Part 1 - The Pilot: P Train

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Part One

The Pilot: P Train

'Gutter rat.'

'No better than the oil on my boots!'

'Worthless!'

Their venomous voices slunk out of the darkness of the factory, but I kept my head down and continued working. I'd had my fair share of battles with them, just like everyone had from time to time...but any more and I'd be edging into disobedient.

Disobedience equaled death.

As a kid, working here in is dark and depressing factory, anyone who'd disobeyed here was a bit of an idol to me. And one by one, me - along with everyone else - had watched them fall.

Publicly.

Loudly.

Violently.

The Higher Powers, as they called themselves, were violent and they were cruel; they took everything from us: our dignity, our pride...fuck, half the people under their thumbs ended up with nothing, not even a pulse. And I was almost envious of them.

If this was life, than death was nothing but a fucking freedom.

Half the time, I was almost tempted to take a stand: disobey the Higher Powers, and die 'like a man', even if I was a girl. Fuck, I was pretty sure I could even take one or two of them down; yeah, I may be a gutter rat, but gutter rats were fast and smart, brilliant fighters and survivors.

I could die with at least one of their fucking skulls between my hands.

But I wasn't brave.

I had no idea what in the name of Hell lay on the other side of that painful and drawn-out death, that...that poisoned veil. I had no idea what was beyond that. And I wasn't brave enough risking my pride on the off-chance of something better.

I meant...it could be worse - even if I wasn't sure if anything could be worse than this godforsaken factory - or hell, it could be just the same.

Why risk it?

Us gutter rats weren't stupid. 'Do not take an opportunity that you didn't know the outcome of': one of our most basic principles and lessons. It was dangerous to do something so short-sighted.

Stupid, even.

And it was how I got into this mess in the first place.

Young and naïve, I was fucking stupid and I signed a deal with the Devil...or, rather, the Higher Powers. Now I was here until someone signed me out or I died.

As an orphan with no friends outside of the factory: there was no way anyone was buying my freedom.

Maybe I could run away...but then they'd be coming from me. I could out-wit them, maybe, show them all I wasn't as naïve as they took me to be. But deep down I knew that that was my pride talking, not my brain.

Pride was a deadly sin here. Emphasis on the 'deadly' part.

"She's a useful worker." I heard one of the more important-looking Higher Powers say, looking to see the hooded figure talking to a man with bright red hair dressed all in black.

A smart black coat with tails over a black vest and black short, although there seemed to be dust of some kind on the jacket's shoulders...black pants that clung to his long legs, and a belt with a silver gem-encrusted skull buckle, sleek boots encasing his feet.

"She'd make a good breeder."

From one chance remark, my anger compelled me to violence; the way he'd referred to me as a breeder: a woman who got fucked over both literally and figuratively until she got pregnant, only to give birth and have her child taken away before the process repeated until she outlived her usefulness.

Then she was thrown away, usually dying within the month: only if they survived the first night.

No, not me.

Shrieking indignantly, I threw my work down to glare at the Higher Power:

"How dare you?! I'll fucking - "

My words were cut off as the red-haired man calmly interrupted:

"Yes, I'll take her."

"No!"

I would not become a breeder, I'd die first! I would not take part in that...in that injustice! That miserable and disgusting affair! I would not!

Desperate, I tried to run, and for a while it worked. I knew this place better than most, having worked here for years on this very floor, certainly better then the Higher Power and his red-headed friend, who I wagered had never even tried to run in their fucking lives.

Besides, I wasn't alone.

Every girl in this hell-hole feared the word 'breeder' as much as I did, and word of what had just happened spread quickly, meaning they were all too willing to try and aid my escape attempt: deliberately tripping my pursuers, shoving things in their way or moving things out of mine.

Within moments I was close to the widest-open window: my best chance of escape. Half a second more and I was half-way out...

When a strong, cold hand wrapped shackle-like around my ankle, yanking me down and throwing me back towards the floor.

My head smacked on the concrete with a dull thud, and I felt something warm coat the hair at the back of my head.

The edges of my vision started to blur even as I was roughly dragged up and carried from the room in someone's - probably that red-head man's - arms. Tears slipped out of my eyes silently as I thought over the last words I'd ever heard from a family member: my father's words...

We ride for glory in the ailing sunlight,

We ride for glory and for death before night...

Meaningless to anyone but me, him and his army battalion...

Riding and fighting for glory and survival, never giving in no matter what the hour and dying before we ever let evil overcome the light and darkness fell.

We ride for glory in the ailing sunlight,

We ride for glory and for death before night...

Deep down, I made a vow to myself as my vision blurred further and my hearing degenerated until it sounded like I was underwater. I would not become a breeder.

I would die first.

Let myself slip away: give up the fight.

Go to those lands beyond this poisoned veil that I lived- that I existed in...meet all those who I'd lost in this life.

In those lands beyond this poisoned veil...I'd be safe. Safer than I was at the moment, at least.

Not that was exactly difficult, anyway. Satan's own throne room would be safer than this place. And he was probably nicer than the Higher Powers too. And at thought, possibly my last ever one, I smiled.

Because even in death, I hadn't lost my bad attitude.

We ride for glory in the ailing sunlight,

We ride for glory and for death before night...

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