Apropos of the Sinners

by SpitFlame

Part V – Chapter VI – Strange Conflicts

Nova was rushing in all directions, struggling against what he concluded must have been internal fate, as it were. But now, he concluded again, was not the time to be running around with such dangerous entities present, and in spite of that, he could not avoid noticing the myriad dead bodies which began to spring around him, which thoroughly numbed him. For a while now he could not think back to any of his initial goals and dreams, more focusing on the matters at hoof. He noticed that the hot spot of conflict—where the ponies in white and black were fighting—largely took place in the first-class compartments. But he also noticed many ponies hitching off to third-class, and as for why, he could not know.

The train gave a sharp little screech. Plates, utensils, and other loose items wobbled to the side; the train was turning, turning sharply; then it settled again.

Nova discovered a groups of ponies from the second-class bunched up in several of the cabins. He stared at it for while, gave a start, jumped up, and starting knocking. But they did not open. He heard more hoof-steps approaching him, so he backed off and ventured into the next car.

This next one was empty. He stopped to take a break, to regain some energy, leaning with his elbow on one of the bar counters. Then, one by one, all of his previous thoughts began coming back to him. Here was a pony at the end of his rope, facing ruin and looking for a last way out, and if he did not find it, he might just go and drown himself. Before he was going to go back to Bouquet, as a final sort of atonement (or whatever you call it), to admit defeat in the unfairness of life, to see to the end that he delved down into the abyss, because he was not going to stop halfway. But then that train ticket, some new hope was enflamed, one which he did not, however, rationalize very much.

Suddenly a loud, almost ear-piercing screeching and violent inertia rang throughout the whole body of the train. Nova was nearly thrown face first into the floor. All objects that weren't tied down flung forward and crashed into every surface. Everypony in the train was thrown for a loop—they all immediately ceased what they had been doing at that given moment, some blocking their ears from the noise, others bracing themselves, feeling everything screech and vibrate as the train came to a hard stop.

A few more clatters spewed from the cogs, then all was confusion in the cold darkness. Nova slowly rose to his hooves. He could make out several other ponies—voices, movements, and the rest—shifting about and making noise, trying to recover their bearings. The hoof-falls from before continued, well in the distance, only this time more evenly and steadily.

Nova inched his way through the car, almost crawling, as it were, past the dead bodies.

And again more suddenness fell upon the train: it started to move again, this time by degrees, at a much slower pace. Hardly any inertia was felt by anypony. And it mysteriously stayed that way for the rest of its trip, as if the cogs had malfunctioned and could only execute a fraction of their full capacity.

Nova was evidently regretting that he had gone so far. He looked around the ruins of the car, and the disagreeable thought of its sight struck him; then, he felt fear, a new sort of fear unknown to him till then.

Am I being rejected by fate? he thought gloomily to himself. These hijackings are here... all because of me! The sole purpose of this train was to save me, but now that will not come to pass. He ground his teeth and struck himself on the forehead.

"No, this cannot be," he spoke out loud this time. "I was chatting about things I should not have been chatting about. I was ready for anything, was willing to supply almost any sacrifice to come to Fillydelphia, was ready to, in a word... eh... because I could never secure those cursed five thousand, and even now I will not secure them. The remainders I can transfer to bank notes. No, I should not have come, I should not have come with Airglow; no, I should have gone to Bouquet, my fate has been decided in the back lane. I belong in the back lane and nowhere else, certainly not in a high-class locomotive. I have to choose now..."

"Found somepony, Knob!"

Nova break off and stared at the source of that voice. He jumped off, staring dumbly at two of those ivory-suited killers. The one who wandered ahead must have been the leader—it was Knob!—with that hideous smile of his.

"Look who we have here," said Knob. "Did you lose your way, pal?"

"Forgive me, I've gotten confused," muttered Nova.

"What's that?" Knob rained an eyebrow.

"I recognize you, you are the pony who sealed my fate!" Nova fell on his rump and almost bowed down to the ponies in white. "I must accept it, I must accept my fate at full steam. Strike me down, I am a loggerhead of the basest order!"

"Wh-at?" Knob was dumbfounded. He cast a glance at his compatriot, but he was just as confused as Knob. "Buddy, do you even know what you're saying?"

"I know it, I know it all too well! I am a pony who has tested fate, wished to make a difference, but now all of that has been cast down to the sharks. I only belong in the back lane. No, good sir, I'm going to perish soon anyway, either now or shortly after I get my revenge," he noted with evident spite in his voice. "But I will no longer run away from fate. If this is my end, so be it, only I ask that you make it quick."

When Nova broke off his absurd little speech, he rose up and looked at the ponies before him with senseless eyes, awaiting an answer.

"Argh!" grumbled Knob. "No, no, no—this won't do!" He was puffing and steaming, almost beside himself, and quickly trotted right past Nova.

"Knob, wait up!" His friend followed suit. "Why'd you leave him?"

"I can't kill a pony who thinks they're gonna die!" exploded Knob with genuine anger. "Where's the fun in that? Argh! I wonder how the others are doing. How red do you think their suits are?"

"I can't really say..."

"I gotta hurry. I'm gonna lose the bet again!" And in a sort of rush, Knob began galloping into the third-class compartments.

Nova, in the meantime, felt that everything had fallen through, and, above all, that he had produced a lot of terrible drivel. That was my only shot at redemption, flashed through his mind, to go out honourably, but now I will be forced to face... He got up and started running, but did not take more than five steps when his hoof slipped on the loose corner of the rug; he fell, banged his head, and was knocked out cold.

* * *

While the whole situation of the sinister hijacking of the Flying Rift and the death of several dozen ponies by then could be categorically described as nightmarish, at least for the passengers, a new type of threat, which started off as a rumour, began all at once in an instant, which decidely frightened everypony onboard.

Far back in the train, at the cross sections between third-class and the freight holds, ponies began to disappear, but only the ponies in black and white. It all started when one of the ponies in white discerned screams of terror from his compatriot; he rushed in to see what the problem was, but he had become blinded by a red flash. His compatriot turned up dead. He ran away, to warn the others, but when running he noticed that same red flash following him from outside the window.

How did those "screams of terror" start?

Two of the ponies in white met up in the first freight hold. They were searching for something, scrounging about through the various cargo boxes, tossing things aside, making a mess; meanwhile the other one watched out for any tress-passers.

"You could help me, you know," grumbled the one who was searching.

The one on guard gave him a bemused, sidelong glance, then turned back. "Eh," he started, "give me a minute."

"Listen to him, 'give me a minute,' yeah right! I wanna find that damn thing more than anypony," he ended in a half-whisper, as if to himself.

Inside the cargo boxes thus far was little more than clothes, oil tanks, jewelry boxes, exports of quills and papers, oils, spices—a whole assortment of random items which held no value to the one searching. He would crank open the wooden top, throw it aside, scramble inside with nearly his whole body, and move on to the next one disappointed.

"Hey, you hear that?" exclaimed the pony on guard, after about half the boxes had been cleared. He stopped, ears perked, stretching his neck every which way, then stopping, then searching again as if he did not trust his ears.

"Wha..." The pony who was searching gave him a tired, sullen look. He scrunched his face for a second. "Are you off your pills? Of course I hear something: it's the blasted cog noises from the engine. By the way," he said again after a brief pause, in a lower voice, "what happened just then? The whole train halted, now it's going at a snail's pace. Was that supposed to happen? We ought to check the conductor's room. Did we send anypony to check that?"

But his friend's face was in earnest attention. "No, I had something else in mind," he said. He turned around, then suddenly froze, and stared for a long moment over the searching pony's shoulder; his eyes were wide, stricken by the most awful terror.

"What's the matter with you?" the other gave a start. He was taken aback by the fear on his friend's face; puzzled, he turned around to look at what was behind him, coming face-to-face with some shadowy thing: a silhouette, as if it popped off the ground, was sticking out against the backdrop of the freight hold; something red glowed sinisterly on its face.

The pony who was searching did not have time to react, and the other who watched barely remembered a thing, only the sound of rushing wind and the splatter of blood everywhere. He screamed at the top of his lungs and sprinted out of there as fast as his legs could carry him.

That whole cross section became a dead zone. Soon enough and the beans were spilt, that some "red light" was going about cutting these ponies down into puddles of flesh and bone. The doors would unexpectedly swing open. The aisle would rumble. Up to the second-class compartments, several of the ponies in white gathered.

"Huh, what're you running for?" Knob had asked him.

"Th... there... there's..." the pony was out of breath.

"Boss!" cried one of the mares in white, striding up to Knob. "Some thing is killing our own, it's out there, just at the freight holds. We can't get close!"

"But not the passengers! Not them!"

"Is it killing our friends in black as well?" inquired Knob with the liveliest curiosity.

"Y-yes, it is," confirmed his exhausted compatriot.

"You know what this means, right?" said a third pony. "The Railway Beast is here!"

"The... what?" The exhausted pony went pale, not having heard that mystical name before, but nevertheless ready to accept any explanation with the most latent fear.

"The story of the Railway Beast," the mare went on fervently, "it's a d-demon... that haunts the railways... legend says it kills for the fun of it, every thousand moons." Her face dropped. "It's painted marks of death on all of us!" she cried in a hopeless voice.

The exhausted pony fainted from fright. The had to drag him to one of the cabins.

"Are you serious?" said Knob, rubbing a hoof under his chin. "Railway Beast, huh? That's a thing? Interesting. Ve-ry interesting."

"Wait, boss, where are you going?" asked the third pony. Knob was walking in the direction that the "red light" was reported to originate from.

"Huh, where?" Knob stopped for a second, then he chuckled. "To meet this rough-and-tough 'Railway Beast.' What? Don't give me that look. I wanna see the thing for myself."

"N-no, boss, you'll die!"

But Knob did not respond.

* * *

Luckily for Airglow, she did not find any of those black or white suited hijackers; on the contrary, as she ventured onwards down the rail of compartments, she began to trot faster, encouraged by the sight of several passengers following one another to the freight holds.

Have the guards come to our rescue? she thought optimistically yet reluctantly, being cautious that she did not falsely bring her hopes up.

She reasoned that they were all gathering together for safety; but still, it did not make much sense to her that those murderers would all of a sudden give up. And yet, she was distracted by other things. The whole scene had turned to such a tragedy, it was hard to think straight. Ponies were dead. She had heard several shrieks of horror all around, and she understood why.

The only thing on Airglow's mind was to find both Nova and Sharp. They were further back in the train, and she was heading in their direction; her eyes were scanning every single face, every inch of every compartment; she was sure to bump into them, or at least one of the two. But this was proving to be a challenge, as most of the lights had somehow gone out, and in many areas she found herself wandering in the shadows.

But more screaming arose when, far ahead, Airglow caught sight of two ponies in white firing their little crossbows about. She nearly froze in her tracks, and was about to run back alongside a few of the other unfortunate passengers, but she observed that the ponies in white were not necessarily hitting anything. Airglow squinted her eyes through the dark, while simultaneously taking cover behind a table; but then there was a flash of red. The ponies in white, half-covered in blood themselves, rushed into the compartment she was in. She immediately went cold and ducked, covering her mouth with both hooves.

"Where's Knob, damn it, where is he?" one was screaming at the top of his lungs. The other did not say anything in reply, but was instead breathing very heavily. "These things are useless," said the first again, and she heard them drop their crossbows to the ground.

Airglow listened very attentively.

"Doesn't matter; we're out anyway," said the second at last. "Running around everywhere isn't helping; we still got the blackies on our chopping block."

"But—"

"Knob ran ahead, said he wanted to see all that bloody mess for himself."

"Well, alright, but how about we leave that to him and go back to first-class, huh? We can return later for the elixir..."

"Maybe... Hey, who's hiding there!"

They had caught sight of Airglow. She started to panic.

"Yep, I see you bright and clear, sweetheart. Come here!" The first one gripped the table providing her the insufficient cover and threw it away.

Airglow jolted, as if by instinct, and with all her remaining energy flapped her wings to the air; she took off quickly and flew down the compartment. She felt one of their hooves graze her hind-leg, almost having been grabbed.

She flew swiftly, straight into the darkness, gaining as much distance as possible. The thought that this was where they had come from didn't even cross her mind. All the while she heard the other two shouting and cursing. "She must have heard us!" and "She got away!"

She felt the weight of her body bump into several things on the way, from all angles, which confused her for a second; and by the third compartment crossed she stopped to give her wings some rest. She felt lightheaded, silently groaning in fear and agitation. She scuttled to one corner and looked around.

The first thing Airglow noticed was how incredibly spacious the place had become; colder, yes, and relatively barren, save for a single row of five or six crates placed together to her right. She picked up a roundabout noise as well, a strident stream of wind: a little gust of wind was sharply seeping in and tickling her hooves.

What is that? she thought. Her eyes were still adjusting, but she could definitely see that the lateral door leading outside was busted open somewhat. The cold air was making its way in. But the opening was barely more than two inches.

The whole wall is open, sort of. Did somepony do that?

However, her ears twitched at another sound. It was the sound of some sort of breathing, quiet yet heavy. She stood up, ready to run away, but to her surprise she stayed put. The breathing was not like the others she had heard. Something about it, in its inflections perhaps, put her at ease, as if it did not care to be discovered. Then it hit her: this must have been a passenger. She stared in the general direction of that noise for a whole minute, and in a slow gait wandered to it, scraping her hoof against the wall.

"Is anypony there?" she blurted out, though somewhat awkwardly. She stopped and bit her lip. "I-I'm not dangerous or anything."

"Is that you, Ms. Airglow?"

A look of blank wonder swept over her. She blinked several times.

"Feelgreed?" she asked suddenly.

The room started to rotate slowly; the cogs underneath screeched lazily. The little opening from the door caught a ray of the moon's light; indeed, that fellow Feelgreed, the one from Maxim's birthday, was leaning with both his shoulders pressed against the wall. He was wrapped in a dark blanket, covering his shoulders and head like a sunken hood.

"No way," said the astonished Airglow, making out the stallion's weary and unsustained features through the nightly light. She was going to ask what he had done to find himself in the doomed Flying Rift, but the strident fall of multiple hoof-steps sounded from behind.

Airglow froze, looking back in perplexity; she did not know what to do, engulfed as she was in a moment of hesitation. Feelgreed hastily fell upon her, pulling her into his corner and drawing her under his blanket. She very nearly yelped at such a sudden movement, but he held a hoof to her mouth. Things remained in a sullen silence, then a pair of ponies entered. While Airglow could not make anything out, being hid under the shade of shadows, I will say at once that these were the ponies in black; even if she could take a peek, she would find it difficult to discern any notable features.

"Start in the back," said one. The second hummed. They swept by the row of crates to the other end of the compartment, slid the metal door open, and slipped inside. The door screeched and shut once more, producing a hollowed twang which reverberated all around the compartment.

Silence ensued once more. The hoof-steps faded.

Feelgreed threw the blanket off and stuffed it under his shoulder. But he did not get up from his spot, unlike Airglow, who all but jolted.

"I'm terribly afraid to inform you, Ms. Airglow, that we find ourselves in a bit of a pickle, see," said Feelgreed.

"B-but what do we do?" asked Airglow.

"The freight holds go a ways back. We can... only wait, miss."

Airglow felt her legs go cold. Her expression was full of strain from trying to analyze her situation, though no matter how she shuffled it, her only conclusion was despair. The stir of the situation was still hot and dangerous further ahead; she could not risk to make any stupid decisions. She had gotten up, started to pace, but only took two steps and fell down to her rump. No, both forward or backwards would prove fatal.

"T-thanks for hiding me," she muttered at length.

"Why, I was hiding myself, make no mistake; I found this blanket here in one of the third-class cabins, just sitting there, miss..."

"Why are you here?" she asked suddenly, having just recalled. "I know you from that birthday at Golden Oak... which ended so badly..."

"Me? Well," Feelgreed began in quite a rueful voice, as if he were ready to take offence to something; he began stretching his lips. "I'm not with my children. They were left with a caretaker. I am here on something very official, something which can change the course of my life, if you get my meaning."

"Maybe, but..." Airglow drew closer and sat down, still a little shook. "So you remember me?"

"You think I wouldn't? Why, Ms. Airglow"— He began to get up, and Airglow quickly did the same —"I'm only here to find a certain captain. I must speak with him. It's urgent, official and urgent."

"Here? In the freight hold? So were you always going to travel in the Flying Rift?"

"That is correct, Ms. Airglow, it was part of the plan for a long time now. I managed a spot here by the skin of my teeth, and for the sole risk of finding this captain for my own entrusted sensibilities, for my own future. Do you suppose I will find him?"

"But forget any captain, the train is under attack!" cried Airglow in quite a different voice, puzzled by his overt priorities. "I thought that was why you're in the freight hold, to hide, right?"

"But can it be helped now? See, miss, here I am on this train, with the chief aim of coming back to my daughter and two sons—my daughter Penni, by the way, has gotten sick. She has consumption."

"Okay, but—" She placed a hoof on his shoulder and peered into his face. "Don't you see your life is in danger? You can't be thinking about that stuff now."

"But what am I to do now, miss?"

"I'm looking for my brother—and a friend of my brother's. But it's almost impossible with all this chaos. Maybe you can come with me? Yeah, we can stick together." She turned around and stared down the entrance from which she had come. "I'm scared those criminals will bust in here again, but it's the only way. They had said to 'start in the back,' meaning they'll probably work their way up."

"You're piercing me to tears, miss, worrying about my health like that," Feelgreed suddenly and ardently exclaimed. "Allow me a word, miss: my daughter Penni, and my colts, Remedy and Spark Whip—my litter, miss. If I die, who will love them, and while I live, who will love me, a little wretch, if not them? Yes, miss, I really must live. They were taken from me, my own daughter, taken by the authorities over some legal matter, and now I must win them back, which is the sole purpose of my visit: I must confide in this longed-for captain no matter the cost!"

"I get that your worried about them," prompted Airglow in a faltering voice; she paused, exhaled slowly. "Yeah... I get that, I really do. But right now you've got to stop screwing around. Don't you see"— She took a step forth —"we could die, just like that, along with every other passenger onboard."

Exclamatory cries of terror and magical blasts echoed from far away, from further down the series of freight holds. Feelgreed instantly looked at the door. Airglow gave a start, face going pale; she almost felt her heart give out.

"N-no... no way..." the hardly sustained-in-spirit Airglow murmured in a weak, woeful voice. Her pupils shrank; she started to mechanically step back in the opposite direction.

A whole cacophony of hoof-steps and crashes resounded at once. Some came closer than others, but all eventually became overlapped by the deafening scorches of magic.

"Don't spare them!" was heard. "Kill every single one!"

"They're there... the passengers..." she choked out once more, now having lost all hope. It finally hit her that either Nova or Sharp Heat—or both—may well have been taking refuge in the back, but it was all in vain.

"Run, run—we have to run!" shrieked Feelgreed; he galloped out of the freight hold, and Airglow, having regained a modicum of her wits, did the same. She knew that this fear was a weakness, that it would compel her to freeze in the wrong moment, that it would eclipse her reason, as so often happened to ponies. But right now she needed to steel herself and run. She had even forgotten about flying, so focused was she on getting away.

Unfortunately they were caught in a rush of third-class passengers, all of whom had caught wind of the slaughter and were hauling to the second-class compartments. Everypony was running, shoving, tripping over one another. This did not help the situation, because there was no telling what sort of attention this would bring.

Without considering it any further, Airglow broke through the crowd and slipped to the side, breaking her way into a smaller, empty cabin. The first thing she noticed was that the lock had been broken. She immediately tried to catch Feelgreed by calling to him, so that they could wait out the mess, but he was out of sight. It was no use.

She fall back, panting heavily, watching as the last of the passengers ran past the doorway of the small cabin; then a few more seconds went by, and she was alone. She felt like her heart was ready to explode out of her chest.