Zeke went home thinking deeply about his life. On his way, he took in the deep, congested fragrance of the city that had all but swallowed him whole. The loud hum of pipes pumping contaminated air, circulating it from building to building. The busy roads cluttered by endlessly roaring vehicles. The senseless, empty chattering of people he will most likely never see again. The threat of violence coming from all directions.
“Contractors are a blight,” Zeke thought to himself while looking down at the city through the window of the monorail.
He alone could see it, the senseless violence poisoning the city, nudged in between tiny alleyways, busy streets, and sidewalks. Appearing both within the shadows and in front of everyone’s eyes. Evil that had been born from the disparity in power between both humans and contractors themselves. He alone was opposed to it, as everyone else had already taken to this new way of life. He alone was not willing to accept it, for it had harmed him more than anyone else.
The death of his father, or rather his disappearance, Zeke was certain, it had been the work of a contractor. If only his father was able to become one, maybe then he could have survived. His mother’s passing, if only Zeke was able to become a contractor maybe he could have prevented her death. And even if it was much too late for both of these things, “This time for sure,” Zeke thought to himself, “I cannot let this chance pass. I will become a contractor.”
Zeke returned home. A small one-bedroom apartment on the 74th floor of the mega-building 17 of Winston alley. There were a few things that Winston alley was known for: drugs and crime. It was a neighborhood designed for humans to reside in, yet it was managed by contractors. Gangs were a huge problem in the neighborhood. They too were managed by contractors. Real estate was scarce within the city. Even within Winston alley, most of the real estate was rented to humans and owned by contractors. The world, too, is said to be designed for humans and ruled by contractors.
Zeke’s living quarters were dirty and ill-maintained. The walls were covered in a thick layer of grease. The floor had newspapers and posters chaotically scattered across it, covered by a thick layer of grime and dirt. The only remotely tidy area was the desk, and even it had stacks of various books piled up on and next to it. The kitchen permeated with rot coming from the stack of uncleaned dishes haphazardly thrown around in the sink.
Zeke walked into his home, taking 3 steps towards the couch, and passed out onto it without warning or worry. In his dreams, he felt liberated from the worries of the outside world. Sadly, his dreams did not last. Reality proved to be far crueler.
After waking up, Zeke took a cold shower. The piercing water dripped down his body, engulfing it in a cold, shocking pain. His muscles began to convulse from the cold. However, his breath was fine, calm, composed, and rhythmical. He looked at his shoulder, towards the place where his previous injury was located, grasping and squeezing it with his hand. He felt no pain, only a sting brought forth by the water touching his skin.
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When he climbed out of the shower, he looked at himself in the mirror. His gray eyes met their reflection, filling his heart with a deep sense of resolve. “I need to do this. I must do this. I will do this,” he thought to himself.
Zeke put on his clothes, a black hoodie, sweatpants, and sneakers, covered his face with a medical mask, and left his house to the appointed location.
The central monorail station was a grand Greco-Roman style structure, malformed by its modern roots. Every aspect of the building was constructed out of reinforced concrete. The exterior was beautiful and taken care of, a shameless facade placed upon a void interior comprising hollow catwalks and bland empty walls positioned haphazardly with seemingly no rhyme nor reason. A blatant attempt of imitating and pandering to the nostalgia of the times before the cataclysm.
Zeke went inside. A bitter dampness clouded the air. A stench of sweat, smoke, and dried piss with a hint of alcohol could be felt by everyone inside. No one, apart from Zeke, seemed to mind. Zeke avoided taking deep breaths and proceeded deeper inside.
He paid close attention to his surroundings, crowds of people coming in and out of the building. None appeared to be out of the ordinary, other than two strange figures, whose movements, demeanor, and composure appeared to differ from the rest. A young blue-haired woman and a tall bald African man in his late forties, carrying a small urn on his side.
Zeke stood alone, briefly glancing over towards the other two, who, much like him, stood motionless in a hectic sea of moving people.
He stared intensely at the girl. She was fairly tall, appearing to be about the same height as Zeke. Her somewhat-ragged baggy clothes failed to hide her well-developed, muscular physique. Her face was rather pale, heart-shaped, adorned by freckles. Her eyebrows were dyed in a different shade of blue from her hair, making her outward appearance odd at first glance. Their eyes met briefly, and she approached him.
“Why are you staring at me?” she asked in an inquisitive tone, making Zeke fall into a rabbit hole of anxiety and nervousness.
“I’m not,” he said as he turned his gaze away from her in an unnatural manner.
“Stop lying, creepzo!” she shouted. “How dare a timid piece of shit like you bare his eyes on a fair lady such as me,” she continued, showing great frustration.
Zeke stood silently, looking at the ground.
“Hey! I’m talking to you here, you creepy little shit!” she suddenly raised her hand to slap Zeke.
Zeke, however, instinctually shifted his head away from the hit, having noticed the change in her shadow that was being projected thanks to the bright overhead lights directed onto the ground in front of him.
“Cut it out, Elaine!” the tall man shouted from afar as he began to approach the two, accompanied by the mysterious figure from the other day.
“Ah, I see you two’ve already met! This beside me is Ulmak,” the figure retorted, “Now! Shall we go win this thing?” he asked, grabbing Zeke by the shoulder.
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