Breed and Burn: Faceless

Chapter 19- Message Man (I)

Taking a deep breath, Axel closed his eyes. With a frisson of guilt, he explained to the colourless, empty faces that they wouldn't be able to go to the bathroom for the next few hours. They made a few feeble jokes but none of them had the energy to question or conflict. Although he was supposedly helping, Axel's emotions were multiplied into something hard and metallic. The slight guilt resonated in his head until it was so overwhelming it rushed through him, grey and with its own blood, breath and warmth to it.

To try and clear the fog in his head, Axel helped Roman hand out the packets of food. Perhaps the cold made it so it didn't matter that they were perishable. Time was beginning to fold in on itself. With no way to tell what the time was, they guess roughly were the eighteen-hour mark lie so they wouldn't waste the quickly depleting food supplies. Each time, Roman announce they should eat the intervals in between felt even shorter than the last. Either the festering sickness was also making Roman feel guilty since, despite his determination to listen to Thorne's orders, food was the only thing that he had to offer. It was the only energy they had that got them through the days.

Axel hadn't eaten yet although had been offered it several times by Roman. Restlessly, Roman attempted to lighten the mood but his own confidence was hollow. His eagerness tore through his false hope façade like scissors through paper. His own voice sounded breathy and lost and on the verge of giving up. There was a short pause.

"Tough crowd," was all he said before he jumped up through the trapdoor.

Everything inside of Axel was shaky and squirming into knots and he knew the food wouldn't sit well. Roman seemed to be the designated food guy. Everyone seemed to take on their own role, even if it was as simple as making sure no one felt isolated. No one wanted Haven's death again.

Death stalked the train carriage. It felt and smelt like death. The temperature dropped and soft serration of footsteps seemed to be coming from everywhere even when no one was standing. Perhaps there were others on the train, just like them, kidnapped and dehumanized. There was a growing knot of tension in Axel's stomach.

Walking down the long, narrow corridor that everyone seemed to take refuge in was miserable and disheartening, to say the least. Sickness was intensifying. Most were shivering violently, too weak to move, their eyes sunken and skin sallow. Sage and Trent were among the sick but Thorne was nowhere to be seen.

The few that weren't ill had taken sanctuary in the main carriage. Morosely, they decided that watching their friends suffer from no way to relieve them of their torment was a lot worse than possibly being killed by Seven or tortured to death with its endless chattering. Much to their appreciation, Noble's corpse had been carried into the furthest corner of the dark room. The smell of it was truly disturbing, similar to rotting meat. It was cold smell and heavy. The entire expanse of the carriage reeked of it. Although sickening, the smell did dissolve in the hallway and main carriage death's presence still lingered on. Only Thorne, Axel, Archer and Roman weren't suffering from any effects of cold but it still chilled them to the bone and made their blood run cold.

Slow blinking, blank eyes, stared at him as he walked past. Heads tilted side to side to see who would watch Seven but they were all so filled with misery and loss Axel hated to see who would be forced out from behind the thick rugs they were huddled in rows like wrinkles in an old robe.

Axel wasn't the only one dying.

"How come you're not dying like the rest of us, you lucky bugger," croaked Sage with his eyes half open. He sounded like he had carried great weight for many miles. It was then followed by similar disheartened remarks and a hacking continuous cough followed by a sharp inhale. "At least think about joining the club- for me? You don't know how bloody depressing it is, waiting to do, whilst the lucky bastards..."