The Gangster

Anomalistic year: 1374 Vitam et Regeneratio (Life After Death)

The world wasn't what the history books divulged it to be anymore. The stories depict a time where there was no order, structure or equality. A time where appearances mattered and where violence and fighting thrived on the squabbles of others. It was a time where society was imbalanced, the important things in life to everyone was status, and the existence of menial things like swagger and these things called selfies which were self taking portraits of people's self image.

Ever since the Society of Law had saved the world from itself, all the negatives were erased. Everyone became valued and had a meaningful purpose in life. The Law had rendered all indifference obsolete and made us equal. There were rebels who didn't believe in their cause, in the meaning of what the Law had shown us. We weren't judged because of a name given to us at birth. We weren't demoralized by life choices and personal opinions because we no longer had any. We felt no pain. We felt no emotion. Without emotion, there is no harm between us.

In the new world, decisions were rendered unnecessary for the people of my zone and all zones around the world. Knowledge is what was required; our brain's one and only use was to absorb knowledge like water being absorbed into the Earth. When we were the correct age, learning began. The Society tested you and allocated or assigned you a career based on the things you knew which is where I come in. My assigned profession was that of a surgical doctor, more specifically an Accident and Emergency Surgeon. I was currently in my fourth year of studies at the Order which was originally named University in what felt like eons ago. This made me 22 years of age.

I didn't recall much of the events that transpired before I came I came to. I recall walking home, the sun setting at the horizon. The world was noiseless, calmer than a still stream, the streets filled with people moving in a state of synchronicity that with age, you grew accustom to. From that moment, I honestly remember nothing that came after that fact.

With the knowledge I had acquired I could deduce without examining myself, what my injuries were. I detected the iron flavored, metallic scent of dried blood coming from the left side of my face. It was obvious to figure out that I was hit on the head with a blunt instrument because the last thing I remembered was a strong firm grip instantly appearing around the top of my arm, the harsh, rough tug, ripping me from my everyday path. In that moment, I remembered myself trying to see who had pulled me away but everything went black.

In the middle of my musings, a strand of my wheat toned hair fell in front of my eyes. I realized that my hair had been removed from its neat high ponytail that I had put it in this morning. There was never a strand loose of my hair because I prided myself on my appearance. As my vision gained more focus and gained more control of my limbs, I attempted to move my hand to rid myself of that annoying strand that was ticking my nose in an unpleasant manner but found that I couldn't move either of my hands.

I tugged on both of them repeatedly but to no avail, my hands would not do as I wished. In that moment, I realized that my hands had been rendered immobile which made me search my surroundings to see if I could figure out exactly where I was.

I instantly noticed the unpleasant chill that crawled across my bare skin like scorpions, stinging me right on my nerve endings, causing a wake of goosebumps to appear as it moved along. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck standing on edge when I heard an echoing groan of displeasure echo from outside the heavily barred window with the tiniest of gaps to let air in. My ears perked up at the sound of dripping water that was leaking from the roof. The room was empty, a dark and dead void so quiet you could hear the whispers of mice as the tiptoed along the ground.

The room was barely lit but in the shadows I saw a set of eyes accompanied by a slouched, but barely discernible figure leaning against the wall. My pale, brown eyes filled with no fear locked with the set of intense blue eyes as I opened my mouth and spoke, "Who are you? What do you want with me? Why am I here?"

The person tsked, the sound of light footsteps on the ground as the figure moved forward, coming closer before the person stepped out into the moonlight that shined through a skylight.

My eyes took in the man's features as I sat, bound to a highly uncomfortable chair. He was handsome, technically he would be classified as an Adonis. His skin held a unique tone in the moonlight, it was definitely considered olive and he had this pouty peach, possibly pink toned lips. there was a scar about his eyebrow but there was this slightly obscured by his shaggy , messy, rich, dark chocolate hair. He had this firm body build but I noticed this hole burnt into his shirt and a dried blood stain in the white shirt's fabric.

"SCL1073948526, you do not know me but I certainly know you." His voice was like the finest bourbon, smooth and velvety in tone. He came a little closer, his hand pressing against the seemingly still bleeding wound on his side and he whispered, "I need your help."

This is where my story truly begins as I realized in that moment that I was face to face with the man, the myth, the rebel known as the Gangster.


A/N: hope you all like, leave a review and tell me what y'all think. Thanks for giving it a read guys.