break. Both drivers could see each other's faces and their faces told the story of how they were to both die. Sam and George knew there was absolutely no chance either of them would survive the collision yet, neither one gave up hope.
George thought of his wife, who only just that morning reminded him they were going to visit their neighbours for drinks. Sam thought of his family and how he had promised them all a holiday but he had been unable to get time off from work to make it happen. The last thing that George felt was that he was not ready to die. The last thought Sam had, was that he had let his family down. They stared at each other in horror and helplessness.
The piercing screech of metal drowned out the terrified screams of the commuters waiting on the platform. The freight trains' express speed was too great to prevent the impact and both trains slammed into each other with a sickening, metallic moan. The impact was so intense that it raised both engines and their front carriages from their tracks in a horrific, twisted arc.
Both drivers were killed instantaneously, along with all of the passengers in the front passenger carriage. The screaming was one long shrill siren, made up from the commuters anguished shrieks and cries. Many survived in the passenger train's second carriage but most sustained a variety of injuries. Some were severely mangled and others were meshed into folds of metal from the train. Blood spilled from mangled bodies, disconnected limbs and exposed organs. The horror of the victims was intensified by seeing the carnage of those around them. From the second carriage came the frantic shouts and pleas for help.
The Portents had been positioned directly opposite the point of impact and were witness to the entire tragedy. From their perspective, there had been an enormous web waiting suspended in the sky and at the point of impact, it fell over the entire disaster. The threads that had been splayed outward toward the Portents began to disappear as each life was ended. The Portents had spent the two weeks following these threads whilst they were still vibrant and attached to their owners. They had followed each one to each individual to obtain their name. As they stood watching, the Portents now knew each name of every person who was to die before them. They stood as impassive witnesses to the unfolding tragedy.
Not one of the sixteen moved or changed expression until a young boy died in an attempt to save another. Two of the Portents reacted; one was the youngest of the Portents. Meraud was overwhelmed by the sadness, the other, Fearghas or Fear, reacted to Meraud's pain.
The atmosphere of chaos overwhelmed everywhere else, with screaming, crying, running and falling. Arms were hanging from the windows of the train, some, limp and lifeless, some desperately clinging to life. There were a few people who attempted to climb down to the buckled train from the station to assist in rescuing the mangled and bloodied survivors.
After about 30 minutes, the line of sixteen started to break up and they began to speak impassively to one another. To a regular commuter, this line up of the sixteen may have been witnessed each day at the same place on the same platform for the last two weeks but such is the nature of mortals that they do not tend to notice the supernatural.
Meraud, glanced at her two sisters, Kensa and Steren. They were impassively discussing one of the mortals who had just passed away instantly in the train wreckage. It was easy to tell the three were sisters as they looked quite similar, only Meraud's face was more heart shaped than the older two. Another differing feature was that the two older sisters had blue eyes but Meraud's were of an intense green like the deep ocean. This is why some would say that she was called Meraud as her name meant the ocean. This also suited her as she was more volatile and sensitive than her sisters. Meraud was known as the most unpredictable of all the Portents and as such her duties were often more difficult to fulfil than they otherwise should have been. Aside from their differences, the three sisters all had long dark hair and sensual, curvaceous bodies. All three favoured long skirts, hitched up to reveal stove pipe pants underneath and comfortable, long boots.
Meraud knew she had had been touched by the show of human dignity and compassion that had taken place before her. As a witness to human suffering, she had seen human nature tested at its very worst and very best. That they could meet these disasters with dignity and heroism was impressive to her. Some mortals on the platform risked their own lives in an attempt to save others who were trapped inside of the wreck.
Meraud had been particularly touched by the plight of the young teenage boy who had climbed into the wreck through a window. He had then tried to pull a woman toward the window so that others, who were stronger, could pull her to safety. Meraud was disturbed when she came to grasp that he was marked to die. Meraud herself, had traced his thread to him and obtained his name. Joshi, his name was Joshua Miller, he was called Joshi to his friends. He was sixteen years old. He wanted to be a software designer and Meraud was to witness him die right now.
When Joshi tried to clamber back out of the window of the oddly angled and buckled carriage,his foot slipped. Because his trainers were worn down on the sole, they had no traction so he lost his balance. Joshi fell between the station and what was left of the train and his thin body was sliced in half by the sharp, protruding steel as gravity pulled him downward. Even as his body was being cut in two and the blood spilled outwards, his arms were reaching out to the hands that were extended from the carriage, in the vain attempt to grasp him and pull him back up. Meraud stared as Joshi had fallen to his death from the wreck. The realisation on his face that he was dying and seeing the blood spurting from his young body as it sliced apart, haunted Meraud.
All of her known existence had been to witness mortals tested at their moment of death. They could rise to the challenge and display greatness and courage or they could fail themselves and others. Some would go quietly and others would fight against their fate. This young boy had displayed courage and put the lives of others over his own. He had died being fully aware of the sensation of being cut in two and this was reflected upon his face. Meraud felt humbled and she felt equally horrified and confused. Even though it was not the case, she began to think that she had been responsible for Joshi's death. She had found him and taken his name and at this moment, he would be beginning the journey along with the others to face Death.
Fear had been observing Meraud to assure himself that she was coping since the teenage boy's death. Although he had assured himself that Meraud was managing,he resolved to keep an eye on her in case her reaction would be delayed. He understood the burden that it was to be a Portent and knew that Meraud had been affected by this death. Fear wanted to shield Meraud from the harsh reality of the Portent life. She had matured a long time ago but was emotionally still young. He was drawn by her beauty, her unpredictable spirit and her sincerity. He wished for her to remain as she was but he knew that they faced grief every day of their immortal lives; it was inevitable that she would lose her exuberance. Her sisters could not continue to shield her from the stark horrors of their reality and neither could he. The life of a Portent, was difficult and pre-destined.
Chapter 3 - Why?
After the train disaster, the Portents returned to Death's cave to wait until the next mission. Meraud took herself to her own lodgings and shut the door behind her. She did not want to speak to anyone which was unusual for her. She felt changed. She felt altered. She suddenly felt that she had no further interest in Portent lore. There was no way that she could understand how or what had changed, she just felt it. Solitude was her answer to sift through this experience.
She thought of Joshi's face when she had found him and had taken his name. Images of Joshi's thin body in parts then pervaded her thinking. It was gruesome. His young and frail body being severed so brutally so that his young life, literally fell out of him. Strangely enough, it was not the worst death Meraud had ever witnessed and she knew it would not be the last. There was just something about this that had created some sort of indefinable shift within her.
Meraud started to pace around her lodgings. Her space was generous in size. It did have a bed, although it was rarely
