»•~—~•~—~•«»•~—~•~—~•« .b.r.e.a.k.i.n.g.p.o.i.n.t. »•~—~•~—~•«»•~—~•~—~•« -- »•~—~•«»•~—~•« p.r.o.l.o.g.u.e »•~—~•«»•~—~•« -- 'the apocalypse has come' -- "Mutations were a common thing in a post-apocalyptic world. They roamed the streets and crawled on the ground with broken limbs. They were either failures from our scientists that were cast out into the wild, or the infected that searched for prey. As for our scientists, survivors usually turned to science for a cure for the infected, or for answers.' It is the year 2036. You wake up groggily from the sleeping pills the doctors have forced you to swallow. The past is blank, everything seems faded and unreal. You're distant from reality, a side-effect of the chemical the scientists have injected into you. The only thing you know is that you're an worthless test subject, and the only significance you bear is for the self-proclaimed 'greater good'. The thought makes you frustrated and you subconsciously bang on the glass tube you're encased in. Alert, the scientists swarm around you and look at you in awe. You look down on your hand and frown as there are metal tubes connecting to your palm, wrist, and arm. You feel metal spikes protruding from your back and suddenly, you are in pain. The world flashes red and you try to clutch at something to feel less vulnerable, but it is of no use. You can't breathe, either. Not because of the fact the test tube is filled with water, but because the pain is too much for you to handle. Wounds open from your body and you stop yourself from screaming. Blood is coming up and mixing with the water. Your blood. You notice that it is not red like it should be, but a murky black, like ink. The pungent smell of it makes you scratch at yourself. The scientists around you panic and one of them presses an emergency button. You then succumb to your injuries, and to welcomed sleep. 'God is not an option, as people have lost hope in Him as time begun to pass. Few stay religious, and those few have locked themselves up in solitude. As a result, the word 'God' is unfamiliar to the new generation. People die, and humanity has become a near-extinct species. Some wild animals such as tigers and elephants no longer exist. Domestic animals are severely endangered, and the only ones left have either become training companions or victims of cruel, inhumane testing by the scientists. There are no more grassy fields, or healthy trees. Mother Nature has served her time. Eternal rest is something she wants the most, now.' There is no hope for humanity. You can hide, and you can run. You can either be of worth, or discarded like a failure. You can make a choice, to sink into a living hell and be deprived of sanity, or rise up from the depths of hell and reach up to God. The choice is yours. -- Sorry for the short introduction! Dx I'll update later today.
Wow. That was amazing. I love the description, and where the story is headed, it sounds intriguing. Bump!
Fascinating. A futuristic story always grabs my attention. Your writing is marvelous, the details are just enough for me to picture this all happening. What really gets me is the point of view.
I'm not going to stick with this POV forever. I might switch, but I want to go through the entire prologue (around two more updates after this) using this POV. I like to change my style every now and then, so I apologize if it confuses you. This has slight romance, mainly drama and some other shitty genre I forgot about. -- »•~—~•~—~•«»•~—~•~—~• b.r.e.a.k.i.n.g.p.o.i.n.t »•~—~•~—~•«»•~—~•~—~•« -- »•~—~•~—~•«»•~—~•~—~•« p.r.o.l.o.g.u.e.p.a.r.t.t.w.o »•~—~•~—~•«»•~—~•~—~•« -- "R-X56..." Vincent's head peeked out of the torn curtains. You stare at him with brooding eyes and continued to stir your cup of coffee. You don't want to deal with some more widespread speculation from the main base, but because of Vincent's occupation as a scientist, you have no choice but to listen to his rambling. "Hey, Zoë. Guess what?" You raise an eyebrow just to humor him. You don't even look at him, just at the brown, murky liquid inside your mug. You take a delicate sip. Of course, it's bitter. Vincent doesn't notice and continues to babble, and just for the hell of it you listen to some of it. "They've found an antidote." -- 'Mutations are separated into different categories. Infected, Failures, and the Unknown. The Infected should be avoided at all costs, as they have the ability to change you into a lower form of themselves. Failures, however, are neutral. Provoking them would give you several near-fatal injuries. Best to stay away. As for the Unknown, it is undecided, whether or not they are harmful or neutral. Speculation says that they were Mother Nature's last gift to us before her tearful departure, some say they were a curse, a show of God's wrath. They are rare to see, and rumors say that if you meet one, you would wake up with complete loss of your memories, and in a landscape 'completely different from what we see today'.' You drop your mug onto the ground. The scalding hot liquid burns your legs, but you are oblivious to that. All you're focused on is the excitement etched onto Vincent's face, and the wooden cross on the wall behind him. For a moment, you are stunned, but that moment is quickly replaced with a flash of rage and anger. "What." "I just tol-" "This isn't a question, fuckface. I'm demanding to know what the fuck is going on." Your voice is booming, and unfortunately for you, the walls aren't soundproof and you hear an agitated Fey kicking the wall from next door, but you don't care. You couldn't care less. "It's a chemical with supposed magical properties that should be used on the Infected..." "I'm not an idiot, Vincent. I'm curious as to know WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS WRONG WITH YOUR GROUP OF PANSY ASS SCIENTISTS?! You've got tubes shoved up your ass 24/7, your main mission is to find a suitable planet or place on Earth for a new life, and you, you and your group of stupid ass self-proclaimed geniuses give me shit about saving the damned?!" You take in a deep breath, and breathe. Breathe... "You're not the leader anymore, Zoë," His voice starts out quiet and calm. "SO DON'T FUCKING TELL ME WHAT TO GODDAMN DO!" You slam your broken coffee mug onto the table. The remainings of the cup shatter and the shards of porcelain fly around the room. Your grip on the handle is extremely tight... A near death-grip, actually. You grind your teeth in rage. "Just because you're Vernon's little brother doesn't mean shit, Vincent. Fuck the hell off... AND KNOW YOUR FUCKING PLACE." Vincent's cerulean eyes flash a violent shade of blue, and he storms out of the base in a huff. The door slams and the wooden paintings and portraits on the wall shake. The most noticeable one is a portrait of baby Jesus, and you're tempted to pray. But you shake the thought away and sulk back into your room, and lock it. You lock the door and lock yourself back into solitude. -- You wake up to frantic steps and frustrated shouts amongst the scientists. You blink your eyes and touch the glass you're encased in, and let out a sad sigh. You're not capable of emotions, but you forget that and imitate the actions of the humans in front of you. They're panicking and running around, and you spot that red emergency button that a scientist pressed a quite a lot of hours ago. You know from experience it releases a chemical gas that paralyzes you for a moment and then puts you to sleep. It gives you a dreadful headache when you wake up. It really does. You hunch your back and let your head rest on the glass. You look down onto your body. You can't tell what color your skin is, due to the strange, acidic green and yellow liquid you're floating in, but you can tell that it's a shade of contaminated and pale white. You analyze your situation in a methodical and precise way. You have been given the miraculous ability called 'sight'. You have been re-educated. You have gone through multiple surgeries, half of which tampered with your internal organs, blood vessels, and brain. You are called EF6A, short for Experiment Fusion 6, Arcadia. You crave for extreme bloodshed. You are not human. -- Short update.
Chloe-sama! This. Is. Amazing. Flawless. I love the way you're able to rock that P.O.V. and I love how The character is snarky and sarcastic badass. The description is perfect and the wording precise. Update!
I burst out laughing when I read 'some other shitty genre I forgot about' XD hee hee! I'm still cackling madly. Goldia. I know Ive said it but moi will say it again! YOU'RE AWESOME!