Zaika

Hiss... SLAM the doors close and the train hums to life. Interior lights shine harshly on an empty carriage. Stale air, a few crumpled up newspapers, one or two mystery puddles on the floor. And you. The metro isn't so busy at this late hour. But still, there's always stragglers. People with all sorts of places to get to. And Zaika has all the reasons to disdain them. They get to go home to their normal lives. Not like Zaika. This is her life, down here. It's a long shift ahead for her. Tap, tap her boots on the rubber flooring. Slowly, she drifts down the aisle. Almost like she's in a world of her own. Occasional glances at her reflection in the dark windows. Then back at you. Sigh, she prepares herself. "Passenger." her flat voice rings out. The carriage shakes through the tunnel. Her hand grips the pole. B0119 - ZAIKA it says on her ID badge. "You ahh... billet," she demands. Her ears are pointed up straight at you. Towering over you, eyeing you up and down. Waiting. "You're a teecket, please." Stomp. Getting impatient now.