by J. K. Gray
The rest of the men follow his example. A few of them, however, bring out electric batons.
Michael grips his knives. His mouth curls into a smile. His left eye turns yellow and its pupil elongates.
Two of the men rush Michael at one. One has a baton, the other, a knife. The man with the baton strikes first, but Michael easily sidesteps the attack and responds by plunging a blade into his arm.
The Baton-man cries out and drops his weapon.
The man with the knife attacks next, swiping at Michael's face. Michael pulls back his head and slashes with his other hand, catching his assailant across the eyes.
Blood splatters the Baton-man's face.
The Knife-man screams and hits the floor.
Michael looks briefly over his shoulder. Two more men are approaching. He pulls the blade out of the Baton-man's arm and drops to his knees. He then plunges the blade he'd drawn across the Knife-man's eyes, into the side of the Baton-man's right knee, and twists.
The Baton-man wails and grips his knee.
Michael pulls the knife out of the Baton-man's leg and, no longer perceiving him as a threat, turns swiftly to address the other two men that have just arrived. Keeping low, he slices one man across both shins and stabs the other in the crotch. He then rises to a chorus of anguish, rapidly stabbing both men in various different places. At the climax of his assault, he slashes one man across the throat and embeds nine inches of steel in the other one's jaw.
Michael's toes curl and his body convulses. Someone has stuck him with an electric baton. Fighting off the current, he turns and sweeps the knife in his right hand at an upward angle, catching the left-handed administrator of the jolt under the armpit.
The man cries out and drops the baton.
"Save it," Michael says, and slashes him across the mouth with the other knife.
The man Michael had stabbed in the knee isn't out of action. He's lying on his back and bringing his rifle into play. He sinks multiple rounds into Michael's chest.
Michael absorbs the bullets then leaps onto the man. He rips the M4 out of his victim's hands then rams one of the knives through the top of his skull. He pulls the knife free then gets to his feet in time to engage two more men. They're both brandishing knives. They slash and stab at him, but are only moderately successful with their attack.
Michael moves so swiftly he's almost impossible to target. He goes back and forth between both men, stabbing and slicing with such ferocity he cuts through body armor and into bone. The sound of suffering floods the car before the men finally succumb to Michael's vicious onslaught. One of them drops with a blade still jammed between his teeth.
Michael hears another man advance quickly from the rear. He turns and throws his remaining knife. It catches the oncoming man straight between the eyes. The man's head snaps back and he goes down, baton still in hand. This reveals yet another man. This one is pointing a Taser gun.
Two probes strike Michael square in the chest. His body jolts from the initial burst. But it'll take a significantly bigger current than that to stop him.
The man operating the Taser frantically squeezes the trigger, trying to deliver as much juice as possible into Michael.
Michael tears the probes from his body then advances on the man.
Recognizing he's in a lot of trouble, the man discards the Taser. He reaches up and grabs the shotgun strapped to his back, but drops it when he realizes Rhodes is going to reach him before he has the chance to use it.
Michael takes a fistful of the man's uniform.
“Puh- please ...” the man says, unable to tear his gaze from Michael's strange looking eye, “we're not trying to kill you.”
“Is that your idea of not killing me? Shooting me with a shotgun?”
The man shakes his head. “No- I ... I wasn't going to kill you with it.”
“It's a shotgun,” Michael says. “You think I can grow a new fucking head if you decorate the wall with it?”
“Please,” the man begs, “I have a wife and-”
“I've heard it all before,” Michael snaps.
And he has heard it all before, but the panic-stricken man's plea has affected him. The color drains from his reptilian looking eye and his grip on the man's uniform relaxes.
... And then he feels a burning pain in his side. He looks down and sees the man has plunged a knife into him.
“You absolute motherfucker,” he snarls.
The sclera of his left eye turns yellow again.
Drink for us both, Michael.
Michael tears off the man's helmet and sinks his teeth into his victim's neck. The man screams and buckles at the knees, but Michael holds him steady. Eventually, the fight fades from the man and Michael feels sated enough to release him to the floor. He wipes his mouth with the back of a hand and turns. Standing outside the exterior door opposite is a man with tightly cropped black hair. He's wearing a light brown trench coat with its collar upturned.
Michael makes eye contact with him.
I know you.
At that moment, more Unicorn men pour in at either end of the car.
*
The Unicorn man drags Laura to the floor with him.
Laura stabs the man in the chest over and over. Blood splashes across her face and gets in her eyes, but still she keeps stabbing. “Just. Fucking. Die!”
The man's hand flops to the floor and one last breath escapes his lungs.
Leaving the knife embedded in her assailant's chest, Laura gets up off her knees. She's breathing heavily and trembling all over. Her hair is mottled with blood. From the corner of her eye, she sees the door at the end of the aisle open.
Amber stumbles into the car. She looks like she's been beaten senseless.
Laura starts towards her. “Amber?”
Amber collapses. Standing directly behind her is the demented looking woman in the torn pink top.
Laura slows to a stop. “You again.”
“Laura,” Wendy calls from behind, “what's happened to Amber? Who is that woman?”
Without looking back at Wendy, Laura replies: “I have no idea. But it's not a woman.”
“My name is Devinniel.”
Laura approaches Devinniel. “Like I even care.”
Amber moans and tries to pick herself up. Devinniel steps over her. It outstretches a hand to Laura and beckons for her to take it.
“If I take it, I break it,” Laura says. She snatches Devinniel's arm. But it's not an arm anymore, it's a thick red and black snake.
The snake coils itself around Laura's arm and hisses loudly. Laura gasps and tries to pull away, but she can't seem to break free.
Hideously broken laughter rattles from the darkness beyond Devinniel's twisted mouth.
Growing in length, the snake continues to works its way up Laura's arm, towards her head.
“Get off me!” Laura screams, and batters furiously at its thick, scaly body.
Bright orange flame bursts to life on either side of Devinniel. It rapidly spreads the length of the aisle, as though following a gasoline trail.
The sight of the combustion fills Laura with dread.
Devinniel's dark, elliptical gaze narrows in on Laura. Clearly intoxicated by her fear, it's mouth grins wide with pleasure.
Laura hears Devinniel's voice in her head: Never forget what Amara did to you.
The snake rears its head in front of Laura's face, and, for a moment, the woman finds herself lost to the serpent's twinkling eyes and hypnotic sway.
Never forget.
Suddenly, the snake strikes Laura in the chest. The blow, not from the snake, but from a large wood splitting ax, sends Laura stumbling backwards into Andred's clutches. He pulls the ax from her chest and discards it, then pins her arms to her sides with his own powerful arm.
Laura thrashes wildly. "Get away from me!"
Andred places a hand firmly over Laura's mouth and pulls her head to one side. He casts his gaze upon her soft white skin. His eyes blaze red. He opens
his mouth. Thick strings of saliva hang from his gleaming fangs. And then he strikes, puncturing flesh.
Laura squeezes shut her eyes and wails from behind Andred's hand. The pain in her neck is blinding.
He can't be here. This isn't happening. It isn't real.
... If it isn't real, what is Wendy reacting hysterically to?
As intimidating as the flames on either side of her are, Wendy's main concern is the large aching bump in her belly. She shakes her head in denial at what she's seeing then pulls the helmet from her head. How did she become this pregnant so fast? It isn't possible. Breathing rapidly, she pushes her back against the door behind, then pulls up her knees and places her hands on the growing bump. She feels like she's going to pass out from the pain. Everything has become a confused jumble. Her world has went insane. All she wants is to be at home, curled up in bed, knowing her parents are there to protect her.
Something inside her gives way and she thinks she feels her panties snap. She wonders if its her water breaking. She isn't sure what that should feel like, or how her underwear could tear. But what else could it be?
Wendy pulls up her skirt and peers between her knees, and what she sees isn't the contents of an amniotic sac, but a myriad of small red and black spiders, highlighted by the orange glow of flame. She screams at the sight of them running in all directions. A number of them scuttle up her legs. Frantically, she brushes them off, but they just keep pouring out from between her thighs. She tries to push herself into a standing position, but it's no use. Her trembling legs are too weak.
Smoke from the burning plastic seats enters her lungs, causing her to cough.
“Laura!” she screams.
Andred withdraws his fangs from Laura's neck and forces her, face first, to the floor.
“Stop it!” Laura protests.
Andred pins Laura's wrists behind her back and starts to bind them.
“This isn't real,” Laura says under her breath. “It isn't real.”
Devinniel crouches before Laura. It takes a handful of her hair and lifts her head. It looks into her frightened eyes.
“Leave me alone!” Laura cries. “Get away from-”
Andred stuffs a dirty rag into Laura's mouth.
An oily substance drools from one side of Devinniel's lop-sided grin.
Laura shakes her head and tries to spit out the rag, but for some reason it won't budge. It feels like it's glued into her mouth. She breathes in through her nose, inhaling smoke, then coughs violently into the gag.
Devinniel releases Laura's hair then stands. It watches Andred turn the woman onto her back and gaze lasciviously at her writhing body.
Laura struggles to free her bound wrists. How could this be happening to her again? How could something so clearly imagined seem so real?
Just then, the lights in the car briefly flicker then remain on.
Andred is no more and the interior of the car isn't on fire. Wendy has stopped screaming.
Everything is as it was.
No longer gagged and bound, Laura sits up and turns to see Devinniel looking straight at her. It has the point of a knife sticking out of its throat. It opens its mouth to say something, then crumples to the floor, revealing Amber.
“Amara,” Laura says, getting up. She instinctively touches Amber's arm, then, realizing what she's doing, withdraws her hand. What just happened to her, even though it wasn't real, was all so vivid. She even has a strange feeling in her chest, where the ax was embedded.
Never forget.
Amber sweeps her hair back from her face. She breaks a few tangled knots, and winces. Looking at Devinniel, she says: “We need to take out its heart.”
“There was spiders everywhere. It was horrible.”
Laura turns at the sound of Wendy's voice. The girl looks like a wreck.
“None of it was real,” Laura says.
“I know,” Wendy replies. “but it felt real.”
Never forget.
Amber crouches over Devinniel. She pulls the knife from the back of its neck and places it over its chest. She looks at Wendy. “You might want to look away.”
At that moment, Devinniel's eyes flick open.
“Amara!” Laura cries.
Before Amber has time to react, Devinniel grabs her by the throat. Amber stabs the knife at Devinniel's chest, but it clutches her wrist, preventing the attack. It then increases its considerable grip, forcing the woman to drop the weapon from her weakened grasp.
An anguished cry escaped Amber's lips.
Laura motions to assist Amber, then stops herself.
“What are you doing!” Wendy cries. “Help her!”
Never forget.
Laura steps away from the struggle.
“What the hell's gotten into you?” Wendy says. She motions to help Amber, but Laura grabs her. “What the...” Wendy pulls on her arm. “Let me go!”
“You'll get yourself killed,” Laura says.
“What do you care?”
Laura looks at Wendy. “You're pregnant.”
“So ... it's not like I'm keeping it.”
Laura's expression clouds over. “What?”
“I said I'm not keeping it, so let me go!” Wendy pulls her arm free and turns to assist Amber. She doesn't get very far before she's yanked back by collar of her jacket.
Laura hauls Wendy in front of her. “So you're going to kill the baby growing inside of you?”
“Yes,” Wendy says. “I hate it and I hate the guy who gave it to me.”
Laura tries to read Wendy's face. “You don't mean that. A child is a gift.”
“Then he can keep his fucking gift,” Wendy replies.
“You know what,” Laura says, simmering with rage, “you're just like Amara. A baby killer.”
Wendy's starts to tremble at the sight of Laura's eyes turning red.
Laura pulls Wendy close. Her nostrils flare. She can smell the girl's fear.
“Don't!” Wendy cries. “I- I might change my mind, keep it. Nine months is a long time.”
“Don't you dare play on my emotions,” Laura says.
“My boyfriend and I had an argument. He dumped me on the street. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be on this stupid train, wouldn't have been shot at a thousand times. Seriously, what the fuck do you expect me to say!” Wendy starts to cry. “Please, Laura, I just want to go home.”
Laura falters in her conviction, then screams with frustration and casts Wendy to one side. She turns her attention to Devinniel and Amber. Devinniel has Amber pinned against the end door and is in the process of drawing its razor sharp nails down the woman's left arm.
Amber squeezes an agonized wail past the tight grip on her throat.
Never forget.
“Get out of my fucking head!” Laura screams.
She runs up behind Devinniel and pulls it away from Amber.
Amber slides down the wall, leaving a thick trail of blood behind her.
Devinniel spins rapidly. It plunges a hand straight through the material of Laura's tank top and into her stomach.
Laura's mouth drops open and she looks down. The fire in her eyes fades all at once. A croaking sound escapes her lips.
Wendy throws her hands over her face. "Oh my God!"
Laura fights to keep her head upright. She reaches out to snatch Devinniel's face.
Devinniel sneers, then drives its hand up into Laura with so much force she's lifted onto the tips of her toes.
Amber crawls towards Devinniel.
Wendy is shaking her head and backing away. “I need to get Michael.”
“Wendy!” Amber cries. She reaches a vertical handrail and pulls herself up. “It's too dangerous!”
“I don't care,” Wendy replies, “we need him.” And with that, she hurries back along the aisle.
Devinniel wraps its cold digits around Laura's heart. “This is what you have always have wanted ... deep down.”
A bloody string of saliva hangs from one side of Laura's mouth. He
r eyes are closed and her arms are swinging limply by her sides.
Amber stumbles forward and collapses to the floor. She looks up, but all she can see is the back of Devinniel.
“Launa,” she says, breathing heavily. She opens her mouth to say more, but can't find the words.
Laura can feel Devinniel's gaze penetrate her mind. She knows this is finally it: the moment centuries of suffering comes to a close. She wonders if-
Devinniel rips Laura's beating heart from her chest and holds it aloft.
Amber watches Laura's body drop to the floor. She screams from the pit of her soul.
Devinniel drops Laura’s heart and turns at the sound of Amber's anguish. “Now, Amara, it is your turn to find lasting repose.”
*
Wendy enters the adjacent car. It looks like a slaughterhouse. And the smell. Michael is just standing there, surrounded by bodies. She's shocked at how awful he looks. His hair is all messed up and he's covered in blood. How much of it is his own is impossible to tell, but his nice silk shirt is in tatters and he has all sorts of wounds on his torso.
Michael snaps out of whatever trance he was in. “Wendy?” He walks up to her, blocking the aisle from view. “It's best you don't look back there.”
“It's a bit late for that,” Wendy replies. She regards Michael for a moment. He has such a caring look about him; such an attractive man. Suddenly, rediscovering the need for urgency, she blurts: “Oh my God, you need to hurry! It's killing Laura!” She grabs Michael's hand and pulls him along behind her.
They enter the car to find Laura dead and Amber struggling for survival against Devinniel.
Michael pulls free of Wendy's grasp and slows to a stop.
“What're you doing?” Wendy says. “Michael?”
Let her go, Michael.
Michael looks across the aisle at Amber; can see she's losing the fight.
“Michael!” Wendy shouts. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with everyone!”
Do you know why she has to die, Michael? Let me show you ...
Michael sees Amber. She's behind the wheel of a car. The day is bright, but not to the extent they're forced to remain indoors. The road ahead is long and winding. They're somewhere in Europe. He's unsure where, exactly, but he feels he knows, deep down. Amber's voluminous mane courses across her shoulders. She's wearing a bright tank top. She smiles at him. He feels a tickling sensation in his chest.