Catharsis

Chapter Seven - Mavis

The train they were loaded into was dark and cramped. Mavis winced as her chains were attached to the wall. She slumped to the floor, apprehension flipping in her heart as the other prisoners made muffled noises of protests and gathered around her. She focused on the still-open exit, harsh light illuminating the space.

A young group of guards emerged from a door on the right. Mavis recognised a dark blonde head of hair and was dismayed to realise that the guard who was responsible for her failed escape stood there, watching the prisoners who still entered the tram through wide eyes. He looked suddenly apprehensive, much different to when he had captured her.

Rage shot through her. She wanted nothing more than to storm back out and give him everything he deserved, but she was chained to the wall and could barely move. Suddenly, the doors slammed shut and Mavis' eyes smarted against the sudden darkness. She suddenly felt a lot smaller as a girl nearby cried out in fear.

The tram lurched into motion.

Mavis shivered.

***

When the tram stopped, Mavis had fallen asleep. She was woken harshly by the doors being flung open, weak light spilling across the floor.

"Get up!" A guard yelled and suddenly she was released from the wall, though her handcuffs still remained

She was shoved forward, following the flurry of prisoners as they emerged into a room similar to the one where she had boarded the tram. However, this one was dingy, shadows clinging to its corners. The light flickered on and off, and Mavis resisted the urge to gasp at all the imperfections that covered the space.

Suddenly, a man came to the front of the room and she scowled as she recognised him instantly. Alan.

"Prisoners!" he yelled, silencing everyone at once. "You have arrived at the wood harvesting division, one of the five Labour Camps that keep our city running. I can assure you that your assistance is greatly needed here, and that everyone who works without complaint will be treated to better rations."

A murmur ran through the crowd — there were different kinds of labour camps. At least wood harvesting seemed far more interesting than something like textiles. It was an interesting job, something with open land and numerous ways to escape. Perhaps it wouldn't be all that bad.

"Now," Alan motioned and the five teenagers from before, including the blonde, emerged, "my guards will escort you to your new accomodations. Any poor behaviour will result in punishment."

Slowly, the crowd began to move forward, following the lead of the guards. Mavis was sure if they all tried at once, they'd be able to overpower the five, but it was clear from the shuffling, defeated movements displayed by most of the prisoners that the idea would only ever be just that — an idea. She was sure most people around her were completely harmless. She smirked as she saw even the man from the cell across her with his head held low, despite the big show of confidence he had displayed earlier.

Her smirk immediately disappeared as they ascended a flight of stairs and emerged into complete darkness. One of the guards, a red-haired, angry-looking boy, brought out a torch and shined it into the shadows. As it illuminated a stretch of ground covered in snow, Mavis could've sworn she saw something flicker at the edge of the torch's reach. She dismissed it as a trick of the light and walked forward with the others, trying with everything inside her to stay as far away from the guard who had bested her as possible.

Soon, tall, spindly trees towered over them, as if reaching out with gnarled fingers to catch them. The girl shivered, it was freezing and she was suddenly grateful that she still had her large, black coat.