T R Ü S T

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22. M I R A

      The train clambers through a dark tunnel

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The train clambers through a dark tunnel. Occasionally, letting it's wheels whine.

I'm seated on worn out leather seats that have passed the point of peeling. Red skin chips off the chair with the slightest of movements.

There are three carts, and I've snuck out to the very last one, needing to have a moment by myself. You would think after all this time, that I'd be ecstatic to be in the company of others. But, when a conversation about you, turns into an argument, I find I'd rather not be in the room.

I rest my face on my forearms. A large window reflects the darkness that the train is rushing from. The cart lurches back and forth, as it's tracks carry us deeper into the unknown.

      Josie had decided the fastest way to the city of Paris would be Underground Railroad. I didn't question why we were the only ones using this form of transportation. I sense there might be some tension between vampires and humans.

The cart door opens before slamming shut, and the sound makes me sit up. I turn expecting to see Vye's reassuring face but I'm surprised and nervous when I see that it's Comrade.

      For the last hour he's been locked in a heated debate with Vye, also known as Veena. How she could possibly make the monumental decision of allowing me into their group, all on her own. Clearly, he doesn't want me here. I imagine him stopping the train and leaving me on the side of the tracks.

      His lanky form stands by the door, and the maddening notion that I've met him before pesters me.

Gone is the mask covering, and my eyes trace over his face. The sides of his dark hair are shaved, while just the top grows. The wavy tendrils feather over his forehead and touch his high set brows. Comrade has incredibly shallow cheekbones and a wide jaw. He is not traditionally handsome, there is something peculiar about his face. Pretty soon, the vexation he harbours for me and this situation has swathed the  rectangular cart.

So, I look away rest my face back on my arms, and gaze at anything that isn't him.

"I don't trust you." Straight to the point he goes, his voice like gravel that unhinges my mind.

I don't say anything, hoping he'll let me be, let me stew in my misery alone. He's acting like I asked for this to happen, I didn't ask for any of it. It shouldn't be possible for him to hate me this much, but I see that hate is a reoccurring emotion in this world.

"Veena, and the others seem to be fine with you. But, I'll tell you right now this clan is a family to me, and I won't let just anyone come into it. You've got to prove yourself."

This doesn't sit well with me, so I turn ready to speak my mind. Only, he's too close. Standing comfortably in my personal space, looking down at me with accusing eyes. I don't know what he's internally blaming me for, but I have no desire to ask, nor do I care.

"For someone who doesn't trust me, you stand awfully close." I get up and slide past him heading for the exit. I don't want to be confined to this small space with just him, he's too volatile. Two hours ago he was ready to slit my throat open.

His hand curls around my wrist, stopping me. I try to free myself, but I'm no match for his strength.

He watches me, "I hear you don't drink blood. You realise, if you did, you'd be able to toss me against that glass window."

"I don't believe in violence, unless it's highly necessary." His thumb brushes across my scars. "Let go."

I'm surprised when he listens, but then I realise why.

"Empty your pockets," he says. "I saw you brought a few trinkets from your utopia. If your going to be around my clan, then I'd like to see what you've brought."

"You seem too young to lead this clan." I glare at him. He looks around my age, barely pushing on eighteen.

"I'm not the leader, Kieran is. I'm just doing my civic duty."

Kieran, the other masked fight is the leader. Then why am I bothering with him, I'm on my way to the door.

Comrade strides in front of me and I've lost all my sense as pure rage overtakes me. My heart feels like it's been mutilated, vampires, my own kind they've destroyed my home. I'm seething with myself, that I allowed myself to believe there was something more waiting for me. I'm devastated that my dreams will remain only available at night, in my mind. Comrade, keeps instigating my emotions that are already over the edge. It's unfair that I should push all of my rage on this boy, but I can't stop it. I feel like I'm another person as a wave of heat envelops my left hand. My fingers hidden behind flames of gold that flicker to black. They are like an extension of me, as they curl around his throat. He's pulled off of his feet and into the air.

My eyes cloud over, and I can feel shock riddle him as I yank him close. He infuriates me, and I don't know why, he shouldn't make me feel this incensed, but he does. There's something about him that makes me burn.

"I said, I don't believe in violence unless it's necessary. Don't take my quiet for weakness, Comrade." I spit his name out, hoping he knows I realise it's an alias, he doesn't look like a Comrade, and what kind of name is that? It sounds stupid! "As for proving myself, I guess that isn't up for you to decide is it?"

Then I retract my hand and the ring of flame melts away. His knees go weak and sink's to the floor.

      The haze obscuring my vision fades as I stand over him. I look at my hand and see that I've marked his throat with a dark burn.

      His fingers reach out to touch the skin and he can't stop the wince of pain. I step away from him. I just hurt another person. I can't even manage to apologise.

      My mind pulses with disappointment as I'm rushing for the door. Unable to look at the evidence, that I can be just as cruel as this world.

      His whisper is almost lost in the rush of the train. But still I hear it.

      "Don't reveal your abilities," he's sitting on the floor with his back to me. "You have to keep them hidden when we arrive in Paris."

      I don't understand, I doubt that vampires are the only fantastical creatures here, Red Plague or not, other beings must possess their own powers. It has to be that way so the balance of life isn't favouring the one percent.

      I don't say anything as I leave.

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