Scrapmetal (on hold)

Chapter 1

But I suppose to tell a good story it makes most sense to begin at the beginning. And this story begins with an underdog with out a name whose destiny would save my own.

Clang, clang, clang. That racket was not the thing keeping me awake, oddly enough it wasn't my nerves either. It was the feeling at the back of my neck like thousands of tiny needles just barely brushing the surface of my skin. I was being watched, by whom I didn't know but if it was a fellow initiate or a scrap piece I was clueless on whom to be more scared of. But that decision was about to become very clear as I spotted a small flicker of light, a spark igniting not far in front of me. I was desperate for heat and light in this chilled room and it didn't help that I couldn't see my own hand in front of my face because of the darkness, it lay like a thick blanket over this crowded room. I inched closer, but unbeknownst to me I should have been more afraid of the initiates....actually scratch that one initiate in particular with fiery pigtails. Piston. Rumors were spreading about her like a wild fire which made sense because she had a name. I don't have a name yet usually its hey you or yo kid, even though my given name is 0106574. That's right, on my birth certificate and everything. But when you're born in Luxury you really have to be worth your weight in gold or else-

"Starin' at something little boy?" If wasn't looking in her direction I would've thought Piston's voice was a snake's hiss I took it as a threat hidden beneath her venomous words. And that threat was very clear. I would die tomorrow at evaluation. By her hand. Here in Scrapheap you must never be afraid, or in my case never show it. But I was a bad actor and an enemy was the last thing I needed. I was not scared, I was not scared,

"Some idiot with a lighter, what happens when we get caught huh?" I was terrified. My voice wasn't as gruff as I had hoped and it faltered when I got nervous. She spotted that as her move to strike. She chuckled maliciously and I shuddered. That little spark that was flicking atop her lighter was now ablaze and I could see her features, that of a serpent's. Her eyes had an evil green glint that craved for my blood. That made my stomach turn. She had freckles peppered across her nose but they were shaded under a nasty looking burn on her left cheek trailing up to her ear, which was also badly scarred. She caught me staring and my eyes quickly darted to the other direction. That made her smile and she had a gap in between her two front teeth, probably where her forked tongue was supposed to come out of. She cackled once more and lit a cigarette. This the only time I saw her features soften, only for a small flash of a moment as she closed her lighter and doused its flame I felt the smoke hot against my face and I choked down a cough. My eyes were watering so I couldn't see the cigarette's smoldering tip being tossed through the air until it landed on my cheek right at the corner of my right eye. The pain was excruciating but I couldn't show her that and I couldn't show it to the judges tomorrow either I'd make sure of that.

The morning seemed to start with a bang, literally.

"wakie wakie, deadbolt," I heard that intimidating chuckle in my dreams now it slapped me in the face and forced me awake in a jolt. my left eye flung open in shock but my right eye burned and stung like hell, it wouldn't open. "hows the eye?" she said, flicking the plump surface of my eyelid. I winced at the pain and sneered in what I thought was her direction, but she was gone. And so was everyone else.

"I'd get movin' if I were you kid," I turned to look at whoever just spoke, I hoped it wouldn't be another enemy, they had a very gruff voice and when I turned around his features matched his tough voice to a T. He was a giant mass of muscle, and apparently mullet. Yes I said mullet a fluffed up orange mess that exaggerated the size of his head. Which was huge by the way, shaped like a bowling ball with a nose that looked like it was flattened with a hammer it took up most of his face except his deep brown eyes which were analyzing everything about me. "never seen you 'round here before but I like 'ya making enemies the first night sheesh kid you got nerves....my kinda guy I'll be rooting for 'ya on the podium,"

"you're a scrap piece," I said.

" Name's Brass knuckles, you're looking at the head of all war and security here at the junk yard," he said, with a wink and a thumbs up, making his spiked, brass biker gloves glint in the sunlight leaking through the roof towering a mile above us.

"junk yard?"

"oops sorry guess you don't know what that means yet, that's what you're here for, the junk yard is where all mechanics, war heads, and any other metal brains that are useful end up,"

"useful for what?"

"haven't you heard?" I shook my head in response.

" bringing luxury to an end,"