BigSaltyDog

  Bonus Chapter: Operation Groove Sting It was midnight in Miami. The beat was heavy. The bodies were moving. And beneath the laser lights of Club Fantasma , something far more illegal than a bad cha-cha was going down. Interpol intel had flagged the place as a front for La Sombra , a cartel using underground dance battles to smuggle drugs and launder money — hidden in speaker cabinets and tucked inside oversized trophy bases. So of course, HQ sent in the best. Sgt. Salty and Sgt. Zinshed. But not with badges. Not with warrants. With waistcoats, velvet trousers, and deep, sultry lunges. Undercover... in Style Salty entered first — black mesh shirt, gold chains, hair slicked back like the Riviera wind itself had styled it. Zinshed followed, chest exposed, leather pants tighter than the budget at the Miami PD. A woman with neon lipstick grabbed Salty’s arm. “You here to compete, papi?” Salty didn’t break stride. “We’re here to win... and maybe light a few fires along th...

  Bonus Chapter: Neon Nights & Salty Lunges When the crime's been fought and the case closed tight, there's only one place Sgt. Salty and his partner Zinshed head to unwind: Club Lucid , Miami’s most exclusive neon-lit dance haven. You won’t find them nursing beers in dark corners — no, sir. You’ll find them in the centre of the LED-lit dance floor, surrounded by a cheering crowd, turning crime-fighting cool into dance floor fire . The Entrance Every Friday night, the club knows they’re coming. Valets fist-bump. The DJ gives a subtle salute. The crowd parts like the Red Sea — because when Sgt. Salty walks in wearing a pastel suit with no shirt underneath, shades on, and shoes that glimmer under UV light, everyone notices . Zinshed usually follows in a leather vest, tight jeans, and a mullet that could start its own fan club. They don’t wait for the beat to drop. They drop the beat. Signature Moves Salty’s moves are a work of art and confusion — fluid, unpredi...

  Chapter 4: Firearms & Powder A jet engine howled in the distance as Sgt. Salty flicked the ash off his Cuban and stepped onto the tarmac. The call came from Interpol — an old contact in France who owed Zinshed a favour. Word on the street: Anton Kreiger , international arms dealer, had just landed in Miami under the alias Mikhail Rousseau … and he wasn’t alone. The intel? Kreiger was moving two shipments: Modified NATO-grade weapons — retooled for black-market buyers. A lethal new drug cocktail — part meth, part synthetic cocaine, part madness. Street name: “Whiteburn.” Zinshed zipped up his flight jacket. “When they said ‘double trouble’, I didn’t think they meant explosions and overdoses in one shipment .” Salty slipped on his shades. “Let’s make it a round trip. Miami to madness — and back.” The Drop Warehouse 17 was quiet. Too quiet. Situated at the edge of the port district, it looked abandoned — broken lights, rusted signage, graffiti scrawled in thre...

  Chapter 3: Neon Auction The invitation was printed on foil-etched card stock, tucked inside a hollowed-out drone casing. The words shimmered: "A Night of Secrets. Bidding Begins at Midnight." Location: Underground. Literally. Sgt. Salty held the card up to the light, then passed it to Zinshed. “This auction’s not just secret,” he said, “it’s theatrical.” Zinshed sniffed. “Only people who sell illegal biometric data on neon USBs print invitations like wedding vows.” Rico, aka Skate Rat, leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Told you. These people don’t mess around. Last year someone bid 100K in crypto for a hacked Tesla autopilot chip — just to make his dog walk itself.” Salty slipped into his undercover jacket — white, collar popped, sleeves rolled. “Alright, Skate Rat. Time to earn your doughnuts.” The Entry The auction was located beneath a forgotten shopping mall on the edge of Coral Bay. A disused cargo elevator, disguised behind a flickering soda machine, ...

Sgt. Salty & Sgt. Zinshed: Neon Wheels – Chapter 2: The Chase The Jaguar tore through Ocean Drive like a panther in heat. The neon glow of club signs and beachside cafés blurred into streaks of pink, aqua, and gold. The engine snarled with each gear shift, echoing between palm-lined buildings. Tourists turned and stared, their cocktails forgotten. Zinshed gripped the dash. “Remind me again — did we calibrate the speed limiter?” Salty cracked a grin, shifting into fifth. “Limiters are for rookies.” Ahead, Rico “Signal” Diaz weaved through traffic like he was born in cyberspace. His skates glided over pavement with the grace of a ballerina — if ballerinas wore chrome windbreakers and carried encrypted drives strapped to their backs. “We got one shot,” Salty said. “Get close enough and I’ll pin him between us and that sandwich cart.” Zinshed nodded, already pulling out the badge and flashing it through the windscreen. Not that Diaz would notice. The man was in his own world, mu...

  Sgt. Salty & Sgt. Zinshed: Neon Wheels – Chapter 1: The Delivery The Miami heat wasn’t the only thing burning up the tarmac that morning. Sgt. Salty adjusted his aviators with one hand and tugged his linen blazer with the other, casually stepping out of the precinct. His boots hit the pavement with swagger, echoing across the front steps of the Metro Task Force HQ. Next to him, Sgt. Zinshed was already leaning against the wall, sipping a frozen espresso from a cup that definitely didn’t meet regulations. His mullet caught the sun just right — a perfect 1980s halo of trouble. “You ready for this?” Zinshed asked, glancing at his partner. Salty nodded. “Been ready since they signed the papers. Our new ride’s in.” The Supercar The dealership was located in a part of town where chrome reflections glimmered off every window, and the scent of petrol mixed with sea air. They’d been assigned a vehicle upgrade after closing the Montez Cartel case — and let’s just say the Commis...

Chapter 19: A King's Return The fires of war had faded, replaced now by the glow of torches, lanterns, and candlelight. Inside the great hall of Virellia Keep, rebuilt with loving care and magical stone, Sir Salty stood tall — bruised, scarred, victorious. The people hailed him as a hero. A saviour. A king in all but name. But he had eyes only for them — Sarah, Michelle, and Isabella. Queens in their own right. Warriors of fire and steel. Women of passion, power, and loyalty. His Dirty Dozen had thinned in battle, but these three remained by his side — not only as allies, but as something deeper. As the revelry calmed, the crowd parted. Sarah stepped forward first, her red curls spilling over her silk gown, eyes smouldering. “We’ve waited long enough,” she purred. --- The Queen’s Chambers Inside Sarah’s royal chambers, the cold stone of the tower was warmed by firelight and velvet. Music drifted from below — but here, there was only breath, heat, and skin. Salty kissed her first. D...

Chapter 18: Blood on the Walls Smoke and ash drifted like snow across the scorched battlefield. The once-proud citadel of Virellia, with its marble towers and proud banners, now bore the scars of war — arrow-pocked walls, shattered gates, blood-soaked courtyards. Inside, the final stand was underway. The Orcs, Goblins, and surviving Chios demons, driven by hatred and dark promises, surged into the broken keep. Their war cries echoed off stone as they charged through breach after breach. But they were met by steel, fire, and fury. --- The Dirty Dozen’s Last Defence Isabella crouched high above the battlements, loosing bolt after bolt into incoming goblins on wolfback. Every shot found a target. She didn’t smile — her face was steel. Her sister-in-arms, Tanya the Flame Witch, stood at the gates below, unleashing gouts of magical fire, igniting ogres mid-charge. “Hold the line!” shouted Queen Sarah, swinging her warhammer with a grunt, sending a goblin flying. Beside her, Michelle impaled...

  Chapter 17: The Sky Cracks Again The roar of the Vraemorr’s death had barely faded when a new sound split the heavens — a low, keening shriek like reality itself being torn in half. The sky cracked open . From the rift above, tendrils of chaotic light reached downward, painting the battlefield in hues of madness. Thunder cracked not from clouds, but from the sky itself. Time seemed to slow. The stars blinked and shifted in patterns no man could read. “This isn’t over,” whispered Queen Michelle, gripping her warhammer. “The real battle’s only just begun,” said Sarah grimly. 🧙‍♂️ Wizards Enter the Fray From the north hills, emerging through golden portals of light, came the Order of the Binding Flame — human wizards , old and young, clad in robes embroidered with celestial runes. Their leader, Archwizard Caelorin , descended on a disk of wind. “Sir Salty,” Caelorin said with a nod. “We are late — but not too late.” Behind him, dozens of spellcasters took position,...

  Chapter 16: The Day of Reckoning The drums of war thundered louder than any storm. From the cliffs of Blackridge Castle to the scorched ruins of the surrounding plains, the fate of the world now rested on steel, spellfire… and vengeance. Smoke hung like a curtain over the battlefield. Through it marched two colossal forces: on one side, the united armies of Virellia, led by Sir Salty , the Dirty Dozen, Queens Sarah and Michelle, and the last defenders of the realm. On the other, a tide of darkness: Orcs , Goblins , Chios demons , and at its centre, the summoned monstrosity — The Vraemorr . The world itself seemed to shudder. 💣 The Cannon Unleashed Atop the eastern tower, the Grand Artillerist lit the fuse of the newest cannon: “Wrath of Maeve.” It had been reforged with spellsteel and blessed powders overnight by Salty's mages. Its new payload? Shatter-bombs —charged with sacred fire and ground brimstone, designed specifically to crack demonic armour. “Ready...” “Aim...

  Chapter 15: The Final Summoning The dawn mist clung to the valley like a dying breath. Above the charred plains, the last horns of the Orcish horde echoed as shadows circled ominously in the sky. The battlefield lay quiet, almost reverent… until the ritual began. Far beyond the ruined outer walls, in a blasted crater ringed with bones and burnt trees, the Chios Demons began their Final Summoning . Ancient words, black as midnight and hot as brimstone, spiralled upward in twisting tongues of flame. Blood was poured into the earth — thousands of gallons. The skies darkened unnaturally, and a storm churned, fed by pain, hatred… and power. 💔 Queen Maeve’s Last Stand Meanwhile, atop the inner tower wall, Queen Maeve , Sir Salty’s first and fiercest love, surveyed the carnage. Regal in her crimson cloak, her beauty shone even in soot and shadow. Her longbow shimmered with runes , a gift from Salty in gentler days. Beside her, Salty fought below in the courtyard. They locked eye...

  Chapter 14: Storming the Castle Smoke billowed from the torn earth as Salty’s battered forces fell back to Blackridge Castle , its towering stone walls the last true defence before the heart of Virellia. The battle outside had left thousands dead. But the real slaughter… was just beginning. “Close the gates!” cried Sir Salty, his voice hoarse from shouting orders. “Archers! To the ramparts! They’re coming for our throats!” Thunder cracked , not from the sky but from below — as Ogre sappers detonated war-bombs under the outer wall. A corner turret fell in a roar of stone and flame. Salty coughed through the dust, armour blackened, cape torn, his great axe dripping green blood. The Orc Warlords , now within sight of the keep, howled their fury. On wolfback, Goblins charged like lightning , flinging fire pots and howling death songs. Behind them, the Chios Demons began their final incantations , swirling red and black magic twisting the skies above. 🏹 Archers Earn Their G...

  Chapter 13: Let Battle Commence “Sound the horns. Raise the flags. Let the heavens bear witness: this day, we drown the world in war.” The battlefield stretched for miles — a broken, jagged scar beneath a slate-grey sky. Smoke curled thick through the air , stinging eyes and cloaking shapes in shadow. The scent of blood, ash, and burning oil rode on the wind like a song of death. The Adderlin — that war-powder of champions — rushed through the veins of Salty’s warriors, sharpening senses to the edge of madness. From atop his war-steed, Sir Salty looked over the field. Armour etched in gold and scarlet, his great battle axe shimmered with runes freshly awakened. At his sides, rode Queens Sarah and Michelle , draped in cloaks of midnight silk, their busty figures proud beneath gilded plate. Behind them marched the armies of Virellia : pike-men, lancers, crossbow units, and the thunderous line of cannon and mortars . And leading the vanguard, like twin stars before the storm...

  Chapter 12: The Engines of War  The drums of war thundered louder than any storm—this was the reckoning the dark lords had prepared for… The valley of Blackmaw Ridge churned with fire and iron. The Horde had gathered—Orcs, Goblins, Ogres, and the unholy Chios demons. Above all, something darker stirred… For the enemy had evolved. ⚔️ Dark Reflections of the Dirty Dozen Whispers spread among the war-camps: new champions had emerged from the pits of torment, creatures shaped by blood magic to counter Sir Salty’s elite women warriors . Each of these twisted foes was created to reflect the powers and style of one of Salty’s Dirty Dozen: Isabella , the sniper with divine aim, now faced a Chios demoness called Naxxira , who could fire bolts of shadow faster than any mortal eye could follow. Her arrows sapped the will to fight. Sierra the flame-witch , mistress of fire magic, would battle Morgak the Ash-Eater , an Orc shaman who wore a crown of embered bone and spat b...