Hey guys, I'm changing things up slightly, I'm giving you my foreword at the beginning of the chapter rather than the end. As I've said before, this is going to be my darkest story yet, and it's my first one to be rated M, for graphic violence, disturbing scenes, maybe a bit of language (don't quote me on that) and very dark themes in general. It may not be entirely worth an M-rating but I'm covering all grounds just in case. Either way, be prepared for this, this most likely will make some of you uncomfortable, not so much the first chapter, but from the next chapter onwards more likely, ESPECIALLY the next chapter.

Anyway, I've rambled on long enough, on with the show!

It had been several days now since Thomas and Emily had a little repeat of when they first began their romantic relationship. They disobeyed their long-held "Work before play," promise to the Fat Controller, but worked through this barrier and were able to move on for the past few days. But now, another, and the last major unusual event was due to fall upon Thomas and Emily, and in a dark, dark way.

One morning, the engines woke up at Tidmouth Sheds, and the Fat Controller was about to come along and assign jobs to them, and the engines would soon be off to work. Among the other engines' crews, Emily's driver had arrived…but her fireman was a little late.

"Where could he be?" asked her driver. Then all of a sudden, Emily and her driver heard a loud, unpleasant coughing sound. Then a sneeze. Soon enough, Emily's fireman came along, with a red nose and a handkerchief. He had been taken ill and could hardly stand.

"Uhh…good morning, Emily," he wheezed before coughing even more.

"That sounds like a nasty cold you got there," said Emily.

"You should go home," said her driver. "You can't be working when you're this ill."

"Nonsense," said her fireman. "It's nothing serious. And I still want to serve well today."

"I'm not sure," said Emily. "I wouldn't want you to get giddy in my cab and become even sicker," said Emily.

"I'm sure I'll be fine, Emily," her fireman coughed once more. "I'll work through one day."

Emily's driver looked at her, then sighed, reluctantly agreeing to continue with their day. Her fireman got in her cab and started preparing her fire for the day. While he was doing that, the Fat Controller arrived to give out jobs to the engines. Each engine, until Thomas and Emily were left went to work.

"Now, Emily," said the Fat Controller. "You must gather a goods train from Vicarstown Goods Yard. It is an important load of stone from the Mainland to deliver all across the island."

Emily normally would have been perfectly alright with this job, but she knew about how things worked on the Mainland. Trucks on Sodor were troublesome already, but with everything that happened on the Mainland, their trucks were much, much worse, and could be more dangerous in the matter.

Thomas was worried too. She had to do this on her own, and he wasn't sure if this was a good idea, especially with an ill fireman who had insisted to stay and work.

"Emily? Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked, a little nervously.

"I think so, Thomas. All I have to do is be firm and let the trucks know who's in charge," said Emily. "I hope…" she added to herself. But as Emily huffed along the line, she was still wondering about the trucks she was about to deal with. And having an insistent, ill fireman certainly did not help matters.

Eventually, Emily arrived at Vicarstown Goods Yard and found her goods train, with all the Mainland trucks. They were already laughing and joking together on how they could give an engine some trouble. Emily still wondered if she'd make it through this job alright.

"Alright," she sighed. "Let's get this done." And she collected her trucks and set off. Only a few minutes after she had started moving, the trucks started their usual tricks.

"Hold back. Hold back!" they cried, slowing Emily down. But she was determined not to let them win.

"Come on, you lot!" ordered Emily. The trucks just laughed as they slipped their brakes on.

"Aren't you useless!" laughed the leading truck. Then the other trucks joined in insulting Emily. "Too slow! More power! Here all night! Tomorrow too!"

"Stop that racket! Get moving, you!" demanded Emily.

"You can puff and blow, but with all of us, you're still too slow! Ha-ha!"

"S-SLOW YOURSELF!" yelled Emily, giving them a harsh bump. Each truck bounced back an inch or two, right to the brakevan. Her fireman swiveled on his feet and grabbed the window to catch his balance. After that, Emily seemed to be going faster and more smoothly.

"There…I guess that'll teach them," she sighed. But the trucks were not happy now.

"An engine should know better," grumbled the leading truck. "Let's pay her back for bumping us."

"Good idea," each truck answered. "Let's wait though. Wait until she won't expect something at all…"

But then trouble loomed just a few moments away, and the trucks' chance came sooner than expected. The fireman shoveled another load of coal into Emily's fire and was just about to check her gauges, when he suddenly got a rush up his nose…a very strong one. By this time, Emily's bumping had made him giddy indeed as he reached for his handkerchief and prepared for a large sneeze.

"Uhh…ah…AH-CCHHOOO!" The force of his sneeze made him stagger backwards suddenly…right into the driver's head. It was too late to duck or move away, and in just one second, both men saw a quick flash of white, then complete blackness as they collapsed to the floor of Emily's cab. Emily thought she heard a bit of noise and didn't notice what had happened…but her first few trucks noticed the noise.

"Did you hear that?" asked a truck. "That princess's driver and fireman are out like lights! She has no one to watch her!"

"Maybe WE should drive," laughed the leading truck. "Ready…steady…GO!"

Suddenly, Emily was going faster and faster. She wondered what was going on…and she also realized her driver and fireman were not doing anything to slow her down.

"Hello? Driver!" she called. "Fireman! Slow me down!" She waited for something to happen, but nothing did.

"Hey!" she panicked. "Anyone back there?!" Then she suddenly remembered the loud sneeze…and the thudding sound.

"What if they're knocked out? I have no crew! I can't stop! Help! HELP!" wailed Emily as she saw Percy passing by with his own goods train.

"Now's our chance!" said the trucks. They all bumped Emily so suddenly, the guard, who was going to set the brakes in his van, fell off the brakevan and landed beside the line. The trucks began pushing Emily quicker along the line. "Faster! FASTER!" they yelled.

"No! No!" wailed Percy's trucks. "That's Emily! Don't do it!" But it was no good. Emily shot past Percy and rocketed further down the line, wailing desperately for help while the tucks kept laughing and yelling behind her.

"On, on, ON!" they yelled as they hurtled through Wellsworth Station. Suddenly, they approached the bottom of Gordon's Hill. With no one to apply Emily's brakes, the trucks pushed her up the hill. The hill slowed them down…until they got to the top.

"Hurrah! HURRAH!" roared the trucks. "FASTER!" And they pushed Emily over the peak of Gordon's Hill, then down the other side, even faster than ever.

As they shot down from the bottom, Emily suddenly began to tip off the rails to the left…just like James did with all those extra trucks…until she was running hastily along the sleepers…then she saw a brick bridge up ahead…the same one James crashed into and hung over the ledge. But this time, Philip wasn't here to save the day. Emily crashed into the bridge…and unlike James, she fell right off! The coupling broke and she landed roughly on her side on the bottom track. She groaned in pain, and her unconscious crew were bumped about in the cab, but then suddenly, it just got worse. All the trucks were still speeding along, and after the first one was derailed, several more of them crashed on top of her. One by one, each truck crashed down on and around her, damaging her even further, and releasing more yells of pain from her, and somewhere around her tender coupling, a water pipe from her tender popped, and water sprayed everywhere. At last, the trucks stopped falling. Some had managed to stop on the rails…but down below the bridge, disaster had struck.

"Peep…peep!" Emily wailed under the wreck as the trucks laughed and laughed. Then Emily's whistle suddenly broke off by one final stone hitting it. Suddenly, she heard a whistle coming through the tunnel. She groaned in agony and shut her eyes, waiting to be hit…but nothing happened. There was Henry huffing slowly along…until he stopped right where he was and saw everything. At first, silence ensued. Then…

"EMILY! My God…" panicked Henry. His driver climbed down and inspected the damage, while his fireman scrambled to the cottage and telephoned the Fat Controller for help.

"Emily? Can you hear me?! Emily!" panicked Henry.

"Yes, I can hear you!" Emily screamed painfully, muffled under all those trucks. "But I've never felt so broken! Get help!"

"Help is on the way, Emily! My fireman is calling right now!" worried Henry. All Emily could do was continue to groan and wince in agony…

Edward soon arrived with Rocky and Harold hastily flew in from above. Before Emily was dealt with, workmen carefully shifted away the rocks and rubble from her now-crunched cab…and found her driver and fireman unconscious and injured. They were carefully hauled out of the mess, put in medical stretchers, and then placed inside Harold.

"Dear me, Emily," said Harold. "I hope you'll be alright. You'd best go to the Steamworks. Must fly. Goodbye!" and he flew off as fast as he could to transfer her crew to a hospital. Then Rocky got to work hauling all the trucks off of Emily and out of the way before he turned to her.

"OK, Emily," said Rocky. "I warn you, this may hurt." And he very carefully hauled her out of the wreck. Emily winced loudly as she was lifted back up the bridge to her flatbed. As she was lifted up, Henry took a closer look.

"Oh, my Lord!" he cried as he saw the full extent of damage on Emily…

She was very dirty, her funnel was cracked almost right off, her boiler was deeply dented, her brass safety valve had been crushed, and her whistle was broken. But it was worse than that…one of her large driving wheels had been smashed, leading to a broken side-rod, her front had been badly twisted by the bridge, her tender was dented in several places, one of her water pipes for her tender had burst, dripping water on the ground, her beautiful smokebox had nasty scratches, revealing bits of grey frame underneath, and lastly, but most painful for Henry, or for Thomas to eventually see…she had one black eye on the left. She found it hard to open right now, and it seemed red and slightly grey at the same time.

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" she cried out as Rocky lowered her onto the flatbed. "Oh, I hurt everywhere, Rocky! Please! I want it to stop!"

"It will stop, Emily, it will stop. We'll get you to the Steamworks now. Just don't worry about anything. You're going to be helped," promised Edward as he and Rocky escorted her to the Steamworks carefully…but somewhere in him, Edward began to fear what would come next. Would Thomas stay relieved that she was alive, or would he succumb to his demons and take vengeance for this absolutely horrific accident that had fallen upon his beloved angel?