Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.
Scrapyard Blues
...
"Worthless."
"Send him for scrap."
"Nobody wants to buy this engine."
"He has no value. We get more for him if we sell his as scrap metal."
The words kept haunting him night and day. As they had since the factory had shut down and he was sent here. The other engine from the factory, Leonard, had been scrapped on arrival. But to be fair, he has a lot older and more worn.
But still… Granfos looked around in the lot, scrapmetal and junk all over the place. Old refrigerators… Light fixtures… Cars… who he assumed were dead… No other locomotives as far as he could see. Of course not. Most locomotives would be rehomed if their railway shut down. Unless they were obsolete… Was he obsolete? Already? He was just 19 years old… No age for a locomotive… Certainly not for a Levahn. Levahns were known to last long and were often called perpetual motion machines.
'I'll be the youngest Levahn to ever be scrapped…' He thought to himself. 'But there is still a lot left in me…'
He barely dared looking around. The place was terrifying. Even more so than the factory he came from… The paper factory had been a scary place, but at least it was familiar. This place was new… and his future bleak… This was a place for death…
How long would he have to wait?
He looked up at the sky. How long would he stand here, waiting to die?
His mind wandered… to his siblings… his parents… the mechanic at Levahn Works… Did they know he was here? Were they still alive? Was he the first of his family to meet his demise?
"We're here looking for some scrapmetal that can be used to make parts for our steam engines." a voice said behind the fence. Someone was in the parking lot.
Granfos sighed. It didn't matter. People came and went here. The crashing noises from the crusher, crumpling up metal, sounded all day long. A constant reminder of what was waiting for him.
"Sure! Go have a look around. Holler if you find anything of interest!" the manager's voice.
The men walked in, looking around. One of them looked directly at him, stopping for a while.
Granfos growled, baring his teeth. 'Keep walking.' He thought. 'I'm not scrap…'
The men continued deeper into the scrap yard. Granfos exhaled slowly.
But his relief didn't last long, as the men came back emptyhanded. Again, one of them studied him curiously. Then he walked up to him.
"Woah! Easy!" the man exclaimed as Granfos snapped at him, nearly biting his hand.
The blue diesel growled, a deep rumble coming from the depth of his engine compartment. Life had taught him not to trust humans. At the factory he has been beaten and scolded for even the smallest mistake. He expected no good from these two-legged creatures…
The man however studied him, from a safe distance this time, having an unreadable expression on his face.
"Perfect." He stated after a while, before heading back to his friend. "Let's get the manager and sign the papers. I'll call the transport, so we can come fetch him at the end of the week."
Granfos' breath hitched. He was done for! These men were buying scrap metal… He was going to be used to make parts for other locomotives…
Until now, the time of his death had been uncertain… and he preferred it that way. Now… he had a date. An execution date…
His eyes followed the men as they walked out of the yard to get the manager.
To get the manager and sign the papers…
The papers for his death…
By the end of the week. Four days.
In four days, it would all be over…
