Strike While the Iron Is Hot

Strike While the Iron Is Hot (Pt.1)

Strike While the Iron is Hot

By: American Holiday

Chapter One: Criminals

Sharp walked down the filthy, crowded streets, keeping his head down. He walked as casually as he could, for being a criminal. Sharp belonged to the rank of T-I citizens. Dangerous. Felons. Probably Strung out. That was the nickname of the citizens within Besbick: "Strung-Outs". Even though technically he had never broken any laws. He had never stolen or killed anybody, though those were very common occurrences in the city.

He didn't even mug people for credits, even though he was homeless and desperately needed it. And it was so easy to roll people on the street like him, especially when they were high off their minds, laying on their backs on the street, their stomach's swollen and their veins popping out of their necks. The foam collecting around their mouths made them look like living corpses.

No, Sharp was dangerous because he didn't take the Elixir. Elixir was the drug of the times. It was supposedly a miracle drug, available everywhere. And even though it wasn't the law to take it, everyone did. Everyone. A couple of years ago babies started getting injected with it the moment they were out of the womb in Besbick.

But Sharp was lucky. He was born before the law was enacted. He scoffed at the feeble attempts to make it seem like the people had free will. Sure, it wasn't mandated. You only got fined each month if you didn't take your supplied dosage by the Arches.

He had heard Elixir prevented diseases and was good for low income people because it supplied them nutrition. But it gave them a high. People who overdose on it either die or remain brain dead until their system collapses.

Sharp saw through it all. At least, he liked to believe he did. There was so much news nowadays to wade through, a constant flowing torrent of mixed, sloppy information. Fact and fiction, lies and truth. All blended together and fed to the people to make them happy. To paint a better picture than what really was happening.

The social hierarchy was clear though. The goals, motivations, they'd all been clear. The rich sit at the top. They were the Arches, the ones with all the power. They controlled the supply of the Elixir. And because the Elixir was so addictive, almost impossible to get off of, it was a way to keep the people in check. They relied too heavily on it. That was why most of the broke, struggling, homeless people were the ones so hooked on Elixir. They would do anything for a hit.

The cheap stuff, Scuff, was available too, but you had to be careful around that. It could kill you the first time because it was so strong and the quality was questionable.

Sharp took a turn down an alley. He glanced around, looking up at the rafters for security cameras. But this camera had been down for months. The little red light was off and it hung limp and lifeless. He squeezed in between a gaping crack in the alley wall behind a few trash cans. It led to the inside of the boarded up building.

Rain was the first one to greet him. Rain was the youngest, and had a funny way of speaking. Oftentimes he would stare at nothing, staring into space before zoning back in and talking.

Rain smiled at him and came forward, holding out something small and wrapped in brightly colored plastic. "Look!" He declared in his gentle-spirited way, "A present, From Tombs!"

Sharp couldn't help but just smile at Rain, he was the baby of the group. He had a curly head of light blue hair and a septum piercing, black studs in both ears and pale skin. He was skinny and soft, wearing layers of baggy clothing. He wore red contacts, but that was as far as his body modification went, especially in the times they were living in.