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Black smoke rose as the engine chugged. There was chatter and laughter heard in all of the separate boxes. There were thousands of people on the single train, all from different religion and ethnic groups. The passengers ranged from one year to eighty-three.

Corbel and Cait Dest were having a blast playing a rather difficult game of chess on Cait's part. Cait, being the younger of the twins and also being a college dropout (and the family disappointment), was given some expert recommendations from her brother Corbel, who went to Yale and graduated in the top ten of his class and a few years early. That of course doesn't have to deal with the fact that his family was rather rich, but because of his eidetic memory. It means that he can remember a large quantity of information with amazing detail. Cait, being her usual stubborn self, wouldn't take the suggestions. Corbel gave her a cocky smirk and leaned back after he moved his king with a simple "Checkmate". This earned him a glare and an order "rematch" from Cait

Whitney, whom is a couple months along in her pregnancy, with a slight baby bump, is sitting in a window seat, reading her favorite book. Her short and stubby fingers flew over the pages as she read paragraph after paragraph, page after page. Within a couple of minutes she finished a chapter and put her rather large book on the seat beside her before taking a short drink of her apple juice, since she could no longer have alcohol, especially since she is rather terrified of the thing she is currently sitting on. Which is also the reason why she brought her favorite book, to take her mind off the man made machine she's riding. Setting her drink back down and picking up her favorite book, Whitney drowns her surroundings as she is drawn back into the pages of a new life.

Everything is normal and as it should be. That is until the train director's rather rapidly and quite timid voice came over the speakers that are spread all throughout the large train. Chaos spread throughout the whole train, people trying to get to safety. Children everywhere were crying and screeching. There was pushing and shoving, arms and legs everywhere.

All of a sudden there was a deafening sound, the vibrations of the impact affecting all around, followed by the burst of light and burning flames. Within seconds everyone was dead, or barely alive. It was quiet, too quiet. The very pregnant mother in the back of the second box with a set of twins now lay on the ground covered by a large piece of steel from some unknown part of the train. Her twins lay tossed several feet away from their mother with joints and bones bent in unusual places; their chests unmoving and eyes opened in shocked despair. People were littered in the following meters of the train boxes. The only sound came from the crackling fire that was gnawing on the deceased.

******

It took the ambulance and detectives 15 minutes to get to the scene. People wearing blue and white gas suits were holding radiation detectors. The surrounding citizens and the loved ones of the victims were hanging on with what strength they have left; some had none and were weeping in their families arms, held tightly and securely. News channel vans came to a quick halt behind the yellow "DO NOT CROSS" sign that stood out like a sore thumb against the dark red of blood and the black smoke that was wafting through the air. There was a cloud of despair as the bodies were bagged and loaded in a truck to take to the nearest cremation center. In the chaos, the soft exclamation "There's one alive!" could be heard in the background. It didn't take long for people to run over and notice that there was indeed, a barely breathing body.

After all of the bodies were bagged only 16 were deemed alive. Those that survived the collision were rushed to the hospital for urgent care. Some didn't make it that far and took their last breath in the back of the ambulance with surrounding medics on the sides doing what they could. A few were able to make it to the hospital, but didn't live very long after administered; whether it was during surgery or during their recovering time. Less than half of the people were alive in the hospital after a few days, the most critical and were considered likely to live on. This is if they weren't in a coma or any other similar occasions. The wounds were all very serious, but the decision to live on was nobody else's but those that were in the hospital beds.

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⏰ Last updated: Mar 02, 2017 ⏰

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