Living Hell, Part I

~ 1 ~

Seattle, 18 May

There were no debts to pay, no men to convert, no women to marry, and no men to kill. All that was left was Rourke and a small bag of toiletries, clothes, and some documentation from San Diego. In an instant, when it seemed advantageous, the “love” of his life, a pristine blonde woman with whom Rourke would run away with, slapped him with false rape charges. And San Diego was not quite as Mexicanized as Los Angeles – they still enforced a lot of the idiotic liberal laws, long after the cartels and Hispanic activists took over the rest of Southern California.

The only consolation was that it did not matter anymore. Here he was, standing atop an old warehouse in the industrial district looking into downtown Seattle. To his right were the crumbling remnants of the once proud freeway system, to his left was a small river, where hundreds of people had made home, and were conducting all manner of defecation, bathing, trading, and socializing. The poorest of the poor, the totally homeless lived out here. Things were at least a little better in the city center – many of the office buildings had been converted into discount communal housing – the only type of housing affordable to most of the new lost generation. To the south was Tacoma, the blacks, the violence. Hardly anyone ventured there, and the new Mayor of Seattle, Patrick Cheng, had no inhibitions of stating his desire to keep out the blacks. At any rate, 70% of the city was nonwhite (and mind you, this was supposed to be the whitest urban center left in America), so there were few white liberals left to argue. To the North were the remnants of once proud industry, and the Navy. The working class was mostly around here, as were the few factories and naval ships left. To the east, what was left of the middle class was pent up in gated cities. The entire city of Bellevue elected to have a pay to live system, which was a way of keeping out the poor. The city was one of the last bastions of middle and upper class bourgeois normalcy left.

As for the rest of the world? Civil war in China, massive crusades in Europe, The East Coast was in turmoil, most of the cities had long ago gone up in a flame of riots, and most cities besides Seattle and Portland looked like Detroit. Seattle was saved by an assertive Asian population which took control – the rest of America was not so lucky. Rourke remembered hearing that a few towns in the Midwest and deep South were taken over by some self described White Nationalists. At any rate, whatever was left of the Army was doing their best to try and control the situation, but to little effect.

Where next? Rourke was pondering whether to head into the city, and try his luck finding a job, or to head into the barely policed rural areas, bad policing being both their major advantage and major failing. Rourke carefully but briefly weighed the pros and cons, the cities were violent, sure, but he didn’t have any skills which would take him far in the countryside. In the end, he just felt too insecure to try his hand at modern rural living, and reluctantly, he began making his way to the city center. Better the evil’s we know.

Most of the industrial buildings in this section of the city had been abandoned. To the extent manufacturing still existed in this part of the greater Seattle Governate, it was mostly small machine shops and mom and pop welding, auto mechanic, woodworking, or electrical shops. Along the path were prostitutes and homeless people, all showing off the worst of humanity.

Rourke pondered trying to enter one of the shops and offering his help, perhaps learning a trade, but these days people were hyper defensive and neurotic. Everyone was always afraid of someone else scamming them. Contracts didn’t mean shit anymore, and no one trusted no one. Not the police, not the federal army, not the security companies, not even their own spouses. Instead he just kept casually walking down the street, his concern increasing slowly as night fell. Nighttime was when the full force of the monsters came out – not like Rourke cared much for living anymore. If love, stability, security, and decency were all now outmoded lies, was their any point in living in this hell?

> Part 2

Outcast Kaitsar

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