Every day for the last week, BioZone had disappeared someone I knew from the streets. I should have left before they came for me. But no one ever thinks they're next.
I woke up to gunshots and a woman screaming. Another morning under the expressway.
I unzipped my tent as an armored BioZone truck skidded to a stop on the street, a skull with a combat knife in its teeth painted on the side. The back doors swung open and a half dozen goons in black riot gear jumped out, firing weapons in the air.
A guard grabbed Raggedy Renee and she screamed as he dragged her to the truck.
I reached for my lucky baseball bat to fight off the guards, and Kane grabbed me, my half-crazy, half-brother. Bloodshot eyes, long black hair, a tattoo sleeve of dice and dragons. "Let's fight these fascists!" he shouted.
I grinned, and we ran at the guards dragging our homeless tribe into the truck. One of them stepped toward Kane, and zapped him with a taser. Kane dropped to the ground, hard, convulsing.
"Got some croc food here!" laughed the guard.
That wasn't gonna fly. The only person that got to hit Kane was me. I tackled the guard that had dropped Kane, throwing my weight at his legs. He banged his head on the concrete and made a sick, groaning sound.
"You stopped at the wrong street, Nazi!" I yelled.
Before I could stand back up, I was pushed to the concrete, held down, and something was injected into my neck.
And let's all give Will Wayman a big welcome to BioZone City!
You are entrant number ... 10,000?! You get a [yet to be determined] prize!
A kick from a steel-toed boot hit me in the ribs, and I felt something break.
Based on your record for violence, you're getting a weapon!
Determining Stats!
Assessing CHA.
CHA is 1!
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"No way! I'm a chick magnet!"
Kane screamed. The same scream as the night we lost mom and had to sleep in our abandoned station wagon alone. I looked around to find him, saw a guard pistol-whipping a passed out wino. Another wall of text blinded me. I closed my eyes, but the text didn't fade. A guard grabbed me by my arms and dragged me across the pavement.
Assessing DEX.
Possible nerve damage from Z use.
DEX is 7 (barely)!
"Hey, not so bad!"
Nah, that's bad.
Assessing INT.
Street smart,
kinda
.
Brain damage from Z use.
INT is 2!
"Brain damage? I'm not brain damaged, am I?"
I didn't get an answer.
As a guard dragged my slack body to the truck, I tried to move my arms but still had no feeling in them.
Completing scan.
CON is 3!
STR is 5!
Total dumpster fire!
I needed a reroll or I'd be dead by nightfall. My free hand stopped shaking, and I grabbed the guard's holstered gun. "Die, BioZone scum!" I squeezed off three rounds at close range and they all missed.
"Idiot," said the guard.
I fired again and dropped him. "Find Kane. Kill guards. Get out." I loped to the driver's side of the BioZone truck, one leg still dragging, and knocked on the door. The driver opened it, saw me, and tried to shut the door. Two shots made a mess of him.
Determining play style.
You're a stone-cold murderer!
"Not usually!" I said.
Plus you're vindictive. That's more than enough material to work with.
I pulled the slumped body out of the cab and was climbing into the truck when hands grabbed at my arms and pulled me down to the street. I twisted away, grinned at the sight of two big guards, and pulled the trigger.
Click. I stared at gun, willing it to have one more round. Click. The cartridge and my luck had run out.
Determining personality.
The guards lunged at me.
The sample size is not ideal, but you're not all that likeable, what, with all the drugs and the murdering? I'm crunching the numbers, but, wow, your prize is gonna be super weird.
Kane screamed again as shots were fired. The same screams mom and I heard the night we found him and he called and called for his mom, a mom that would never come back. I threw the empty gun at a guard and the other jabbed a sparking baton in my stomach. A seismic wave of pain shot off in my insides, and I collapsed. Though I was shouting at myself to move, I couldn't even roll over.
Someone grabbed my arms and dragged me to the van. I didn't have the strength to resist.
Your prize
is a hunting knife! And there's no getting rid of it!
Toning power by inserting soul of insane soldier into blade.
Determining strength of trapped soul ...
I was lifted, and then tossed roughly into the truck. A guard bent down and injected me again. My eyes grew heavy as the inside of the van and all the people inside looked like they were melting. Z-fueled nightmares were more pleasant than this.
Weapon is complete.
Bonding weapon ...
Bonding complete.
KEEL: Find someone. Hunt them.
I blacked out to the sound of insane laughter, and it wasn't mine.