Almost a year has passed after the deaths of Blind Mag, Nathan Wallace, and the head of GeneCo - Rotti Largo - at the Genetic Opera. The world had little time to mourn, as Amber Sweet took over GeneCo and the sons of Rotti - Pavi and Luigi - took hold of the power left by their father's downfall. GeneCo grew all the more ravenous, demanding payments impossibly fast. Miss Sweet grew more power-hungry by the day and thirsting for money to supply her Zydrate addiction.

The daughter of Nathan Wallace disappeared after her father's death. Nobody's really sure what happened to her. Perhaps she died. I can't say for sure. I almost miss the kid. Too bad, I suppose.

And who am I?

I go by Graverobber. That's what I do, after all. Rob graves, I mean. Pretty self explanatory. I collect Zydrate from the countless corpses in every cemetery, selling it to Addicts like Amber for a fine price. Sure, it's a dangerous profession. But Miss Sweet puts all her time these days into hiring more Repo Men and collecting payments, so these days GeneCo has less authorities going after graverobbers like myself. Plus, if she killed me, who on Earth would get that princess her Zydrate?

See, I'm in a win-win situation now. I'm getting a steady flow of money coming in from the Addicts. I'm the drug lord of the 21st Century. When all those surgery-craving junkies need a numb fix, they come to me.

Of course, every job comes with competition. Once in a while I do encounter another graverobber. But none will ever have power like I do. None of them know how to sneak in every single cemetery in the city as well as I can. Most of those fools get caught. But not me.

I sit now in an alley decorated with tattered ZYDRATE ADDICTS SUPPORT GROUP flyers (support for feeding the addiction, I suppose), scrubbing a sticky combination of dirt and blood off my boots. I may be a criminal, but that doesn't mean I can't be somewhat tidy. It's nearly midnight, meaning the Addicts will begin to show up soon. I've got a case full of Zydrate and a wonderful new Zydrate gun resting at my side. The blue glow is sickly and beautiful, and I swear it attracts the Addicts like moths to a flame.

Footsteps. Three of my regulars round the corner, waltzing up to me. Two women and a young man. Each of them still has scars from numerous surgeries and Zydrate shots visible on their skin. It's a somewhat ghastly sight, actually. But they always come back for more. More drugs, more surgeries, more scars.

I stand, a sly smile creeping across my face. All three of them reach for me, and I feel like a god amongst them. One of the women touches my face, sliding her hand down to my chest. "Do you have it?" she asks, her voice a sigh.

"Always." I reach to pick up the case and sit back down, cross-legged, propping it open for them to see. All three of them get wide eyes and grab at it, but I close the lid quickly. "Payment first."

Without hesitation, they fork over the cash. I dish out two tubes of the Z each, and put one into the Zydrate gun. "Who's first?" I ask with a grin.

"I am."

The voice comes not from any of the three but from none other than Amber Sweet, striding towards me in a shameless outfit (isn't she always dressed shamelessly? Not that I'm complaining, no sir). Her eyes are locked on the Zydrate gun in my hand. Her henchmen stand at her side, emotionless. You'd think after all the trouble that girl's gotten into, one of them would show some concern eventually.

"Of course, Miss Sweet," I laugh deeply and she pushes the first three customers aside, who back off, clutching their Zydrate protectively. She wraps her leg around my waist, pushing me against the brick wall. Like any average Addict, her eyes are no less than freaking insane. But you can't let insanity deter you in this day and age. Everyone's off their damn rocker.

I hold the gun up to the spot right in the middle of her forehead and she closes her eyes. My finger pulls back the trigger and there's a loud ZAP! sound. Amber collapses backwards as the effects kick in instantly. Her men catch her and she clutches their arms to steady herself, leveling those crazy eyes of hers at me. "Sometimes I wonder why I need you at all," she laughs.

"You need me," I say casually, stepping towards her and gripping her chin with my hand, "I am the cure for all your pain." I smile and release her, turning away. A few more customers approach, demanding my attention.

They pay, and I give the shots. That's how it's always been, and always will be.

Well, not always. I didn't always used to be Graverobber. But that story is for another time.

After I've dealt out all the Zydrate I've got for the night, the Addicts slowly drift away, to return another night when they're aching to be numb.

Once the night's work is over, it's about time for me to head home. Yeah, I've got somewhere to call home now. I used to crash in dumpsters or, on lucky nights, Addicts' couches. But when more money started rolling in, I said to myself, Graverobber, you're sitting on piles of cash, it's about time you found yourself a decent little place to hide it all.

So where did I go? The first place I could think of - The old Wallace residence. With Nathan dead and Shilo having vanished, I couldn't let it just go to waste, could I? Of course not! I settled right in and I've been there this entire past year. I go there now, carrying my now-empty case and the Zydrate gun. Through the gate, in the front door, up the stairs, into my room. I presume it used to be Nathan's room once. But now I call it my own. I've rearranged as I saw fit, and this is where I keep all my materials for extracting and storing Zydrate.

I put the case with the rest in the corner and put the gun in its glass display with my various others, all purchases, of course, directly off the black market. Then, I take care to lock the door (being a drug lord, you can't be sure who's going to try to kill you in your sleep) and take off my leather trench coat, throwing it over a bedpost. I painstakingly remove my boots and then flop down on the bed. My job is no less than exhausting, and I've surely earned a good rest.

However, not ten minutes after I've settled down, there's a loud crash from downstairs. My eyes fly open and I leap to my feet, snatching to pistol from my nightstand. Yippee, I might get to kill someone again. It's sure been a while. I grin and unlock the door, kicking it wide open. There's another crash and loud footsteps. Whoever the intruder is, they certainly have no skill in stealth whatsoever.

I creep down the hallway and peep my head around the corner of the staircase. There's a figure at the foot of the stairs, just standing there. I hop around the corner, hitting the light switch on the wall. "Don't move and I'll kill you!"

"Don't you mean 'don't move or I'll kill you'?"

Well, I'll be damned. I lower the gun and chuckle, "Kid, is that you?"

"What are you doing here?" she snaps. The intruder is none other than Shilo Wallace. And, considering I'm in her house, I suppose I'm the intruder here.

She looks like shit, bleeding from a gash on her forehead, and her skin is even more deathly pale than I remember. Her black dress is torn in several places, and she's missing a shoe. The pendant around her neck is bloodstained, and her eyes are full of something not even I can grasp.

"You have to help me," she pleads, falling to her knees suddenly. I rush down the stairs to her side, on the verge of a total freakout. Here I thought the girl was dead, and she shows up out of nowhere.

"Kid, what happened to you?"

"I need to hide," she tells me, her voice weak.

"From who?" I ask, my thoughts instantly wondering if she's running from a Repo Man. But last I knew, her only problem was the crap her freaky dad was poisoning her with.

"GeneCo..." she glances back towards the door with a frightened look, "Help me. Please."

I help her up the stairs and she goes right into her old bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"You need to tell me what happened," I demand, standing in the doorway with my arms crossed.

She grabs the bloody pendant on her necklace, staring blankly ahead. "Blind Mag was my... godmother. And my dad was the Repo Man..."

"Yeah, so?"

"GeneCo owned both of them. So technically..." she swallows hard, "They own me."

"Ohh, and let me guess, they want to rope you into a contract like Mag and your father?"

"They want my organs," she whimpers, "Because I'm healthy. The 'blood disease' I had was just from my dad poisoning my meds, so when I stopped taking those, I got better. So Luigi came and... he said that because they own me, they can do whatever they want with me."

She pulls her legs up onto the bed and holds her knees to her chest. If it were anybody else, I'd kick them out and say Life's a bitch and then you die. Deal with it. But I couldn't let the kid go back out on the streets. Not with those fucking Largo siblings after her. I entered the room and jumped up onto the bed, squatting beside her. "You can stay here, kid."

"Oh, thank you so much," she cries, and I can tell she feared I would make her leave. Shilo throws her arms around my neck in an awkward hug and I freeze up, only accustomed to the greedy touch of the Addicts. She draws back, and a smile plays across her face. I feel pretty damn good about myself right about then, having just saved her life and all.

"Get some sleep, kid," I say, "And lock this door behind me. Here. Keep this in your reach," I hand her the pistol and she takes it like she's never seen one in her life. I leave the room and wait until I hear the click of the lock before I go back to my own bed for some well-earned sleep.

I awaken sometime before two in the afternoon. Light sneaks in despite the heavy curtains, forcing me into consciousness. I yawn and convince myself to roll out of bed, stretching out until my back produces a satisfying pop. My thoughts go right to Shilo, and my pessimism wonders if she even lived through the night. I unlock my door and tiptoe out into the hallway, my feet silent without the heavy boots to weigh me down. When I arrive at the door to her room, I'm happy to note it is still locked tight.

"Kid, open up," I knock lightly on the door and hear movement within. A few moments later, I hear the sound of the lock and Shilo cracks the door open.

"Look outside," she tells me, grabbing me by the arm to drag me into her room. She throws the curtains open and jabs a finger at something below. I lean around her to see whatever the hell it is she's freaking out about.

"Aw, shit, kid," I sigh. Sitting outside the gate to the Wallace residence is a sleek black limo with the GeneCo logo printed on its side, along with Amber's current face (wasn't she supposedly done changing her face?). The car idles, and for a second I actually think they might drive away. But before I can get my hopes up, the passenger door swings open and the first thing I see is a fishnet-clad leg with a wicked stiletto. Amber. She steps out of the car looking like she owns the whole place, and her two henchmen emerge from the other side of the car, positioning themselves obediently at her side.

As Amber barges through the gate, I grab the curtains, yanking them shut. Shilo is looking at me with eyes full of terror like an Addict going through withdrawals. "How did she find me?" she whimpers.

"Kid," I grumble, patting her head, "GeneCo has eyes everywhere. I'm not surprised she came after you."

"So, now what? You're not letting her take me, are you?" she peers around the curtains nervously. Amber is now nearly at the front door, bringing misfortune with her.

"Jeez, I'm a drug lord, but I'm not evil. Come on, kid. I found something your dad never showed you."

"What?" at the mention of her father, a mixed expression of rage and sorrow is evident. But there's not exactly time for us to linger on that. Amber is ruthless. I've seen her kill over just a tube of Zydrate. That bitch is crazy. I yank Shilo out of her room and skip down the stairs, dragging her along behind me. There's a fireplace at the foot of the stairs, and I turn the pyramid-shaped ornament on the mantle before pulling the entire fireplace away from the wall - a secret door. Shilo gasps and I shove her into the remnants of Nathan's old Repo den. I push the entrance shut behind her just as Amber pounds on the door.

"Graverobber!" she coos, "Let me in!" On the last note, her voice twists into no less than a snarl and I smirk. Nobody can simply order me around like that. Not even the face of GeneCo.

"Yes?" I chime, opening the door and smiling ear-to-ear, knowing she can't hurt me. If she does anything to me, the princess is going to need a new dealer. And nobody gets Zydrate as good as mine.

"Where is she?" Amber shrieks, shoving her way into the house. One of her henchmen literally lifts me up, moves me out of his way, and sets me back down. I can't help but snicker.

"Who?" I ask, feigning innocence. I lean against the wall and watch, amused, as the princess of GeneCo charges upstairs.

"Where's the girl, Graverobber?" Amber goes in the direction of my room and storms back downstairs, not even looking in Shilo's own room.

"What girl?"

She gets up in my face, inches away. Her skin smells like chemicals and plastic. I guess that's to be expected when Amber Sweet is addicted to the knife. "Where. Is. Shilo. Wallace?" Her face is turning red with frustration, which only entertains me more. Calmly, I slip away from her.

"I thought the Wallace girl was dead by now." It's incredible how smoothly a lie can pass through my lips. Although I know Amber sees right through me - not only because she's most likely caught Shilo on camera - but because I'm trying so obviously hard not to laugh in her face.

"Tell me where she is!" Amber demands, pulling a knife out of the bosom of her dress (not sure how nothing got sliced in there. Or maybe she's so high on Zydrate she can't even feel it). Gripping the weapon firmly, she waves it in my face, trying to threaten me.

In response, I finally release an outburst of laughter, "I don't know," I insist, unfazed by the blade ready to chop my face clean off. I've faced many a bullet and blade in my time, and this one, wielded by such an unstable woman, isn't about to crack my shell. "Go home to your genetic castle, princess," I tell her, "You lose today."

Her eyes grow wide with fury at my laughter. "Fine!" she shouts, "But I'll have you know, that girl belongs to GeneCo. Nathan and Mag both had their contracts to uphold. As their legal daughter, Shilo Wallace now belongs to me," she slaps me in an attempt to make her point. But I hold my grin, watching as she snakes back out the door and drives away with her henchmen.

I let out a sigh of relief, knowing if Amber had come in just minutes earlier I might not have been able to hide Shilo.

Which brings me to a mighty fine predicament. Poor kid gets more and more traumatized by the day, I bet. Now I've locked her up in the very place her father did his murderous Repo work. I grab the fireplace and slide it back, ducking through the entrance. I expected to find Shilo curled up right by the door, but instead she's standing in the middle of the room, staring at the table of rusty surgical instruments next to the vertical table with straps, covered in bloodstains. Aw, crap.

"Hey, come on kid, Amber's gone for now," I say, grabbing her shoulders to turn her away from the ghastly sight. I can't even imagine what must be going on through her head at the moment.

"My father... the Repo Man..." her voice is wispy, like she's on the verge of tears. I usher her back upstairs into her room, and she sits down on the end of her bed, moving the plastic drapes aside. She looks up at the picture of her mother looming above on the wall and quickly turns away. "He killed all those people. He even killed my mother. Why didn't he just kill me, too?"

I realized that I had multiple consistencies saying it was a year or a month after the Opera. Not sure how I never noticed before, but I've made the necessary changes now. Also, thank you to archaeologistghost for all the editing assistance you have provided me, chapter one has finally been edited.