Defect

[prologue]

I KNOW WHAT people think of me; of my kind. I know the whispers that spread through the night, the rumors of weakness, of cruelty. I know people say we are weaker, that we are the cause of the chaos and pain, of the death and blood and tears. I know what people say. But they’re wrong.

The Evos have taken over, it’s true. They are the advanced, the next generation, and they are superior… at least, according to most people. But then there are the few. The ones who dare to whisper the truth in the dead of night. The ones who slide up, leading tiny, silent rebellions and say, “It isn’t supposed to be this way. We may be Non-Evos, but we are all the same species at heart.”

And then you come up against the whole problem of what to do with us. The Non-Evos. The ones from the Before. Before all this happened. Before humans became ruthless immortals. Before 2066. Well, naturally the Non-Evos, the lower creatures, serve as the working force. They are branded, when they reach the age of 5, so that they can find their place in society.

I was branded, too. Even though I was born 2065, on December 30th. I was two days too early. I still remember the Branding. There are 5 different groups you can be put into- Mines, Textiles, Agriculture, Government (but they are called Whites, because they don’t ever have to get their hands dirty) and finally, the lowest of the low, Personal Slave.

Each one has a distinctive symbol. That’s why I, being the lowest rank, have handcuffs permanently seared into the back of my neck. I had to go to a specialized school, too. Everyone goes to a school to learn their place in society from the time they are 5 to the day they turn 15, like I am tomorrow.

To be honest, though, I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to be an Evo. They say they are the next, superior generation. The Evolved.

I say they are monsters. Each one, living forever, stronger, faster, and more blood-thirsty than the old humans. Sometimes, people--really old ones, ones who were alive when people still lived free and told stories--talk about them, about what the Evos became. They speak of how the human race has transformed into the creatures we once made up, of how we went from fearing the monsters under the bed to being those monsters. Sometimes, if you listen, you can hear whispers of Vampires and Angels, of Demons and Ghosts. I haven’t been able to learn much, with the death sentence on saying anything from the old world. But from what I’ve found… Evos are the supernatural. They’re Vampires, with the occasional Werewolf or Angel.

And yet… after all I’ve found, after all I’ve risked, I still feel as it something’s missing.

Something big.

Something that could change the world.

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Hey everyone! Thnx for reading this, and I hope it wasn't terribly boring or anything. I know Prologues can be kinda boring, but I try to make mine interesting to read if I can. So, yeah, that's really all I have to say...

Bye for now, my Wattpadians!

--Earthstone