Art not mine

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

    "Alright, rise and shine, get up!"

A now fifteen year old Seven groaned as he opened his eyes, seeing the blurry image of his bed ceiling above him.

The cramp sleeping ledge he was in was only a foot tall, so it wasn't that much of a surprise to him when he sat up and his neck and shoulder cracked.

The sound of the others waking up greeter his ears, the sore muscles in their shoulders and backs aching as they all started to get up. Under him, he could hear Nosebleed shuffling out from her bed, already carefully climbing down. It wasn't that big of a surprise, Seven knew she was a morning person, unlike him.

Other kids and some of the few adults left in the Tail were mumbling good mornings to their neighbors and friends across from them, while some rubbed sleep out of their eyes.

Seven gave a small groan, already wanting to take a nap, even if laying on the slab of concrete he was forced to call a bed was very, very, very uncomfortable.

He could hear the sound of the Janitor coming in, pushing his stupid food cart that had whatever leftovers the upper class had for breakfast. The adults normally gave the kids the first few bites, so he wasn't the surprised when he saw what looked like to be skeletons crawling out of slots in a catacomb.

A dark green ragged hood poked up, dirty blond hair falling down like golden colored waterfalls. "C'mon, Sev, they got something besides bland grits this time!"

Seven only replied with a sigh. At least they had one good thing going for them today already. He could only handle nothing but what felt like chewing hard grains of sand for so long.

He rolled up, looking over to the girl. "I'll be right down, Two," he said, biting back a small yawn. Two smiled to him, before climbing down the bed shelves to get down back to the ground.

With a small heave, Seven sat up, the top of his head brushing against the slab of concrete above him, and started to climb down, giving a small flinch as a greetings to the floor's cold touch on his bare feet.

"Hey, Seven!" He turned as his name was called from behind him, meeting the young, rounded, cheerful face of Five. He was a bit younger than him, about ten or so. Seven remembered his older brother, Four, holding him when he was an infant when they first stormed the train.

Speaking of Four, he was helping standing by Nosebleed, helping pass out food to the other kids. He was covered head to toe in bandages, his eyes seeming to give a glow, literally and metaphorically, as he gave another child a small plate of what looked like grits and toast. Yay carbs.

Seven just gave him a small wave, walking passed a larger child who wore an orange tarp over her, blue eyes glowing in the shadows. Three was her name. She stood by the beds in the back of the Tail, quietly humming to herself as she held something in the shadows of her tarp covering.

The boy in blue stepped closer to her, catching her attention. "Good morning," she greeted, tone deep and unshaking, holding power in her calm voice.

Pointing to the small line the few children were left were making as they waited for their food, Seven looked to her, raising a brow under his unruly dark brown hair. Wasn't she planning on getting something eat?

Three shook her head, closing her eyes, the glowing blue dots disappearing before reappearing a second later. "Not now, I want to make sure everyone has their share first. I'm sure the adults would like a tiny bit more to eat as well," she answered, before going back to whatever she was doing under her tarp.

The faint sounds of wood hitting wood met his ears, and for a moment, was confused before it dawned on him. Knitting, that was what she was doing under there. Three liked to make small knitted presents for the younger kids, like a single mitten, or if she was lucky to get a lot of string, make small blankets for them.

He left without a word, rather looked up at the tight nooks where the adults and kids slept in. The poorly lit tail cart was a mess, the ground disgusting with dirt and messes from the occasional leaky pipes, trash drawing in whatever bugs that snuck on the train.

The scent of death and infection was something the kids grew nose blind to, it wasn't like the people in the upper cars really cared to take care of the bodies of the deceased. It was a wonder at times how they didn't die from breathing in the toxic chemicals that the bodies would give off before the Janitor finally got rid of them.

The kids slept near the middle of the sleeping section, parents and adults that still had a good fight in them slept towards the front, near the door, ready to defend friends and family. The very end of the train car was where the elderly and sickly people slept, too weak to fight if the time ever came for them to.

Seven finally came over to Nosebleed, who passed out the final serving ration to him. "Throat bothering you still?" She asked in a quiet tone.

Seven gave a nod. He didn't talk all that often, only giving small 'hi's and 'hey's when he need to catch people's attention. Talking was hard, especially after boarding the train and losing his mother. Didn't help he was recovering from an infection in his throat.

Nosebleed was always his voice for him, speaking up and doing all of chatting. She could read him like an open book, a knack of hers he guessed.

"Well, like I said before, warm food can help sooth it. If needed, we could put the plate over a lighter," she offered, giving a small smile to her friend. Seven smiled fondly towards her, typically Nosebleed, offering what little lighter fluid they had left in their lighter to warm his food for his health needs. If it wasn't for the fact they were in a jail cell with no hope of living outside of it, he would have gave a chuckle at the thought.

He shook his head no, he was fine with the cold grits and soggy toast. He carried his plate off to the bunks, taking a seat at the bottom of them. Shuffling was heard behind him, and when he looked over, he saw an messy orange jacket, a small pair of white earmuffs around the boy's neck, black, greasy hair covering his head. It was One.

One was normally a rather angry kid, snappy and easily hurt by words. He hated his name, and Seven and the others understand why. He was named One after being picked for the final spot for the children. His sister was ripped from his arms before he could even try to defend them and was casted out of the train. Seven knew he blamed himself for what happened, but it was ten years ago...

Well, not like he had much room to talk. He still missed Six, despite her disappearing about seven or so years ago. He didn't like to think of what could have happened to her, rather he tried to focus on what time they had spent together.

He rememberer her messy black hair that contrasted against the cream color of her parka hood lining, and the rubbery smooth material of her coat on his arm when her, him, and Nosebleed had their small sleepovers (which was just them bunking together on one of their bunks).

He couldn't remember her eyes, they were hidden behind her bangs that she always had covering them. But, there was no forgetting her snarky, pointy grins with a mouth full of oddly sharp, dangerous fang like teeth.

Seven shook his head, he couldn't get too caught up in his thoughts. He looked back to One, patting the bunk floor, making the other boy look, glaring over his shoulder.

Seven held up his small plate, offering some of the food to him. One shook his head. "Already ate, Two dropped it off," he answered in a quiet snap.

Oh, well... at least he was okay. He turned back around, taking a few small bites of his toast. Yuck, too much butter...

The Janitor carried the food cart out, long arms reaching the tall cart railing with ease. The door closed behind him, sealing shut, once again leaving them trapped in their prison once more.

There was no use in trying to break out. Last time the adults tried, it didn't turn out the well. Large, armed, and well train personal took care of them, if you catch the drift.

Still, most of the kids seem to agree, this place wasn't a place for them to grow up in, neither was the outside frozen wasteland.

He finished his food shortly after finishing his thoughts, taking the plate to where the others stacked theirs, in a corner for the Janitor to collect them.

The sound of cheering made him turned, seeing Five toss a small red ball between him, Four, and Two. The small boy ran to the side, jumping and catching the ball in his hands, giggling and tossing it to Two, who called out to catch his attention.

The three laughed, continuing to play catch between them. One was sitting on his bunk, watching them with a small scrawl, Nosebleed joining the playing children, while Seven took a seat nearby. His hand went into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small instrument bringing it up to the poor lighting.

It was a small brass harmonica, something one of the deceased adults had him. Seven took it, not finding a reason not to, the owner was dead so who was there to fight him?

He gotten good at playing it after some time. He pressed it up to his lips, blowing into the small windpipes, an old timey noise being created from it. It wasn't a specific song, just something on the whim that sounded decent to him.

The kids continued to play, and before long, Three came over to them all, handing small gifts she had made. Five had been given a gray pair of mittens, his small hands snug and cozy in the yarn.

Four and Two were given socks, something neither of them complained about, graciously taking them and thanking their eldest sister figure. Four had white socks, while Two was given gray socks, seemingly made from the same material as Five's mittens.

One was given a black beanie, which went well with his earmuffs. He promptly went back to being in a sour mood shortly after though.

And finally, Nosebleed was given a small bracelet from whatever materials Three had left. "Sorry, it's not much, but I thought you'd like," Three said.

Nosebleed smiled brightly to her, seeing the black knitted bracelet contrast drastically against her snow white skin. "It's amazing, Three, thank you!" She gave the other a hug, the older chuckling and giving a small pat on the back to her friend.

"It's was no problem," she said, before seeming to timidly look to Seven, "I'm sorry, Seven, but I didn't haven enough string to make you anything..."

Seven looked up from his harmonica playing, giving her a small smile. It was fine, he didn't need anything.

Three looked down, before pointing to him. "I could fix your scarf, the ends look like they are coming undone."

The boy in blue looked down. Admittedly, he won't let anyone touch his scarf, he didn't want to get it dirty or ripped; but now that Three pointed it out, the ends did look a bit longer than normal.

He reached up, taking it off. He shivered as he felt the cold air graze his skin with a frozen finger, goosebumps rising along his skin.

He handed it carefully to Three, who took it gently from him. She gave a nod to him, before going to where she had previously been to work on the article of clothing she had been entrusted with.

Seven looked back at his harmonica, and noticed Nosebleed coming to sit by him out of the corner of his eyes. He smiled to her softly, taking a small breath to start playing again.

Suddenly, the Tail jumped to life as heavy knocking-- no, pounding -- came from the door. Seven and Nosebleed stood at attention, looking over at the iron door a bit way from them.

Adults started to move to stand, gathering around one another as they seemed too waited with baited breath as to what in the world was happening.

The door opened, the large guards of the train stepping in, guns in their hands as they marched in. Adults stood, on alert of what had just suddenly stormed into their car.

Seven felt his mouth dry, eyes widening as he saw the shiny gun barrels. For a moment, he thought the guards were sent to take care of them for good. Instead, they seemed to lead a person to the Tail instead.

"I'm looking for someone," a voice spoke, loud and demanding, full of authority and stable in tone.

Adults started murmuring to one another, seemingly confused by the person speaking. Seven tried to see, but from the multiple legs in his way, his vision was limited.

Nosebleed tried to look as well, caning her neck to look over. "Who is it? They sound young."

Seven shrugged his shoulder, before reaching and taking her hand. Together, they made it close to the front, meandering through the forest of legs that stood in their way.

"His name is Seven, I was sent by Thin Man to come get him. Where is he?"

Nosebleed let out a sharp gasp, letting go of Seven's hand, running forward. Seven looked up, finally seeing what had made his friend gasp.

Short black hair, pale skin, a rather uncomfortable uniform she seemed forced to wear. If it hadn't been for her sudden change of expression from business like to glee as Nosebleed tackled her into a hug, he would have mistaken the girl as some stranger.

But it wasn't a stranger. It was Six.

Seven smiled towards her, a sudden rush of happiness and relief sweeping over him. He ran over, joining the two girls in their hug.

"You're alive!" Nosebleed cheered. Six gave a small laugh at her statement, nodding her head.

"Yep. I don't have long though, so I have to cut this short. Sev, Nosebleed, I need your help with something,"

Nosebleed looked a bit taken back. "Wait, Six, you meant missing for like, almost eight years. I want to know what happened to you."

Six shook her head. "No time, I'll explain later. C'mon, we got to go to upper cars ASAP."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Finished - Mar. 31st, 2021

I'm really tired, but I hope everyone enjoyed!

It's actually really late and I have school so I have to cut this part short.

Take care!