//------------------------------// // Onboarding Passengers III // Story: Midnight Rail // by daOtterGuy //------------------------------// Soarin eyed the abandoned store wearily. It was an old record shop just outside of the Vanhoover Haven within the Burn Out. Like a deteriorated time capsule that was dated even at the time it was built, the entire street was decorated in neon aesthetic, with the music store as a gaudy centrepiece. London, Bradbury, Hinton, and Leap stood next to him. They wore a range of expressions across their faces, each in a different state of anxiousness and anticipation. “When we gettin’ to stabbin’, then?” London asked, her tone almost accusatory, as if she had been lied to. “We need to gather information first,” Soarin replied. London huffed. “A good start to any hunt against these Deviants,” Leap remarked. “... Yeah. These situations tend to go south even when you know everything about them.” Soarin hesitated a moment before he asked, “If things go badly—” “You will be revived at our expense,” Leap interrupted, already anticipating the question. “We would like to assure you that mistakes are entirely acceptable, if perhaps quite painful.” Soarin nodded. “So, you’re here to capture the Deviants?” “Yes, but only after you all weaken them.” “... I’ve never heard of something like that,” Hinton said, her voice carrying an undertone of worry to it. “It is an ability unique to ourself, Leap replied. “We are certain that you have never met another being quite like us.” Hinton gripped their pistol tighter. “So, we doin’ the smash and… smash?” Bradbury questioned. An exasperated sigh. “No. We’re gathering information first,” Soarin repeated. “Ah, then we smash and smash.” Bradbury nodded, seemingly satisfied with her answer. “No, Afterwards—” Soarin rubbed his temples. “—Just stay here. I’ll scout the store out, then come back.” “And then—” Bradbury began. “Just stay!” Soarin retorted. He pointed an accusatory finger at London. “You too.” Before London could respond, Soarin walked briskly toward the record store. He carefully maneuvered around debris, watching his steps to not make any unnecessary noise. All the while, he tried to quiet his internal reprimands at losing his cool. As a leader, he shouldn’t have snapped at Bradbury and London no matter how frustrating they might be. He was certain Leap had been disappointed in him, but what was done was done. He only had to do better from this point forward. As he neared the building, he slowed down, edging closer to the entrance. He plastered himself to a nearby wall and listened in. The only sound he could hear was the rifling of paper. Feeling that the Deviant was most likely distracted and probably hadn’t noticed his presence, Soarin peeked through the door. Inside, the interior matched the exterior. Bright gaudy colours that had faded with time, aisles of wooden stands holding stacks of records. In the centre aisle was an entity. A tall, hunched-over being enshrouded by dozens of differently coloured furs in the form of a massive coat and wide-brimmed hat. It huffed, a strange clacking sound mixed with a sharp release of air. It tossed the record it had been looking at across the room with a gnarled grey-skinned hand, decorated with an assortment of rings in various styles. Soarin presumed that was the Level 2 For Want of Everything. A quick glance at his watch noted that Tears for Damned was present, but obscured either by the Deviant or by its own abilities, whatever they may be. “Wow, what a freak.” He whirled around to face Bradbury, London, and Hinton, the two prior far too close for comfort and the latter hanging back with an apologetic look on her face. “What are you doing here?” Soarin hissed. “I told you to wait back there.” “Bored,” London answered simply, as if that was a good enough reason. She drew out a knife handle first out of her sleeve, then flipped around to have the blade facing outward. “Let’s cut the blighter a new one.” “And smash its face in,” Bradbury added, her eyes sparkling at the prospect of violence. “No, we need to—” London and Bradbury charged into the store. “Wait!” Soarin called after them. London slinked off behind the counter on one side of the store. Bradbury drew her axe from the folds of her trenchcoat and charged at the Deviant with a joyous cry. For Want whipped their head sharply to face Bradbury, revealing a long sharp beak just under two beady white eyes. The rest of its body shortly followed, revealing a small gilded cage in its other hand, containing a small emanciated blue bird leaking black fluid from its eyes. Bradbury swung her axe at the Deviant’s head, but For Want grabbed the blade end and pulled both it and Bradbury forward. Calls of “Mine! Mine! Mine!” emanated from within as the abomination yanked the axe out of Bradbury’s grip. “Hey, give that back!” Bradbury exclaimed as she tried to wail into For Want with her fists. The Deviant deftly dodged, cawing in mockery at Bradbury’s futile efforts. “Take this, ya blighter!” London leaped at the abomination’s back, knife aimed toward the creature’s head. Barely paying her any mind, For Want backhanded her with its arm and sent her flying across the store. She landed roughly into a display, cracking the wood. “Dammit!” Soarin turned toward Hinton. “How good are you with that gun?” “I won’t miss,” Hinton replied. “Good. Provide cover fire for Bradbury. I’ll run in and see if I can stop its movement.” Soarin charged into the fray, whips crackling at his side. Two gunshots fired in rapid succession. One went into the Deviant’s right eye, the second into hand holding Bradbury’s axe. It screeched in pain, dropping the axe and stumbling back away from the gunshots. Bradbury grabbed the axe falling in mid-air with a cry of delight. Closing the last of the distance between them, Soarin threw his whips in a loop over the Deviant’s head, then pulled them tightly around an approximation of its neck. Volts of electricity coursed through its body as it screamed louder. “Take this, ya knob!” A knife embedded itself in For Want’s back. The Deviant released a startled caw as it whirled to face London. She stood amongst the wreckage of the display, knives drawn and expression furious. “London, stop provoking it!” Soarin yelled. Ignoring his order, London threw another knife at the Deviant. The blade lodged itself within the depths of the abomination. For Want charged at London with a chorus of caws. Soarin was dragged along with it as he held onto the whips entangled around the Deviant, wincing in pain as his torso scraped along the uneven, debris-riddled floors. “Hey! Get back here!” Bradbury called out as she chased after them. “Get ahead of the Deviant and protect London!” Soarin ordered. He was ignored yet again as Bradbury instead ineffectually slashed at air left behind by For Want with her axe. Soarin growled in frustration. Bullets shot into the back of the Deviant’s head in quick succession. At least Hinton listened to him. “Come at me ya git!” London cried, charging toward the Deviant. She thrust her knife forward, overshooting her shot and instead stabbing the smaller Deviant in the cage. For Want froze in place. A moment passed, then the caged Deviant exploded into massive globs of black tar. It splattered For Want, Bradbury, Soarin, and London. A horrid hissing and acrid smoke filled the room as the tar burned both material and flesh. Soarin bit back a scream as his whips went slack and dropped to the floor. London writhed as she took the brunt of the explosion. An even louder scream drowned them both out as For Want’s coat flapped open into a multitude of wings, revealing a body made up of grafted-together magpies all clinging to a central metallic core made of shiny doodads. “Bradbury, open up its core!” Soarin shouted. Instead, Bradbury slashed futilely at the creature’s head. For Want was barely phased. Meanwhile, more and more tar leaked from the gilded cage. Soarin didn’t know what For Want was trying to do, but he knew they couldn’t let it continue. “Bradbury—” Soarin stopped, then shouted, “Hinton, shoot it in the heart!” Crack. Crack. Crack. Three shots fired out. The first dinged off the heart uselessly. The second caused a small hole to appear in the metallic core. The third found its mark. A gurgling sound emanated from the Deviant’s beak as small trails of black tar spilled out of the corners. It dropped to the floor, beginning to dissolve away into nothing. They’d won. Leap stepped over Soarin’s body and held out one hand. The remnants of both Deviants swirled up into their palm, forming two perfect spheres. One was a small blue bird crying tears of black, and the other was an amalgamation of magpies all pressed up along the contours of the globe. “Woo!” Bradbury cheered. She pumped up both arms, a wide smile on her face. London glared, still visibly in huge amounts of pain from the burning tar. “Allow us to deal with the unpleasantness.” Leap snapped their fingers and the tar dissipated, leaving behind slightly burnt clothing and red rashes from where the tar had touched skin. “There. All cleaned up.” “Stupid exploding jerk,” London muttered. “We were awesome!” Bradbury exclaimed. “A-are you kidding me?!” Soarin didn’t bother to correct her as he painfully stood back onto his feet, pushing through the pain that radiated from through his entire body. He turned to face Hinton, who stood nearby, fists clenched tightly at her sides. She looked furious, her face bright red. “You were b-both pathetic!” Hinton shouted. “Oh, knock it—” London started. “Don’t even s-start!” Hinton stuttered, sheer anger keeping London quiet. “What were you thinking c-charging into there! You were both s-s-stupid! You should have listened to G-Golding!” London and Bradbury looked away, the prior angrily sulking, the latter embarrassed. “... It was my fault, Hinton,” Soarin said. “W-what?! They were—” “Acting out because I’m a bad leader,” Soarin interrupted. “If I’d shown that I could lead… they would have trusted me enough to follow my orders.” The assembled group looked at him with a range of expressions that Soarin couldn’t begin to process through the cloud of pain that fogged his mind. “... If you say so,” Hinton said, her voice returning to its normal dry tone. “As much as I don’t agree, if that’s your stance, so be it.” “It is,” Soarin said. “Nice shot.” Hinton nodded, gripping one arm with the other. “Well then.” Leap clapped their hands together, both spheres disappearing. “Despite complications, we believe that this can be considered an overall success. We now ask that all passengers return to the train so that we continue our journey… and heal your extensive injuries.” There was a collective grunt of agreement before they began to hobble off toward the train. They were silent as they all mulled over their own thoughts.