Author's Note: Hi there! If you don't know me, I'm renabop21. If you do know me (and read my stories) you will know that I have a tendency to give up on my stories if I don't have enough support and/or reviews. It's not that I'm a review whore (well, yeah, it is sorta.), but I just lose interest if my readers lose interest. And I think that this story might actually go somewhere. So, it would mean a lot to me if you reviewed. Oh, and warnings. Slight slash, gore, MAYBE man-on-man love (if I get requests to go farther than flirting, kissing, etc.), Scifi, future-fic, cursing, and maybe other things. I don't know. This is the only warning you will receive, so you know what you're going into. Ok, I'll stop talking now.
DISCLAIMER: Roses are red, violets are blue, Yeah, I don't own this, so please son't sue.
-Present time, kyle's POV-
My eyes shot open, the light flooding into my irises. I can only explain that pain as being almost as bad as the needle that was being shot into my arm currently. I black out again.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck.
This can't be right.
I mean, they've come for a lot of other kids, but not me.
My family isn't poor. We haven't overspent our linit.
I'm a good kid. No criminal record.
Fuck.
How could this happen?
My eyes flutter open softly this time.
As my eyes adjusted to the bright lighting, my vision cleared up.
Wow. Not bad for a introduction gladimorph room. A bit plain, I guess.
I tried to sit up, to find that I had ropes around my wrist. I wiggled a bit in them, trying to see if I could break my wrists in order to slip through them. Nope,I thought. My hands are small, but not THAT small.
Finding the struggling useless, I swiveled my head around as far as I could in either direction. They actually didn't use a head-lock on me, so that's pretty good.
I took in what I could see from my position on the medical table.
morph-recruiters, yet. I guess they already prepped me, and are just waiting to put me under. I pause, looking intensely at the brown walls for an escape route.
Oh god. What if they already infected me? What if all the surgeries are done, and they're just putting me in here to heal? I shake my head, successfully clearing the bad thought out of my mind. Wet scarlet curls bounced with the movement, hitting my neck.
I suddenly realize that I'm wet all over. And naked.
They must have hosed me off to get the blood off.
I was pretty dirty when I remember being grabbed on the street, coming home from playing football with my friends.
Oh god. My friends. I really hope they didn't get them.
But then again, I was playing with Stan, Butters, and Cartman. Stan and Cartman would probably be able to protect themselves, and I saw Butters being picked up by his parents. He was only allowed to watch, because he was grounded.
I would have been playing with Kenny too, but he disappeared over 3 months ago.
The feds probably found out about him paying taxes for his mom with the money he made from selling drugs.
They took him away in the middle of the night, him grabbing for Karen while they dragged him and his brother off in a different van than Karen and his mom.
We don't talk about Kenny at school anymore.
"The amendment of the constitution number 38 states that if a parent or parents fail to pay a annual taxes, the child and/or they may be taken to the gladimorph arena. This law also applies to law-breaking. If a child and/or parent commits a crime that is considered appropriately terrible, they nation has a right to send them to arenas, where they may be transformed into a 'vampmorph, weremorph,shiftermorph,etc.' in order to have enhanced fighting abilities. The child or adult may then be bet on in a match against another gladimorph, perhaps to the death"
38th ammendment
"Look at he way they treat us! Like filth, dirt, scum! The poor of the world, the sinners, are now lower leveled then beasts and dogs themselves! Has compassion been forgotten? Have the rich of the world turned a blind eye to other peoples troubles, only interested in seeing them spill each others blood on the pavement? Where has morals gone? Have they ran, far from the monstrosities of the arenas?"
-poem from an anonymous source, popular slogan of retired gladimorphs
"Listen. Do you hear it? The wulves and beasts are screaming at the moon, begging for forgiveness of the sins they've committed."
song lyrics from "The moon-sinners" by arena-dwellers
-Flashback to 7th grade-
"Now class, settle down." Our 7th grade teacher, Mrs. Dickupbutt (why can't we have a normal teacher for once?) said, motioning with her hands to "lower the volume".
We all head to our seats.
"Now, I would like to talk about something very important, okay? Today we will be discussing the 38th amendment, also known as the 'Gladimorph treaty'." She shuffles her papers on her desk, probably feeling awkward. No one likes to talk about it, but it is required by law to learn about it by 7th grade. Although, I never got that. All of our parents had explained it to us before now, much like 'The Talk'.
"Okay, so. You have already read the whole thing by now, but lets recite it to jog our memories."
She starts us off in unenthusiastic muttering of the amendment. When we're done, Cartman raises his hand.
"Yes, Eric?" She almost sighs in exasperation, but holds back.
"Why do we have tew lern about it if we already know it?" He asks, slightly annoyed.
"Because Eric." This time she does sigh, "You may know the words, but most of you don't really know the whole story behind it."
He sits back down, grumbling.
"Well, back in 1951, the morph-ling virus was created. It was sold in shady deals, after they figured out that the government wouldn't let them have it if they knew about it. Back then gangs and mobsters used it to morph their members. It helped with their image and helped them interrogate other gang's members. Also, they often used it for the 'Rush' you get when you change. Of course, no one predicted the side effects and the uncontrollable rage, but when they did, it was too late. People were selling it by the pound, in three different categories. Vamp, werewulve, and shapeling. Nowadays, we have more categories than that, but it had just come out back then. The government started to get suspicious when mass numbers of people would disappear. Most of the time it was weres, vamps, and shaper gangs fighting each other, but the government didn't know that yet. They investigated, and found the virus. They immediately outlawed it. They tried their hardest, but they didn't get all of it off the street. It was still in covert circulation, being passed hand to hand 'under the table'. And soon, people started taking other people and infecting them against their will, putting them into arenas to fight to the death. They bet on it, and soon the government found out about that too. They decided that they could use it to their advantage. And so the 38th amendment was born. It stated that, under regulations and supervisions, people who avoided taxes or commited crimes could be taken to arenas, and infected with the virus. There, they would fight other morph-lings. It doesn't go to each-others death anymore. Now it is safe and controlled. And only bad people go there." I knew it was all bullshit. Bad people go there, but so do innocent poor people.
It's terrible.
It's immoral.
It only exists because the government wants to scare us into paying taxes, and not making trouble.
Yet no one ties to stop it.
Author's Note: So? What did you think? Did you hate it? Did you love it? Do you think it is the most retarded thing you have ever seen? Let me know! Know why? Cause I love reviews.
Okay, so I hope I explained it enough to move on, cause that was the point of this chapter. I didn't explore Kyle's 'situation' too much, cause I want that to be the meat of the story. Also, if you're wondering what paring this will be, don't hold your breath.
It may be K2, it could be kyman... no style, sorry. There's other pairings, too. Don't worry if you like neither of those.
I know it's a bit out-there, but I was trying for something different besides the whole "OMG KYLE AND STAN LOVE EACH OTHER! But they're in High school and they don't wanna reveal their secret, and blah de blahr." It's a bit overused.
Reviews help me decide where the story is going, what parings,etc. Oh, and motivation. So yeah. Do it.
How many times have I pressured you into reviewing now...? 5? oh well.
BYE! :D