Hello and welcome to Amenity Units. For three hundred years, we have specialized in replacing life as you know it.
From factory made organs using the tissues of altered fetuses, to breasts and limbs made to be perfect.
We’ve established a legacy here. You can….defeat death.
Humans clung to this for ages, not realizing what they were truly trading in. Most were still able to use their sexual organs, but all offspring came with an offering of that curse.
A virus as simple as death itself could not be cured. And for that reason, countless men with boundless wealth set their sights on finding Adrianna.
Mayor Redden had…keeping under the scope. An army based man of many means, and few sentiments worth common sense. He was sure once he had her, that would end his misery.
A man who’s survived death as many times as Redden needed to be put down. And the right angel did the job.
Once Redden established Governor’s Crest, he needed a militia of sorts. Some of the angels considered him a god, since he was the oldest living Synthie. And so a treaty was signed.
“I feed you, and you keep the people afraid.”
The lines were never blurred until Brandon’s rebirth from evil. When he decided the nations could rest, without him storming in and demanding lives. Redden loves his natural taste for desecration, and like any powered crazed man, he sought to control Brandon.
War and death gave Brandon many reasons to open his eyes. He had been created to take siege of one’s hope. With this, he never imagined he’d kill a child.
Nor had he. Often when families got in the way of his dirty work, he would send the children off. Sparing them the terrors and screams of their parents dying by his hand.
More so Redden’s hand. If anyone had something to say, Brandon would get it done.
Then a friend was situated to be annihilated. Most assassins and murderers don’t read the details in the file. Brandon pushed it back over to Redden, and stood to leave.
He walked down the crooked corridors of the poorest part of town. Looking at the numbers above the apartments, scowling at anyone staring his way.
Like a nightmare, his heart jumped to the sight of those familiar numbers.
Twenty-seven. The place where The Baron of the East stayed. His much esteemed friend. His confidant. The only person he trusted.
An aching distortion came about Brandon. Confusion mustered from his lips as he uttered an almost inaudible “no.” His left hand had finally caught the right.
The Baron stepped outside, noting Brandon’s shadow dancing along his window. He smiled at his friend, unsure of his actions.
The angel immediately took off in flight, without a word, and most definitely trying hard to hide his expression.
The Baron was the last remaining scientist that refused hope to the mayor. And since he refused to resume his position during the last ten years, Redden wanted him gone.
Once a true contributor of innovation, now the Baron wanted nothing to do with the selfishness of a man who smeared the word of progression.
Self lit obligation to live wasn’t enough for him. And science failed the community of Synthies- rust was their enemy more so than time.
If you could afford to swap out your old parts for new ones…you were lucky. So must lived with the tang of aging metal, and decaying skin. Protocol units were now the big deal. Big business got the best of Amenity Units. So the unfortunate toiled with rusting parts.
Until their last artificial breath.
That wasn’t the main issue. Scientists also gathered helpful components to “charge” or alter death yet again. While some had a deadline, others could be brought back to life. Charging their artificial hearts, and bringing air and circulation to the brain. Some walked around with bits of mutated bone fragments in order to produce their own blood.
Some where simply unrealistic through and through.
Adrianna hadn’t been to Briggsville in sixteen years
The truth often beckons rebellion.
© 2013 by J.C.S. All rights reserved.