Without a Trace: Chapter One
It started in the year 2062, people were going crazy over the possibility of another stock market crash. It was the Great Depression all over again. People, however, were getting sick over this. Apparently, it was a government plan, at least, that's what I figured out. First, they were going to take the currency. The people cherished money and relied upon it to live and survive. The second part was the nourishment. Without food, the people would either die, or begin eating one another in desperation, which was perfect, at least for the government. The population would decrease, and they would embellish in more riches within themselves. Then came the jobs, if there was no money, why have a job? The unemployment rate went up to 100%, obviously, leaving everyone without a dime. Unable to attain anything or even pay for anything, people were left confused. They had a place to live, at least, until the government took that as well. Without homes, everyone was forced to "live" on the streets like rabid animals, and eventually, they would become just that or die in the process. Finally, came the identity. The government brainwashed the masses into forgetting their own names. To the government, you were a number, but no one knew their number. For them, it was a sort of classification, but for the people, they had nothing to hold onto.
With nothing to distinguish themselves from, they became lost, sealed away within themselves.
Psychologically speaking, when you steal someone's routine, their brain tries to replace the emptiness and make another routine. So if you lose a job, your brain sets up a schedule for you, so you're productive in some way, shape, or form. When you steal someone's identity and everything they cherish, however, they brain slowly starts falling apart, soaking in whatever it can get.
The world couldn't take it. People became violent, their need for possession taking over, forcing them to take everything and anything they could find and claiming it as their own. They would cherish anything, such as a piece of paper. They would kill over seemingly insignificant things, such as a twig, or a stick, just so they had something… anything.
Then came the murders. As the need for possession raised, so did the crime rate. Those who were "a bit saner" set up a sort of black market worldwide. The currency? Flesh. The most elite wore the prettiest skins. Friends would kill each other. Children would start cutting up their mothers, families betraying one another... Anything to obtain flesh.
Skinning, now our form of "entertainment," became televised, being broadcasted daily. There was a new religion of sorts: the one where you murder for pleasure. You now kill or be killed. For those of us who are sane, if there is an "us," we run. We hide and wait for night to come, when most "people" hide. This is how I live now…
What the heck is going on?
End of "Without a Trace" Chapter One.