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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀EXCERPT FOR CHAPTER 2.
tw: mentions of bombings
The train eventually came to a stop, and while normally we would’ve been prohibited from getting up and leaving the train until told to, Kassandra let Carrie and I leave early, but we had to wait for Noemie to return since she wasn’t considered eligible for that privilege.
When Noemie had returned to us–which took admittedly a long while due to the amount of people–she looked absolutely seething and wouldn’t say a word to us.
Kassandra exited the train and we gave her our coloured slips. She marked it down on the back to signal we’ve been on the train before, and she tipped her hat to me before going back into the train and waiting for the next batch of passengers.
We exited the train station and peered up at the sign, which stated Festerchapel Station. I immediately sighed in frustration.
While Festerchapel wasn’t too bad of a city to end up in–definitely not as bad as Sheyin–it was still a bad place for me due to it being the place I had last seen my sister in.
But we were in the western half of it, which was close to the area I had been in before the first bomb hit.
Carrie frowned, seemingly plagued by bad memories as well. Noemie still didn’t speak, crossing her arms and trying her hardest to avoid looking at us–or anybody, for that matter.
I glanced left and right before going down the steps as all three of us left the station and headed into the demolished city that I once used to call my home.
This place I had spent my life in before the bombing–and I didn’t even get to experience my teen years with the city that was Festerchapel before it was bombed mercilessly by our own president.
Festerchapel was quiet, a stark contrast to how it was just five years ago, the only sounds being from the whistling of the wind. Some fire crackled in the distance, likely a bonfire from a group.
The nuclear summer didn’t affect Festerchapel as badly as it did with Sheyin, so I only felt a mild burning sensation at the nape of my neck. Carrie repeatedly kept scratching at her arms, clearly unsettled.
“You good, Carrie?”
“Oh- uhm, yeah. Just shaken up from the train ride.”
“Yeah. That shit sucks.”
“That Kassandra lady is so fucking bossy.” Noemie grumbled.
“Noemie, you find everyone bossy.” Carrie retorted.
I had to hold in a laugh as Noemie growled at Carrie and I could see her hands shaking as she balled them into fists, her nails digging into her palms.
“You’re so damn lucky I’m not going to punch the shit out of you right now.” Noemie snapped.
“Noemie. Stop.” I glared at her. It was nice seeing her get riled up, but I really couldn’t afford having to split her and Carrie up because she got mad over a remark.
The three of us began walking forward again, Noemie lagging behind as always, a scowl permanently etched on her face.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ DAY 1898. ❞
tw: mentions of weapons, minor wounds, blood, and mentions of gunshots
The sun. That’s all I could currently focus on. The heat of our nuclear summer had spun me into a daze. A pounding migraine was tormenting me, but I tried my best to ignore it.
Noemie, Carrie, and I were inside a drugstore that we had found–it wasn’t the most ideal “living space,” but until the nuclear summer passed, which was in a week, we needed shelter from this horrendous environment.
Noemie was in the corner, huffing. She looked over to where I was sitting, which was on the counter.
“Callie, why the hell did we have to go here? Couldn’t we have walked a few more miles to find somewhere else?” she complained, readjusting her strap on her top that was beginning to slip due to sweat.
“There was nowhere for a good ten miles, Noemie. This is our best bet if we’re going to survive. Unless you want to walk ten miles in over 110 degree weather, I suggest you shut the fuck up.” I snapped, irritated due to my migraine. She had been complaining the entire time we’d been here, and it was pissing me the hell off.
Carrie simply frowned at Noemie, clearly agreeing with my statement. On the other hand, Noemie looked to be seething at my reply and growled under her breath.
I blinked outside of the large hole in the drugstore wall, which were mostly made of glass. Shards were everywhere, some coated with drying blood. Graffiti was on the only walls of the building, marked with the words “THIS FREEDOM TASTES LIKE SHIT” in spaced out letters.
I was beginning to get pissed off again by my migraine, so I walked over to the glass cabinets that held the over-the-counter medicine, and smashed through the glass with my fist. I wasn’t going to bother looking for the key to the box.
I looked down at my hand, which was now bleeding due to nicks by the glass. I shrugged it off and grabbed a bottle of Ibuprofen, dry-swallowing it before I slammed the bottle down on the counter.
“Please be careful, Callie.” Carrie frowned.
“I know, I know. Don’t gotta remind me.” I grumbled in response.
The sun was beginning to get to me, itching at my skin that was erupting into rashes from the heat. I sat down next to Carrie, resting my head against her shoulder.
“You have any idea how long it’ll be ‘till whoever’s ‘ere in Sheyin finds us and tries to murder us?”
“I don’t know. There doesn’t seem to be too many people out and about right now. You know, considering the heat.” Carrie replied, fidgeting with the bracelets on her wrist.
“True.” I responded.
Carrie wiped the sweat off her forehead before she got up and peeked out of the door of the drugstore, looking left and right before she looked back at me.
“I think we should head to the train station. The coast seems clear enough. Plus, I don’t think anyone would want to try and attack us and risk their skin burning off.”
I yawned and nodded in acknowledgement to her. I readjusted the strap on my undershirt, as it was beginning to stick to my skin and was awfully itchy now.
I got up and looked at Noemie once, not bothering to ask her to get up and come along. But Carrie did anyway, her tone ever kind. I somehow wondered how she could be nice to Noemie, even when she got yelled at by her sometimes.
Noemie seemed to bite back a snarky reply, before she subtly rolled her eyes and got up as well. The three of us stepped over the glass shards and began to walk outside.
The sun immediately hit us–and it burned like hell. I bit my lip to ignore the searing pain on my exposed collarbone and shoulders.
Carrie gestured for us to follow her as we turned the corner to go past the other shops on the sidewalk. Something that used to be a street was near us–all it was now was a patch of dirt with some pieces of the concrete still remaining.
It was quiet, and it unsettled me. All of us usually were kept up at night by the gunshots and shouting of other groups being pissed at trespassers. But now, it was dead quiet. And I took that as a warning to tread lightly.
I heard a footstep that wasn’t our own and immediately froze. Carrie did too and stopped Noemie from walking any further, which earned Carrie a scowl from her.
Carrie cautiously walked a bit further, gesturing for us to stay back. She looked through the gaps in between the buildings and her body language went rigid.
She backed up near where we were.
“There’s a group here. They look mad. We must’ve woken them up.”
I dug my teeth harder into my bottom lip as I felt my body become cold. I was scared, terrified–Sheyin wasn’t like any other of the cities in Hypoxia. For years it had been infamous for being a hotspot for crime, and the recent events only ticked off the residents more.
I forced myself to walk up to where Carrie had been previously and peeked between the buildings, and there were two women with automatic rifles clutched to their hips. Both of them looked equally pissed off.
I took a deep breath and urged both Noemie and Carrie to follow me as we tried our best to stay out of sight of the armed group.
I could see the train station up ahead, and I began speed walking. I ended up stepping on a plastic bottle and a crinkle loudly rang out. Carrie yelped in surprise and that was when all three of us knew we had to run.
Carrie was the first to take off, and I followed second. Gunshots started, bullets whizzing past us as we tried to escape the attackers. Noemie yelled some curses at them. The gunshots faded off into the distance as they finally lost our trail.
Only then did I realise that I was still biting my lip. I let go of it and it began prickling blood around the area. I winced at the pain now present. Carrie stood there, shaking as she tried to catch her breath.
Noemie, on the other hand, just looked straight up pissed and was glaring daggers, as if blaming me for this attack. I gave her the middle finger and she gave me a look like she was about to beat the shit out of me.
I glanced over and the train station wasn’t too far ahead. I nodded to Carrie and then to the direction of the station. She followed my gaze and let out a breath of relief.
Noemie reluctantly followed us as we continued our walk to the station. I felt my legs ache as they settled down from the sudden sprint.
We got to the train station, taking the damaged steps up to it. Sheyin’s train station was by far the worst. It was the most damaged, and we had to be careful in case people were hiding in the building–blinded by craze and ready to shoot at any given moment.
Thankfully, there hadn’t seemed to be any of those around as we entered one of the boarding areas. It was not too packed, but people were still blocking our way as we maneuvered up to the train.
At the front was a woman with the Hypoxia Railways uniform, the side of her entire body concealed in a nasty burn that disfigured the right half of her face. A flicker of recognition went into her eyes when we approached.
“Welcome back, Cal.” the woman spoke, her voice gravelly.
“Oh–hey, Kassandra. Didn’t recognise you for a second.”
“You kids takin’ the train to leave?”
“Mhm. Sheyin’s getting aware that we’ve been hidin’ from them and a lot of them are very unhappy about their missed kill opportunity.”
Kassandra hissed under her breath, “Alright. I’ll make sure y’all get out of here.”
“Thanks, Kas.”
Kassandra patted me on the head and gave me, Noemie, and Carrie a coloured slip to indicate that we were part of a group.
The slips, well, in short–they were to distinguish groups versus solo travellers. Pandora didn’t like the supposed “gang activity” happening in core cities so she put in regulations so that groups couldn’t travel in the same row on the train, and in more severe cases, couldn’t even travel in the same train.
Any groups were given coloured slips of the same colour–to identify them as part of that group. If someone with the same colour of slip as another was in the same row, they were warned and sent to the back of the train.
Kassandra was one of the few people I still respected that worked for the Hypoxian government. I met her before I had met Noemie and Carrie when I was forced to take the train away from Festerchapel the day of the second bombings.
Noemie gave Kassandra a disgusted look and I shot back with a glare.
“Do not give her that look, Noemie. I will personally break your arm.”
Noemie gave me an incredulous look. Carrie looked concerned. I shrugged and just entered the train. Kassandra didn’t seem to notice either of our remarks, anyway. Both of them followed me and we sat in different rows–except for Noemie, of course. But that was her issue, not mine.
Before the train ride started, Kassandra closed the train doors and surveyed the passengers before telling a few of them to get up and go to the back.
“I don’t want to go to the back! This is bullshit!” I heard Noemie cry out.
“Please calm down, ma’am. This train ride is only going to be thirty minutes or so.” Kassandra responded.
“I don’t care! Just because fuckin’- Callie is in this row doesn’t mean I have to go to the back!”
“You made the conscious decision to sit in the same row as her. You are at fault. Now please go to the back. I do not want to deal with your attitude this early in the morning and definitely not while the nuclear summer is still going on.”
Noemie hissed and stormed off to the back, her face beet red. It was almost satisfying seeing how nobody was willing to deal with her shit, cause I definitely wasn’t ever going to be.
Though, I was getting a bit ticked off. The noise level inside of the train was increasing, and so were the types of noises. I was hearing arguing, plastic bags, food bags–which weren’t even allowed on the train–, and people trying to make space.
I heard more arguing as people challenged Kassandra’s request to put the food away. Some physically showed their anger as they were asked to take off their masks–those being the gangs Pandora had been worried about, but there had been so little of them recently due to the mask rule that I never saw them outside of Dahlia.
Dahlia was one of the gang leaders that I knew. She wasn’t one of the bad ones–she took in kids that were orphaned or threatened by their parental figures in their prior groups–but she still was considered a villainess due to her infamy of attacking groups and forcing them to hand over their resources.
I looked down at the slip in my hand. It was purple–lilac, to be exact. I don’t know if it was just the need to be vigilant, but I realised I tend to notice the small things more nowadays, like the certain shade of colours or how a building is just slightly swaying over.
The train began to move, and I think that was when the worst of it happened. People kept squishing me between them. Some glared at me. Some even made ‘watching you’ gestures at me.
I slumped down in my seat as I began to get overwhelmed by the increasing noise. Even a pin drop felt as sharp as a knife. I tapped my foot against the floor in quick succession. The person next to me shoved me.
“Ey, kid. Stop that. It’s annoying me.”
I growled at them. They feigned fear and their hands flew up, palms shown.
“Woah, no need to be so feisty. Just told ya to stop.”
“How about I tell you to leave me the hell alone?”
“Yikes. ‘kay.”
I slammed my head back against the seat. This was going to be hell. I just knew it.
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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀❝ WHEN THE CRASH HAPPENED. ❞
tw: bombings
It was supposed to be a normal Tuesday that February. It was around 3:00 PM and I had just been dismissed from school. My older sister Harmony had been walking me home, keeping me close to her.
I remember Festerchapel being loud and crowded, but it didn't bother me at the time. I actually enjoyed the noise.
After we had gone down Spring Street, I noticed the sky had turned an ugly gray. But not the gray that you see before a storm comes, it was darker than that. It was like an oil spill in the sky, spiraling into different clouds.
I didn’t pay much mind to it, simply clinging to my sister more as we continued our way home. Eventually, Harmony had noticed the clouds and stopped, narrowing her eyes at it. She seemed as skeptical as I was.
She shrugged and encouraged me to keep walking, but I stared warily at the ever-darkening clouds, the air smelling like thick smoke as I began coughing violently.
Harmony looked concerned, trying to see what was wrong with me as she crouched down.
“Hey, hey, you good, Cal?” she asked, but I cowered into her arms as she looked up into the sky, now noticing that the gray had now completely engulfed the sky. Then, almost instantly, everything went downhill for the next twenty minutes.
A large atomic bomb hit the center of Festerchapel, a deafening explosion following it as smoke erupted and spread rapidly, the shockwave knocking me into my sister, who was just as shocked as I was.
When my senses returned, all I could hear was screaming and crying, and all I could smell was the sickening taste of smoke. I could barely see anything past the raging flames as they towered over the city, engulfing buildings and homes in mere seconds.
My sister had scooped me up almost instinctively as she ran away from the rapidly approaching smoke, covering my nose and mouth from it.
Everything after that is a blur, and I'm glad it is. My sister and I, along with the few survivors of the sudden attack, had evacuated to the eastern side of Festerchapel. News had spread everywhere of the bombing, and nobody had any clue who did it.
Harmony and I were fine for the next 6 months, safely kept away from the demolished other side of the city. Then another bomb hit and I was completely cut off from my sister.
I barely could see her through the crowd of people trying to escape the flames. I cried out for my sister right before I was shoved to continue moving forward.
The people evacuating Festerchapel had no set destination, they just wanted to get out. And so did I. But not without my sister. I finally managed to return to Festerchapel hours after my forced departure, and to my chagrin, I couldn't find my sister.
No trace of her was anywhere, and I just broke down right then and there. I barely could comprehend the fact I was being forced to defend myself at the age of ten.
For months on end, reports of bombings would pop up from all over Hypoxia. I felt sick hearing each and every report. Then everything went silent one day. All radios, all televisions, everything just went into silence.
I found out a year after my displacement that our newly elected president, Pandora Azrael, was the reason for all of this. That was the first time I felt true betrayal from within my own nation.
For the next four years, I had fought my way through several cities in Hypoxia. Ever since the second bombing, everyone became antsy and trigger-happy.
It was sickening how many times I nearly got killed because some maniacs thought they'd get something out of shooting a damn child.
Hypoxia has been becoming worse by the years. Not just politically, but physically. Everything is decimated to the point that there was a time we couldn’t even recognise which cities are what anymore.
Two years ago, I had found two other survivors that weren't actively trying to kill me, Carrie Woods, a 15 year old, and Noemie Leilani, an 16 year old. We formed a group and decided to stick together.
But I just can't help but think of what would've happened if Pandora just never dropped the bombs. None of this would've happened, and none of this would've been needed. Fuck you, Pandora. Fuck. You.
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welcome to a modern tragedy, a series of novels that tells the story of a nation named hypoxia that's doomed by a tyrannical leader.
this series is not for everyone as it includes themes of: suicide, self harm, violence, death, murder, and bombings. additional trigger warnings will be added at the start of chapters.
a modern tragedy is inspired off, but not completely taken from, the singer grandson's a modern tragedy EPs. X X X . none of the inspiration belongs to me.
© 2024, @sinnerclair
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