| Backstory | Mario Stinson, Hispanic, never left New York City. He was the only child that his mother was able to conceive. His rich American father left before he was born, growing up in a broken family wasn't very ideal in the neighborhood they were living in. The cost of being rejected made him uneasy. Bullying kids in school, getting involve in gang crimes just to blow off some steam that the society pile up over him and his mother.
A criminal with big goal to become a doctor and for being poor he had to go a different path than the usual would go for. Giving that he’s in gang and got his own ties he started a business as a body cleaner, whenever a house raid or a drive by occur people ask for his services. Mario would go to retrieve the bodies in his van and start his real passion in slicing, memorizing the map of the human organs, learning from the used books he bought online from the dropout rich kids. years passed and he kept growing in his craft until he built his reputation for being a doctor. The doctor that all the criminals would go for after their massacres.
18th of May, 2019 || the day that the world went mad, while having a lunch with his mother breaking news hit the screen "chaos on western seaboards - please stay at home”. By 2-PM sirens started going on NYC, he started packing with his mom and went straight to the van and stormed off. First week they started to go short on supplies and had to search for resources, he stopped at a gas station to fill the van with gas and his mother went in the store unaware that a horde is waiting inside as soon as she opened the door, they ran into her. Calling out for her son, mario ran to his mother and was able to get her, both of them got into the van and rushed the road out of that deadly trap, but it was too late for her to be saved. Covered in her blood she asked him to put her out of this pain and as a son he relieved her of this hell. It has been 3 weeks since the incident and those were uneasy. Wherever he looked thousands of dead bodies were filling the streets. Death, that's all there's if not by the dead then by the viciously un-dead. In a world ruled by the dead he's still looking for a place to call home. |
