Ol’ Sleeper George continued to puff and snore white smoke, across the vast swathes of rice paddies that laid about. The torrent of rains persisted and kept on their stance, relentlessly continuing to fire their bullets, which flooded the lands below which reached heights that neared the tracks. But Sleeper George, regardless of whether he were asleep or awake or in travails, won’t stop in his travels. Simply ‘because he was like an unstoppable object.
Chloe watched the rough landscape from the safety of the train. It was definitely a sight to see, but Chloe glared at it with nigh curiosity. A distant memory wavers withers in her mind, a shocking one to boot. Up above, the gods clapped and threw stuff down below. Electric blue, it shone...
”So, that’s thunder?” Chloe inquired, glaring at Audrey with a mild case of dangerous curiosity. “I’ve always imagined it to be a lot less… how should I say this? Divine, but I understand that it is her work.” She coughed a bit.
”You seem eager…” Audrey noted, “Thunder’s commonplace around here. Were you under a rock?” Audrey quietly read the newspaper she snatched on the station, reading it intently with the curiosity of a baby. A new article caught her eye, its title printed in all-black boldface.
Parliament response enrages diplomats, talks of a final solution rumoured!
Following up on the disastrous summit at Freeport last week, Prime Minister of Mafacy Terence Falkner has submitted an apology to the diplomat, expressing deep sorrow for the behaviour of the unruly politicians.
However, National Party members have accused Falkner of being a "heretic of Morendox". Current MP of Peridia, Solace von Marteau VI, has noted on the matter, stating "Once all options are exhausted on a question, we must solve it with our final solution."
Only time will tell what will happen next, and what Rodinia's response to this will be.
Audrey scoffed at the article. It seemed she had picked up a geopolitical newspaper, and judging from its contents, it was Mafacian. She put the newspaper into her courier bag. But, she felt like someone was staring at her. It brought an uncomfortable feeling inside her.
”Final solution… Do you know what that meant, friend?” Chloe inquired. She glared at the newspaper Audrey held. There was a hint of curiosity in her eyes, yet a slight understanding as well. “The only such thing I know about is the Intervention."
Audrey shook her head, ”Let’s not dwell on that matter, I’ve got better things to worry about than bickering old men..”
"Ahem!" A voice sounded out. A tall figure stood towering over the duo, tapping his feet and his pencil with impatience. "Girls. Can I take your order, please. I've been standing here for a few moments already, it would be best for you to order what you want."
Audrey itched her head, "Who're you supposed to be, mister?"
"I'm uh... a porter, miss. Right now, I’m serving as your waiter as we are short on people who’d do these jobs. My name’s Charlie, pleasure to meet you.”
"Oh, I see. Then, I would like... something cheap. Like legumes or a sandwich!"
"Audrey, this man looks like a dark monster. Is he evil?" Chloe innocently asked, rubbing her hands anxiously. "My brethren told me of these stories of these err.. dark monster who prowl the jungle like savages. Is he one such monster, and if he is I must perform an exorcism!"
Audrey simply stared at her with bewilderment, her eyes twitching erratically.
"A what... No, no, no."
Charlie however, howled wildly, giving the occasional wheeze. "Oh, you've never seen people like me?" He laughed, "For a second there, I thought you were racist. No, I'm no monster. I'm a person like you."
***
Three gallant stallions galloped gloriously in the view of the moonlight. The cool tropical winds breezed back against the braided hair of those stallions, and also their riders. A trio of men, dressed in the clothes that paddy farmers would wear, slowly ride along the rails; persistent in their pursuit of the perceived object that is their goal.
Tonight, the moon herself was clearer than a misty day on a Friday.
The leader of the trio, a washed-up veteran named Grant, hunched himself with a deadpan expression near his steed's head. From time to time, he would lapse in and out of consciousness, snoring like a blast furnace, and sometimes he would fall towards the dirt road below. His companions were also just as strange as he was.
A young man named Louis who had black hair, a light complexion, and an anserine way of life, and Maury, a tanned man who looked as if he reached the ripe old age... of 40.
THUD!
"Boss just fell off his horse again." Louis mumbled, shaking his head. He slowed down his steed to a halt. “Maury, can you slow down? "
”Hold on a minute, Jess is acting up again.” Maury responded.
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”Maury.” Louis inquired, “You think that Grant bought more of that stuff from that shady dude? He seems to be addicted or something.”
”Think so, Louie.” Maury poignantly answered. “Liquor isn’t my sort of thing, and I know what happens to people when they drink it. That man he talked to, doesn’t he feel off? He said where he was from, and demanded a deal. Plus, it's like he had unlimited amounts of the stuff.”
”Wish she would put her foot down with this, Maury.” Louis rubbed his forehead, “But, she’s off seducing with Ezratil’s boy’s. If she comes back, gah….”
”Are you talking behind my daughter’s back, boy!” An ominous and clear voice spat out, “Louis, don’t you know how to be polite to someone?!” Louis turned around to find Grant’s flushed face glaring intimidatingly at him.
”...Boss Grant, didn’t see you there.” Louis mumbled.
”Boy, you do know that she doesn’t take disrespect lightly, huh.”
”I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
”Hmph, you’re lucky you’re saying that in my presence. Maury, you also have to keep this in mind. You didn’t come out the last one unscathed, and she was like a ferocious monster.”
Grant shrugged, and laughed loudly.
”We’re at the spot they told us to be in right?” Grant questioned. “The locomotive should be speeding right towards our location."
"...Fuck those guys." Maury itched his head. "Why'd they tell us to this shit, eh. We aren't some sort of errand boys, we're a justified brigade of good men!"
"They promised good pay, though." Louis retorted, "Think about it. We can use the money to help our own lives! Maybe even others."
"Gentlemen, settle down. Regardless, we must just perform this job like any other job we do. It's not like this is going to backfire on us, right. Now, we hav—"
A steam locomotive came speeding forwards, and Maury and Louis took their chance to leap onto one of the cars.
”Boss Grant!” The duo cried out, “You alright?” The duo carefully and worriedly headed towards the coal car Grant fell in.
”I’m alright, boys!”
The duo helped their boss back up, and headed towards the car. After which they entered the car and rolled into the scene. Quietly, they make their move and assessed their surroundings… The cargo car was compact and uncomfortable, being stacked with many crates. It was dimly lit, almost dark. The waves of a muffled conversation could be heard, but only a little.
"Remember what we're here for," Grant whispered, "If we don't find what we're looking for, we bail."
"Right." The duo nodded.
CRASH!
”Who did that!” The boss yelped. "Who the fuck did that! We've been compromised!"
”Wait, wait, wait! It was an accident! I didn’t see that!” Louis's voice echoed.
"Hey, is someone inside the cargo car?" A muffled voice spoke. "Did a coon snuck itself there? Someone go and look!"
The door handle rocked up and down wildly, and a beam of light suddenly appeared out of thin air. The trio rolled into a spot behind a crate, before a person stepped in. He was an elderly and senior looking man, dressed in railway porter standard. The porter scanned around the car, finding a smashed vase’s ruins on the floor.
"Stowaways, I smell it." He shouted. "Show yourselves! I know ‘yer there, come on out!”
”What do we do, boss?” Louis whispered.
The porter unsheathed his sword, a Eirasoan longsword, and seemed to be forged with white steel, with a surprisingly well-mannered stance. He swung up the sword slightly, a smug grin on his obscenely white teeth. It seemed that a fight was what he wished for.
Louis and Maury
The boss cracked his knuckles, then his neck, and loosened up his ligaments. He tipped down his straw hat, and flashed a quiet smile. He leered at him,
”Damn, I didn’t know they taught niggers how to wield a sword,” He spat towards the porter’s boot. “Well then… let’s see if you know how to fool around like a genius, I’m not going to lose to you.”
Grant unsheathed the sword he held from his back. The sword was a dull-looking, grey broadsword. Yet, the blood of thousands dripped from it..
”Sobered up, you hick?” The porter mumbled, “I can tell you’ve drunk something, perhaps a brandy or gin. I think that you’ve got some ulterior motive on your hand, you're gonna round up all of us and send us back, huh?”
”Why would I care about that. I’ve not got no qualms against you, but you’re standing in my way, nigger. Don’t make me say that twice now, I’ve got a trigger finger.”
Grant then leapt forward, and swung his sword towards the porter. Though, he calmly deflected the attack and retorted back with his own. Grant began an orderly stepping back, and tried looking for a flaw in the stance, but could not.
The porter was an agile one, and well-coordinated with his attacks. He quickly sauntered to Grant's back and attempted to slice his back. At the nick of time, Grant rolled backwards and attempted to assess the situation. It was not looking good for him, and it may as well be over for him.
Suddenly, he felt something tugging on his clothes. He checked his shirt, but nothing was to be seen. Taking the opportunity, the porter swung his sword, which Grant tried to dodge but slipped onto the ground.
Exposed on every part, Grant was now at the mercy of his attacker. With a callous hand, the porter prepared the finishing blow. Grant inched slowly, trying to get away.
"Shit..."
”Now then, time to teach you a lesson.” The porter snapped, “That you’ll never step foot ever again on ground ever again. Heh, laughable, ‘cause you’ll be a ghost now!”
’Shit, I think we’ll have to call off the mission.’ Grant worriedly thought, ‘I can’t die here now, I’ve already wasted one of my lives already, don’t tell me it’s actually over for me!’
The porter leapt forwards, aiming his sword towards the belly of his fallen opponent.
But then suddenly, Louis and Maury leapt up from their hiding places and drew out their revolvers at the porter. They fired directly towards the porter’s torso, in which the porter immediately collapsed to the ground.
When he did collapse, a soft thud came about, and then a pool of blood slowly flowed on the wooden floor. The porter mumbled a curse towards the trio, before his eyes wisped away like so.
”Maury!! Louis!!” Grant snapped, “burp… What the hell are you boys doing! I was going to— fucking kill him. What the hell!!”
Louis and Maury glanced at their boss. His face looked a lot more relieved, however relapsed into a flush. Maury then moved away from the group and towards the porter’s cadaver.
”Sometimes, you shouldn’t be fighting when you ain’t sober.” Louis hissed, retracting his revolver into its holster. “We both knew you weren’t going to live that one with our intervention.”
”Nicely said, Louie.” Maury nodded, as he inspected the porter’s cadaver for something of value. He then stood up and took the porter’s sword. “What do you reckon is the price of this sword going to be? I appraise it to be about a thousand braquid.”
Grant facepalmed, shaking his head at them.
”Well, we’ve got to clean up the site now.” Grant grumbled. “Quick now, before someone else enters the room.”
”Louis, come and help me here.” Maury whispered as he pulled the body towards a room. Louis fidgeted around for a moment, then looked towards his hands with a blank stare before fainting suddenly.
Maury sighed, ”Understandable.”