Imagine life as a dull, monotonous, depressingly gray piece of paper. Now, imagine a minuscule fleck of color on it, normally unnoticeable. More flecks are appearing, still small, but steadily growing. The dots form in minute clusters, none bigger than a quarter centimeter. Pretend that those dots are fighters, rebelling against an oppressive, misleading, and all-consuming force. That same force is deceiving people, stealing their emotions and will. Better Living Industries, BL/ind, is taking their ability to act, think, (I) survive as individuals. With a few little pills. That's all they need.
And what about those little flecks? Those little flecks are people. Lively, independent, free-thinking people who refuse to have their originality taken away.
Killjoys: marketed as scandalous, trouble-makers launching guerrilla attacks on the City that protects innocent people. The easily-controlled, mass produced populace believes this. But really, it is not their fault. They didn't-don't- know the pills were bad for them. They didn't question it, but trusted the beuarocracy that was supposed to look out for them. No. Those power-starved, greedy dictators exploited the people, used them to benefit themselves. And that is exactly the reason why I fight them. I refuse to let freedom die at the hands of ambitious tyrants who would destroy this world to get what they want. They have actually.
Years were spent mutating fire so that only a mutated form of water could put it out. When that was perfected, they unleashed it on an helpless, unsuspecting world. Oh, there were plans put in place and executed so it looked like an accident. And no matter how they were fought, the Fires of 2012 raged. Those Fires devastated North America. I don't know how they other continents fared, if they even survived, but North America is just a barren desert now.
My home. That same harsh, unforgiving desert is my home now. I live on the run, from shack to shanty, pilfering what I can. It's not an easy life by any means, but it's the one I choose. I'd rather be living on the brink, making trouble, making memories, than letting them control me. Who is "them", exactly? The leaders of BL/ind, specifically Korse. He is the driving force of BL/ind, a ruthless, merciless, power-hungry bastard willing to do anything to be the supreme ruler. Mass murders, torture, experimenting on humans, killing toddlers, are only some of the atrocities he's committed. The saddest part is, he isn't the slightest bit bothered by it. He takes joy in causing others pain. He has monsters, assassins, minions, to do most of his dirty work for him. He calls the "Draculoids" or "Dracs". Out wandering the desert, it is inevitable that one will get in a firefight with a Drac. Or two. Or eight. For safety, Kayjays almost always travel in pairs or groups. These groups don't number above 8, except for rare cases. Of course, it's always nice to have friends out there too. My group passed the point of "best friends" years ago. We are a family. And this is our story.
So, this is the intro of my unwritten D-Days fan fic. It's a work in progress, and may never see the light of day, but I'm quite proud of this, so I posted it. I'm working on creative/descriptive writing, and if anyone has an idea for something, let me know! I'd love to write about it! It can be anything really. From a goldfish's point of view, to someone caught in a riot. The possibilities are endless!! So leave me a comment or a message.
