So sorry about how this first chapter went, because I needed to pack a lot of information in to explain, or else future chapters wouldn't make sense. I also apologize how slow it might be, but it will pick up in a few chapters. Hope you enjoy though. Chapter One "Don't worry, Mr. Jones, you'll be in good hands." Hate it when people say that. Always makes me feel like the worst possible thing could happen that next moment, and if not, every moment after that one. Some people say I have trust issues. I say I'm just good at knowing when things will turn out badly. The name's Tom Jones. I work as a detective for the NCPD. Stands for the New California Police Department. What happened to the old California? Let's just say anarchy can make a place much less beautiful. The year is 2105, and before you get excited, there isn't any hovercars, or any high-tech stuff that everyone dreamed about years in the past. Other than what is being put into everyone today, of course. High tech nanochips, inserted into everyone's brain to increase their brain's potential. Or so they say, of course. In my opinion? Another way to track and spy on us, except this time by using our own brain. Hello? President? 1984 called, and they want their Thought Police back. Anyway, here I am, it's now my turn, and the lady says I'm in good hands. I'd be in good hands if this was brain surgery and there wasn't a chip being implanted inside my head. All this because the big guy says so. Want my honest opinion? This is his punishment on us for what happened with the anarchy. I don't care what people say though. Anarchy was well deserved. I would've joined in, had it not risked me losing my job. The president knew it was happening though. He took out all who wasn't involved, and bombed the place. And no one outside the country even knows. That's the kind of fear the president has on everyone. The United States has become Hell for everyone living here. No. Not living here. Fearing here. No one lives here now, only forced here. "Now Mr. Jones, you will undergo the process once the anesthetic sets in, ok?" I nod my head, already feeling the effects. Now some of you may ask, why don't I just escape if I feel this way and serve the president's ways? Because, my friend, one does not escape from the United States of Abomination.
Can I get this locked? Been trying to think of how I'll write it, but can't. I'm not political enough, especially since I'm Canadian, not American lol.