Trenchport Memorial

Trenchport Memorial Hospital, on the surface, is a place of healing inside of a sprawling complex of gleaming white walls and sterile hallways. But beneath the smell of antiseptic lies a system as diseased as the city it serves. Officially, it’s the city’s premier medical institution, but in truth, it’s a battleground where life and death are decided not by need, but by wealth and influence.

​

The hospital administration is a web of cronyism, where high-ranking officials pocket funds meant for patient care. Equipment meant for public use mysteriously finds its way to private clinics operated by gangs, while critical resources are rationed for those who cannot pay. Doctors who speak out risk losing their licenses or worse. Only those willing to play by the hospital’s unspoken rules rise through the ranks.

​

The Emergency Department is a warzone. The wealthy are whisked to private suites with cutting-edge technology, while the poor languish in overcrowded wards. Patients without connections often wait for hours, or days, while those with the right name or enough cash bypass every barrier. The unwritten rule is simple: your life is worth as much as your wallet can bear.

​

Research and experimental treatments, officially touted as groundbreaking, serve as a front for darker pursuits. The most vulnerable patients, those without families or means, disappear into "special programs" where unregulated trials push the boundaries of medical ethics. Whispers circulate of bodies leaving the hospital in the dead of night, unclaimed and unaccounted for.

​

​In Trenchport, Memorial Hospital is not a sanctuary; it is a marketplace where health is a commodity, and survival depends on who you know and how much you can pay. For the desperate, it represents the last hope. For the powerful, it is just another arena where the weak can be exploited and discarded.