#7 Last Train


Fiction:

What’s the name? Crude?! That’s messed up. What’s your story? You fell. Okay.

Next. What’s your name? Sophi. You are awfully young. Your story? Female foeticide. Stupid! What’s wrong with this world.

That world, she corrected himself. That world. Past. She left that world fifteen years ago. Fifteen years which seem like fifteen million years. That long it has been. And only way to keep track of passage of time is because of these fresh batch of people.

Fresh batch of dead people. Dead people who come in thousands everyday.

Each with a different story. Fell off a building. Female foeticide. Bomb blast. Electrocuted. And each more gruesome than last. With the people’s souls still tingly with last few moments of life in them. Their agonies. Pain and screams contorting their faces.

A person with weaker heart would have fallen on the ground and sobbed. An alive person at least.

She was not alive. And her heart?! She would laughed at that if she knew how to. Remembered to. So when she boarded the train fifteen years ago, looking like these souls, agonized and sorrowful, she got a job offer. Another person had the job which does now.

She has to conduct the train of dead. Ask souls about their death. Their names and match it with list of incoming dead. Any body extra was probably an intruder trying to steal souls. Or get revenge. Or something superficial.

Death changes one’s perspective. Revenge, stealing seems like such paltry things. Everyone will end up here. Why bother.

She took the job. On one condition.

And she went to next booth.

Name? Hades?! She looked up. He is Hades. Her employer. One who made a deal with. He looked the same. Not a day older. Full in black. Tall and deadly handsome.

Deadly, really deadly.

He sat there with a new girl. Really hot girl. His type. New secretary maybe.

‘My lord?’

‘My dedicated worker. I think this train should be your last. You fulfilled your contract. I will go and find some other soul to do the duties. ‘

And with that he stood and walked out, closing the door on his way out. And the full force of what he said dawned on her.

There she stood, in her last train completing her contract. Means the condition was satiated.  That means…. The girl who looked hot was…. Was, IS her daughter.

(Post idea was from this fiction Post: Upstanding Citizens)

Thanks For Reading
Itsmayurremember

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