BIOHAZARD!T
he snow clinging tenuously to the domes gives the neon lig
hts a wierd,muted glow.  Briefcase-toting b
usinessmen mingle with homeless derelicts int
he intricate dance of inner-sprawl life.  T
hrumming drum-beats coming fromthe open
 doors of smoke filled nightclubs shake the stree
ts as ugly hookersproclaim the quality 
of their merchandise around cheap filter-tipped ciga
r-ettes.A young p
unk wonders out of a club, not even blinking as h
is neo-hitachiimplants adjust automati
cally to the change from pulsating scarlet to
piercing white.  He flexes his fingers,
 making sure  that the change incl
imate hasn't altered the fine wiring, then
 he looks down to his boot,making
 sure that his "piece" is still in place.  It's 
a H&K 9mm gauss pistol,witch a DN
I hookup that syncs with his nrural-processo
r when the gun touchesthe 'trodes on h
is palm to give him that little edge th
at means so much.He turns into a dim
ly-lit alley, hopinlito find his entert
ainment forthe evening.  He draws his 
carry-knife and admires how the light gleams oni
t's searated edge.  He keeps the knife well oile
d, but takes great painsto make sure it's n
ot TOO sharp...he likes to watch them bleed.
Morat the Black [CHAOS CT] '93