Stepping out into the chill night air was like walking into another world. There were cracks in the pavement she hadn't noticed before, uneven trees and peeling paint that her eyes had glossed over without really taking them in. At night the streets were quiet, empty, dark. Not the bright and social lanes she was used to. It was better though; this felt less forced. This felt real.

Gritting her teeth, she jogged up the street, her anger carrying her towards the train. The cruel steps were a trip hazard, but she'd taken them so many times she didn't even have to look down. The station was empty. A light breeze blew a piece of plastic around the cavernous space. She watched it, feeling more and more stupid as her anger began to ebb.

Shaking her head to clear it, she pressed down on her bracelet. The face burst into light and threw the world around her into shadows. It read 02:24. Early morning. Great. She would be lucky to catch the final train of the night. A sharp beep sounded through the air as the tunnel began to glow, growing brighter with every second.

"Speak of the devil," she muttered, frowning as the words left her lips. They felt foreign, unnatural; as though someone else had said them. She had meant to say 'Controller' like the phrase she'd grown up hearing, but the word 'devil' came out instead. She had no idea what it meant, or where she had heard it, but there was something familiar about it that she couldn't put her finger on.

She stepped inside, flinching as the doors closed behind her with a click. The train was empty. Though it was made up of many compartments, hers was the only one with a light on. The shadows swirled and fought as she stared into their depths, praying this was all a dream.

The compartment was cold without the comfort of other people, but she felt more at ease than she had in awhile. Maybe it was the lack of crowds and strangers, which caused her throat to tighten as though she was being suffocated, or maybe it was the silence. Either way, her anger had almost completely disappeared.

The light pitter patter of footsteps pulled her back to the present. Eyes whipping from side to side, her gaze settled on the shadows to her left. There was a suggestion of movement in its depths, formless and indistinct. Her heart began to race as the hairs on her arms rose.

"Hello?" She got to her feet, voice shaking, brows furrowed. "Is anyone there?"

The floor creaked to her right. She whipped around. Though she couldn't see a face or a body, there was something there; a presence of some sort. It was like waking up in the middle of the night to get a glass of water and knowing exactly where your bedside table was despite it being pitch black. An intuition.

Somehow, she found the courage to speak. "I-I don't want any trouble." Her tone rose a few octaves at the end, pleading with whatever was hiding in the shadows. Whoever, she corrected herself. It wasn't a scary creature from one of her novels; it was just a person, and people in Arabel didn't hurt each other, that much she knew for sure. In that frozen moment between fight and flight, she looked at her reflection in the glass window, and saw the dark figure behind her.

"That isn't up to you."

A sharp blow to the back of her knees knocked her off her feet. Pain rocketed up her wrists as she threw them out to catch herself. Gasping, she struggled to her feet, slipping on the smooth floor as a hand yanked her ankle backwards. Arms snaked around her waist and lifted her off her feet, and though she struggled it barely made a dent on the thick man behind her. As he flung her around to face the window, she took him in; face hidden behind a hood, broad shoulders, and a head that brushed the ceiling.

"Help me! Someone help me please-"

The grip on her waist slackened as a hand clamped down on her mouth, muffling her shout. He tasted of sweat and soot and blood. Kyra resisted the urge to gag.

"Come now, sweetheart. Please tell me you aren't stupid enough to believe anyone can hear you." The man's breath was warm against her neck. It only made her struggle more.

"Let. Me. Go." On the last muffled word Kyra ripped her arm out of his grip and jabbed it backwards. A sickening crunch rewarded her as she dropped to her knees, grimacing as a sharp pain ran up her thighs.

The man kicked out, sending Kyra spralling. Her chin hit the floor roughly as hands gripped her waist, moving from there to her shoulders and finally to her wrists, all the while his foot kept her pressed against the dirty train floor. The man grabbed both hands in one of his and lifted her with the other, throwing her up against the window. She held back a scream.

"Where do you keep the goods, sweetheart?" His voice was rough like nails on a chalkboard. His hand traced her body in a way that made her sick, but she gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, praying it would all be over soon.

"W-what do you mean? I don't have any!" A raspy breath left Kyra's lips as something warm trickled down her neck, sticky and yet runny all at once, and filled her nose with its metallic scent. Blood.

"Don't give me that. All the pretty little rich girls have pretty little necklaces and pretty little rings. Hand them over and I'll let you leave alive."

"I-I really don't have anything. I left home with my coat and my shoes, that's it!"

The man yanked her jacket backwards, pulling her shoulders and a small chunk of hair with it. A cry almost slipped through her pursed lips but she held it in, blinking back tears as he shoved her against the glass again. She would not give him the satisfaction of hearing her pain.

"Lying won't help you, though neither will the truth, not anymore. Didn't anyone ever tell you the truth is treason in a world of lies?"

Without her thick coat the early winter air pierced her skin like knives. Kyra shivered and half turned to watch as he ruffled through her coat. If only she could see under the hood, she thought, if only she knew who he was. It wouldn't change the situation, but at least she would know something for certain, for even the smallest bit of knowledge could put her mind to rest. But that thought quickly disappeared and was replaced with another one as the train let out a sharp beep.

"Next stop: Factory Station 3."

The man stopped ruffling in time to turn and face the door. It opened into darkness. The cabin was silent. Not quite, Kyra thought. Senses sharpened by adrenaline, Kyra took a breath, listening to the wind whistling through the station.

A dart flew out of the darkness and hit the man's arm. He stumbled into Kyra - smacking her head against the window - as he fell in a heap on the floor. A groan escaped Kyra's lips as she slid down onto the seat, her head pounding something awful - as though she was the one hit with a dart. She wanted to run, knew it was her only hope, but her brain was foggy and her limbs sore. More than anything she wanted to lie there and sleep, to give into the dark spots clouding her vision.

A pair of dark figures entered the train, each dressed in black and white; something clicked in her brain - Enforcers. Another person followed up the rare and hurried to her side, while the others descended over the man. The man spluttered and crawled to the side with one arm, pawing at the dart in his arm as he stared unseeingly at the ceiling.

"Kyra? Hey, Kyra, can you hear me?" A face swam before her eyes, and she blinked, trying to decipher the features enough to find something familiar.
Her hands were shaking as she lifted them and pushed back the cloak, her hand lingering on the boy's soft cheek, before dropping to rest on his shoulder. Brown eyes stared back into hers.

"Ethan?"

The boy smiled as he put his hands under Kyra's arms and pulled her to her feet. "That's right, Kyra. How are you feeling? Can you stand?"

"I..." She looked between the ground, the train platform, and then back up into Ethan's eyes. "I think I have a concussion."

Her ears popped and suddenly all sounds and sights were blurred, like a mask had been placed over her head that muffled her senses. The room spun - or maybe Kyra did? Her vision clouded as a heaviness weighed on her brain, causing her eyes to close and her body to give in to the darkness.

— author's note —

Hey guys! Sorry for the two part chapter, I didn't want to subject you to a nearly four thousand word chapter in one part. XD

What did you think about the second half of the chapter? What about Kyra's behaviour and James' injuries?

Let me know your thoughts! Like always, thank you so much for reading. x