### All people featured are over the age of 18
***
Life was a rat race. I ran faster than most, but the economic depression hit everyone hard. Companies had to downsize that led to me losing the position I worked so hard to earn in my company. I was a good employee, but sacrifices had to be made for the boss to keep his wealth. I understood. I would have behaved similarly if I was in his position. It paid to look out for number one.
I sunk underneath the warm water of the park's river. I rotated onto my back to see the night sky. Tonight like most night had no visible stars due to the heavy light pollution. The water muffled the constant buzzing of machinery operating nearby. The stress flowed out of my body into the water. It was easy to imagine I was bathing in a bathtub rather than a local river. My imagination was one of the small pleasures of life I still had left.
I had trouble keeping my mind from craving the luxurious life I had grown accustomed to. I went from living in a penthouse apartment to bathing in a river. It was okay. I only needed to rely on myself to survive. I stole, lied, and cheated just like I did in the business world. Nothing really had changed.
I had no money, no bank account, no managerial position but I did not need them. I still had people underneath me. I controlled my little gang of misfits with the best motivator I knew of, fear.
I was a modder, a human who used money and technology to improve what God originally made. You could say I was more a machine than a woman. The street trash knew modders were dangerous.
It was better to have a modder as a friend than an enemy. It took a special kind of individual to gather enough wealth to afford augmentations. Modders knew how to survive.
I thrived even now in my own way. I did not need a mansion. The city was my home. The river was my bathtub. The small gang of losers I controlled had begun carving out a useful share of the drug market. This was just a chance to start over. I expected to be on top of the world again within forty years. It was a blink of the eye in the life of a Modder, some of us have lived for thousands of years.
I was only 130 years old. I had a long time left to live in this body. I loved the athletic look I had bought for myself. I had minimal body fat and strong, natural looking muscles underneath my skin. No matter what happened my body it could not be taken from me. A true Modders knew their body was the best asset to invest in. I had second-generation nanomachines and one wonderful gene mod that suppressed negative emotions for a few hours. It made living like this just a tad bit easier.
My lung began to scream for oxygen. The sensation disappeared as the nanomachines, in my body, extracted oxygen from the water. That feature was well worth the cost. The collection companies could take my house but not my body. My toes curled into a claw. I grimaced. It was a muscle cramp. That was odd. My nanomachines should have prevented an electrolyte imbalance from happening.
I resurfaced from below the water. The contrast between the cool night air and the warm water hit me. I thought for a moment I heard a rustling in a bush near the shore. Even if there were people on the shore they would be incapable of seeing me. The moon was not out, and this section of the park was fairly dark. The lack of light did not bother me. My eyes were capable of amplifying the low amounts of light that hit them. I could see the world fine.
I swam back to the part of the shore where I left my clothes. As my feet hit the shore, I noticed they were missing. I was sure this spot was where I left them. I scanned up and down the shore hoping I had misjudged where I landed on the shore. The river could have taken me further downstream than I assumed. It had not.
"There she is," I heard a gruff voice whisper. I turned to face the source of the sound. Someone was fucking with me. They must have been from out of town, no locals would dare. Despite my small frame, my augmentations gave me the strength of a strongman. I was going to literally rip them in half. More whispers drifted into my ear.
"Kay, Pa," I heard another hushed voice reply.
Click. My vision turned off. A ringing noise assaulted my ears. The world went silent. I took a step forward. My knees buckled inward. I spilled onto the ground.
A rough hand grabbed my shoulder then I lost all sense of touch. I could not say how much time I spent in that state. Time meant nothing. I only had the sense of smell to comfort me. The smell of the river disappeared. I was next bombarded with the smell of shit.
I came to my senses sitting upright against what felt like moist, rotten wood. The area was dark, but my night vision had not activated yet. It looked like I was inside an abandoned barn. This was a sight I was more accustomed to seeing in ancient television shows rather than the real world. It felt like I had been transported back in time. I sat on what felt like moldy hale. Small critters crawled over my bare legs. I could not move my body.
I could feel one of my two gene augmentations activate. My heartbeat steadied, and my mind relaxed. I needed to focus. I was still naked save for a metal collar clamped around my neck. It chained me to a study metal pillar to my left. It looked new.
"Looks like you ain't killed her boy," said someone. His voice sounded baritone. I tracked down the sound to a crate that was three yards in front of me and slightly to my right. I could not miss his hulking frame. "She'll sell well. Buyers love fit girls like her."
