up. "I have... a pet rock," he replied. His mind started to go back to the ICU and the whirling of machines and the beeping of their devices. He could still feel the pain from the catheter's exit. His abdomen felt weird and could swear something was in his head.

"Ah well what's your pet rock's name?" Sai enquired, trying to calm the hostage. 

Lance looked up, making eye contact. Sai must have seen something in his eyes, as he took a step back. "I haven't name it," Lance answered.

"Well did you paint it?" Sai pressed, his voice calming but cautious.

"No..." tears bubbled up from Lance's eyes. "It came with eyes."  

"Eyes..." Sai repeated softly. 

"I found him when I bought some dog food," Lance explained. 

This Elementary conversation served to calm the hostage. It kept Lance's mind occupied with the questions rather than the environment around him. It distracted him from the reality of the situation.

By this time Sai was half-outside, uninterested in Lance's story. But he egged him on, "Oh really? That's kind of cute." 

"Yah," Lance piped. "It's... the only thing they eat." A semblance of sanity began to return to Lance's eyes. 

"Wait," Sai stopped. "What does it eat?" 

"Dogfood," Lance answered simply. He was calm now... the voices quiet and the haze lifting. "My rock eats dogfood." 

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