Modified Snippet Time

A little snippet from my upcoming book Modified. The first in a new series (Cyber Chronicles), a cyberpunk romance story.

After work, I walked back to my place drained and ready to give up. I just didn’t’ see the point of continuing to work. Continuing to get paid so little that I couldn’t eat or live in a place that wasn’t filled with rodents and insects.

I rounded the corner that took me towards my place. Off to the left is the shining hope that I have. The elevator that leads to the next level. For a brief moment, I contemplate actually trying to go to it and get to the next level.

For a second I actually took a step to it but stopped when I heard a commotion ahead of me. A group of people forward a circle and were cheering on.

“Ahh!” I heard a person scream.

They were beating a person up. For once I wanted to see a Security Force member, but none were in sight. Of course, they would be, never when once was actually needed.

Running to the group, I skirt the edge to see what is going on. Being so short I couldn’t see a thing. I push my way through the group of people. In the center was a man that I had never seen before. He was kneeling on his knees, and his face was bruised. He bled from it. One of his arms had been replaced, and perhaps more.

It was tough to say for sure, having not really seen too many of the people that had stuff one to them to make them better. To improve themselves.

“You don’t belong here,” a person said.

The man gulped. Beneath the fresh bruises was a chiseled face, one that might be cute if not for the blood. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. It was tough to make out. It was clear he was terrified. That he didn’t belong.

“Why are you here?” Another asked.

“A dare,” the man managed to get out.

One of the people kicked him from behind. The man screamed in agony. That hurt him more than I thought. Growing up, the mods were considered to be immune to pain. That wasn’t the case.

“Stop,” I blurt out.

I had made it to the center of the circle and helped the man back up to his knees. The kick had left him on all fours.

“Why should we?”

“He’s a person,” I said.

“No, he’s not. Look at him. He’s got mods.”

It was true, but that didn’t make him not a person. He was, and so was I. Just from different places in life. “He a man. Nothing more.”

“We are freaks to him. Just something to stare at.”

He said it was a dare and that broke my heart. That one of the upper-level people did think so, and he agreed to it. But that doesn’t mean we have to live up to his expectation. We are better than that.

“It doesn’t matter. We are people. He is.”

A set of arms grab me and toss me to the ground. “You defend him. Then you can take his place. You are worse than him. Defending this modified scum.”

I smash on the ground. It’s cold and hard. The filth of it smears itself on me. I cringe at the stench of it. The beating was slow at first. One kick to the back and taunts me.

“it’s your fault mod.”

I looked up at the guy. He stares at me and mouths, I’m sorry. It hurts, but not too much. I did my best to deal with it. Another kick comes, in the rips. I hold back the tears that want to come. The kicking and punching increases.

Blood flows from me. Every pore of my body aches. I scream in agony. It hurts much. The pain consumes me, overwhelms me. The world around me blackens, and I can barely keep my eyes open. Stay awake.

I want to pass out, to die. For it to be over. No person should ever have to endure this. My own people doing to this to me. It’s too much to handle. They were supposed to protect me against the mods. Not kill me for defending them.

I take one last breath before the darkness overtakes me.