Off The Rails

Train 42 had left the station exactly ten minutes ago, speeding off from North to Central Station. Most of the passengers were doing trivial things to pass the time, reading, sleeping, playing handheld games, but one man was doing none of the above. Randolph D. Styxx was attempting to keep his mind together. After that verbal bout with the alchemist back in that warehouse, he needed something to take his mind off of that retched man. All of these people on board... they looked so tasty...

"No!" He silently exclaimed, clutching his stomach, head hitting the window. He couldn't let the urge take hold now. He repeated the process of bending his neck and then letting his head thud against the window several times, but it didn't help. Had he even expected it to do so? Probably not, but it was some sort of action to perform that didn't involve blood.

Ah... blood. It would bring so much peace to his thoughts if he could only have a small bit to smear across his face. The tranquility! The nirvana!

"NO! NO! COOL IT, STYXX!" Randolph screamed into his coat and curling into a ball, gaining him raised eyebrows and glares from those sitting close to him. It was so tempting though. So much flesh in one place, and no one who could stop him. It was so perfect! Why did he have to be subjected to such things? This was inhumane! Well... so was he, but that wasn't the point! He needed some way out of this, but there was none. There was no hope.

"THAT'S IT." the chimera shouted, causing the couple sitting ahead of him to jump nearly a foot out of their seats in shock. "I WILL NOT CONTROL MYSELF AROUND YOU... YOU... YOU PLEBES!" Stomping up to the door separating the main car from the conductor's booth, hands balled tightly into fists, Randolph kicked it open causing a shout of surprise from the man within.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" He asked, recoiling in fear, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull.

"Conductor," his voice seemed calmer now, a giggle slipping ", your services will no longer be required today." Grabbing the man by the arm, he then pulled and swung, in one fluid motion, sending the trainman flying through the locomotive's windshield. His green outfit quickly disappeared as his body rapidly slid under the wheels. Turning on the intercom, the man smiled as he looked back at the mortified faces of the people looking on in horror behind the doorway.

He then gave the best monotone voice possible, "Dear passengers, your ride must be interrupted for the time being. Don't worry, nothing is wrong, I'm just hungry. Any complaints can be taken with my fists, boots, and teeth."

The young man leaped back through the door, teeth dripping with saliva, and shouted, "IN THAT ORDER!"

This was not going to be pretty for anyone on board, except for one man, and he wasn't even human right now. The beast had grabbed hold and was going to take this train off the tracks.

Hmm... Dilemna.

Animos had broken tradition, the tradition of his very nature. He'd boarded a train, FILLED with people, because he'd seen it in a woman's makeup mirror. Paul McCartney's reflection. Did he have his walrus on him? No matter. Anim had boarded the train, but that wasn't even the worst of it. As he sipped his tea, a woman near him began to play the most frightening sounds on her portable musician.

"Who can it beeeeeee now? Who can it beeeeeeeee now?"

Who, who was it? Who was the man talking about? Anim shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Is it the men come to take me away? Why do they follow me?"

What? Wait, what? Men come to take him away? The music stopped, the woman had found him out. He was sweating, shaking. Apparently a man two rows up and to the left had also heard the words, for he too seemed about to crack. "Mister, is there something wro-" It came out as a gasp of air, a primal, terrified yelp of utter fear and anguish. "No, no, no, no, no, no, noooo, d-don't let THEM t-take me away, no, not again, no, never again, never, no, not ever, not again, never no, never ever, not again, never, never, never, nooooo..." The man stood up and charged at the door leading to the driver. Animos didn't care. Was he... Was HE the man who'd come to take him away? No, no, that was silly.

He wasn't wearing a lab coat.

Standing shakily, Anim walked slowly towards the door, eyes widening slightly as a man in white was flung out the window. He too must have been an escapee... Sipping nervously from his cup of fondue, he glanced at the man. With a monotone, un-head of from him, he spoke, not sure where the words came from, nor why he said them, nor why he said them in Amestrian. "What shall that be? What shall that be? When that fine moment comes. When the curtains are drawn, the windows are shut, the doors close, and you've written what you've written, you said it, that's it. What will you look to be? What about it, mister, when you've had your last beer. You laughed at family and laughed at your little wife. She begged you not to go out to that bar..." And as soon as that speech ended, one he'd known he'd heard before, he seemed to snap suddenly back to life, crouching again, neatly feral, eyes wild as his mangy black locks. "A-are you SURE th-that he d-didn't uhm... C-clog the uh... WHEELS, THE WHEELS, I KNOW THEY WANT TO STOP! THE WHEELS ARE WORKING WITH THE M-MADMEN, THEY WANT ME BACK!" Not waiting for an answer to what may have been a question, he jerked his kukri from his waist-sheath, hidden in the folds of his filthy coat, and slashed the bars of the train's aisles, then at a seat, slicing through the upholstery, and then slashing a man's thigh, before walking to the end of the train car, opening the back door. Wind gushed through his tangled hair, as he casually glanced at the wheels ahead. Gory, they were. The conductor had definitely struck them. A sip of fondue, and casually kicking the link holding this car and the rest behind the train together, and he returned to the car he was in, sitting calmly in the back rows.

What would happen when the front of the train left the other cars? Was it like a best friend backstabbing his other friends? How odd...

Randolph's laughter only grew as he watched the man jump from his seat and have what appeared to be a mental breakdown. As the events of panic unfolded, he could only clench to a seat to support himself, holding his chest with his other hand as the laughs grew in power. Then the man pulled a knife, slinging it every which way and hitting another passenger.

"Hey, hey, hey! Buddy! You're spilling my food!" Randolph was prepared to stop him, but froze in his tracks as the madman disconnected the back cars. What the hell was he even doing? Randolph could only assume these to be acts of fear-induced insanity. Stepping forward slowly, as to not freak this guy out anymore, he was forced to stop as a burly man leaped from his seat and put him in a headlock.

"Cute." Randolph giggled out, and let his body go limp. The man laughed back, speaking something in a language Randolph had no understanding of, and that's when the chimera made his own move. Turning his own body within the man's arms, almost snakelike in motion, Randolph kidney-punched him, and then kicked him to the floor. "Please cease your insanity for but a moment, stranger. This man has my teeth to speak to next."

Jumping on top of the mound of muscle, Randolph held both of the man's arms down, keeping his legs steal with his own. Opening his mouth, his jaw seemed as if it would unhinge before he finally clamped down on his prey's neck. Blood bubbled out of his mouth and the victim's before the hijacker jerked his entire body back, spine seeming to bend unrealistically. Chew. Chew. Swallow.

His back still arched, Randolph looked at Animos, his eyes widening as his own blood began to rush to his head from the position. He then spoke again, licking his lips all the while, "You may... mmm... do as you... uhm... wish now." He then jerked his body back forward and tore into what was left of the corpse's throat, the other passengers either screaming, wailing, or already passed out from the sight.

Had Animos heard the laughter, he may have responded, he may have felt a little insulted, actually. Likewise, after moving away from where he was, slashing out at any and all threats, he didn't notice what the guy said, nor did he particularly care. And of course, he unhitched the train and sat down, now finally paying more attention to the man, sipping casually from his fondue, a scene of simple calmness in the midst of terror, panic, and confusion, truly the eye of the storm in a hurricane of cannibalism, death, and destruction.

Mind you, he'd been about to warn the other madman about the men coming to take them away, who would come in white suits and white vans, seemingly from nowehere, with the aid of their undercover operatives,a pleathora of people disguised as normal civilians. They would come from nowhere, capture men who saw the world too differently from themselves, including Animos. He was sure of it, they were after him. And, of course, the Stilton Ranger had no time for these shenanigans! He had to wait for Cheese-Man's signal over the library at Central, and then go on a vigilante crime-stopping spree to rid the world once and for all of the Blue Cucumber and his vile plans. In fact, maybe this man had seen Cheese-Man. But, as it would be impolite to interrupt his meal, he merely sipped his fondue and watched, with the same curious, yet fearful, eyes that he would give to anything and anyone as they were, be it a butterfly floating on the breeze, or a crowd of people in white suits and sunglasses, as he'd once seen in Creta.

Ah, goodie. Soon, the man stopped eating long enough to turn to Animos and tell him to speak. So he did. "I-I don't th-THINK we've much t-time left... They'll b-be ON us like roche-ees s-sooon... S-save yourself, h-hungry one." First, his dire warning. Followed by a radical shift in tone, becoming considerably less dark and mysterious, rather, more friendly, casual. "S-so, have you seen the Cheese-Man too? He's GOT s-silver hair and a n-nice h-HAT. Surely, you've s-seen him? I'm TO w-w-waiiit outside the Central Library for h-his signal. YET, I d-don't know what h-ah-p-p-ppened to the PLACE s-since it b-blew up." Some passengers were certainly dumbstruck as he sat there in the corner of the train's seat, casually chatting with this serial killing cannibal... He didn't notice.

Having eaten most of the man's flesh from his face and upper body now, Randolph gave a belch and then chuckled. Standing up, he turned to the pale skinned man who was now sitting calmly in his seat, drinking a liquid of some sort from a teacup. Blinking, he then walked over to Animos, squatting in front of him, and smiled.

"Silver hair and... a hat... You mean Ayden Derocha? The alchemist? Yes, I know him, he was just in North." Another laugh. "Cheese-Man, eh? HA! I guess you could say he's quite... Legen-dairy!" Jumping up, he then walked back towards the conductor's booth, giggling maniacally all the while.

"You say the dog will be in Central? THEN LET'S GIVE HIM SOME FIREWORKS! EVERYONE LOVES A BIG BANG!" Ripping up the metal flooring, bending it back, he found the brake lines. He smiled, mouth opened wide. This would do the trick. Slowly reaching down, making sure not to harm himself in the process, the chimera pulled up several wires. Dropping all but the largest of them, he howled in laughter as he jerked it, ripping it apart from the train.

"Who needs brakes at a time like this! We should be going FASTER!" Placing a hand upon his knee, he lifted himself back up and looked around at the people left on board. "Any volunteers for my next meal? I have quite the appetite... heheheh..."

WHAT!? This man had SEEN Cheese-Man!? Not only that, he'd been entrusted with his secret alter-ego, the so-called "Ayden Derocha!" Ayden by dawn, Cheese-Man by tea time! At the phrase legen-dairy, however, Animos didn't quite get the pun, but rather nodded, as Cheese-Man was indeed an awe-inspiring figure of importance to the modern world and society as a whole.

But before he could comment, the man gave a LOVELY suggestion! They really COULD pop on by Central to find Cheese-Man, and greet him with a big bang! Then, as if the man hadn't already been kind enough to Animos, he chewed the brakes off the crazy train it had become! They could just keep going faster and faster and faster and faster until they got there!

And at that point, the man requested a volunteer for his next meal, just as Animos saw a man sneaking up behind the guy, wielding a baseball bat. So ANimos calmly stood, outside the man's vision and flung his fondue at him.

Searing hot cheese flew, almost in slow motion, through space-time and collided with the attacker's face, as his shrieks exploded, due to the hot nature of the cheese. He dropped the bat and fell down, clawing at his burning eyes, as ANimos sipped more fondue, curiously watching the man, before looking at Randy and pointing pointedly at the man; "H-him?"

Spinning around, surprised by how large a splash came from the cup, Randolph looked down at the man. He was now clawing at his face, the hot fondue burning his skin. Crouching once more, Randolph lapped a bit up with his finger, and then sucked on it a bit before comically spitting and falling backwards.

"BLEH!!" He then stuck his tongue out, trying to bat the horrible taste away with his hands. "CHEESE?! UGH!!!"

Jumping back up, he simply kicked the man away from him, picking up his baseball bat and breaking it. Pointing the splintered handle at him, he only laughed as the yellow liquid only stuck to his hands as he tried to get it off.

"Trying to be the brave one, eh? Well..." He then placed the handle within the man's mouth. "Bravery has no place here. This train is going to become my next big hit, you see. I'm going to prove that I'm more than just some random killer." He then stood at full height, placing his foot on the top of the bat-handle. "So sorry you couldn't live to see it."

Ignoring his gargled pleas, Randolph forced the wood through the back of the man's skull, blood mixing with the puddles of cheese on the ground. Soon the yellow and red mixture had formed into a sickly, off-brown color.

"Now then, sir, I never got your name, but that isn't important at the moment. You said earlier that men would be after us, hmm?" He turned his head, smiling at Animos. "We can escape from them, but first we must get off of this train before it meets its destiny at Central Station. It would be such a shame to lose a mind as interesting as yours in this mess."

Animos watched curiously as the man licked the cheese from the other man's face, now steamy red from the searing hot cheese. The madman fell backwards as the power of the cheese overwhelmed him- expected, of course. Only two people in the world could handle the power of the cheese. No mere mortal was able to taste the cheese and come away unharmed, particularly if they taste cheese through their eyeballs, like the writhing, now dead man did. How did a broken baseball bat wind up in his head anyways, ANim wondered, having not paid attention to the madman. Ah well, it was pretty normal. People occasionally had things sticking out of their cranium, aye? Of course they did.

Then the madman spoke again, and Animos listened. He'd never gotten his name? Why of course not, that was silly. Why should Animos give the man his name? It was his name, this man should just find his own name! Anim quite liked his name, he wouldn't even ever sell it for a jar of pickles! Then the madman with no name spoke of the Sadmen in the silly white coats, and Animos solemnly nodded. "They'll c-catch us, like they d-did before. B-before w-WHEN I w-was little. I don't like hugging mys-SELF... I d'don't wanna go BA-Aaaack..." Oh-ho, and he spoke again! If they got off the train before it got to Central, they'd be safe! "Oh, o-okay! B-but won't thEY kn-know where w-we went? The p-PASSengEERS. I-I think you sh-sh-have to k-kill them, so we don't get found. It's nearly t-tea time anyways. Do p-people taste like fr-fresh scones?"

Yes, he was right. They couldn't hope to get away from here without word spreading if they didn't do something about the remaining passengers. That's when another brilliant idea struck the chimera. He didn't have time to eat all of them before they arrived in Central, but he wouldn't have to. Even if the passengers here did somehow survive, would their word even be believed? Chimera weren't exactly known for hijacking and crashing trains, and even fewer were known to be smart enough to pull something of the sort off.

"You!" He pointed at a young boy sitting next to whom Randolph could only presume was his mother. "You will be coming with us. I'll need a snack."

Grabbing the child by the waste and tossing him over his shoulder, he then snapped his neck. Squirming just would not do. The mother tried to lunge at Randolph, but he simply kicked her back as he opened the roof-hatch and jumped up to the top of the train. The wind around him felt magnificent, and the view was astounding. There was a turn coming up just before they would reach Central Station. That would be where the train would meet its doom.

Looking back down through the top of the train, he locked his eyes on Animos and reached his hand out to him. "The men in white won't be coming today."

It was safely tucked away in his wallet, the ring--Shu's engagement ring. He kept taking it out to look at it, but once he boarded the train, he kept it out of sight. It wasn't because he was afraid of pickpocketers or anything, hell, he could rob them before they even saw him as a potential target; it was because he was afraid of what he'd do to them. Spade's emerald eyes flashed dangerously from his first class seat, his legs leisurely crossed and lax. The scenery outside slowly transitioned from snowy landscape of nothingness to scrawly trees and then to the suburbs of his city. Ah, almost home. He was reading a book he lifted from Shu's room--something about vampires and detectives. He didn't know why he was reading it, but hey, it was something to do; it passed the time. Main character was kinda weird, strangely reminded him of himself. It was like looking in the mirror and pointing, seeing the other guy point back, and being like 'da fuck?' Seriously, those situations only really happened when you're drunk, but. Same difference. Back to the ring. It was his mother's; she gave it to him eons ago before she was brutally murdered by...his deranged kid brother currently ruling Xing. Still didn't really get over that. Family issues. Ugh. So this ring wasn't given to his mother by his fucktastic father, but instead was an item passed down from her mother. She was the eldest of four sisters so she obtained it. When she kicked Spade out of the...palace at age sixteen to go make money, that was something she sent him with. That precise ring was now in his wallet, resized, fitted, and ready to shine on Shu's hand. If nerves could kill...

He didn't even know why he was nervous it was just that-- was the train getting faster? Faint screams, shuffling in the other car. Spade was on his feet and at the door. The car housing the conductor as well as the controls shifted one step ahead of their car, making it hard to focus, but...was that?! "Dear passengers, your ride must be interrupted for the time being. Don't worry, nothing is wrong, I'm just hungry. Any complaints can be taken with my fists, boots, and teeth." Spade moaned, running a careless hand through his wavy brown hair. Really? Right now? Couldn't this terrorist bastard play Hannibal on train 43? These people were lucky, well--Spade glanced back--save for the conductor, and ohh there went the brakes. Fuck. He stepped out of sight, a man of action, but a cautious man of action. He lingered just beyond range, his eyes laced to the window where he saw a separate crazy burst en scene, launching himself to the door, and flinging it open. Conductor, sliced thighs and all, was flung, wobbling into the speeding wind against the bar that connected Spade's car to theirs. Ouch. A weapon was raised and shut down like a guillotine upon him and the thick-ass chain that was threaded around the bolt. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit.

Spade flew into action the second the man went back inside, talking to the man-eating nutjob. What he did was use his watch. Yes, his watch--his watch that was relatively untouched since the war with Drachma. Steel wires sprung from his fingertips like webs from a spider, twirling lightly around the leading train car. All the cars behind Spade and the one he was currently standing it lurched with the sudden pick up of speed. People looked around--people started seeing things. Most of all, people recognized him and started whispering. Yep guys not a circus act. Spade held up his hands and raised a finger to his lips, leaping off the end of his car and into the one in which... Was that cheesewizz? Double take right there. Fondue? Cheddar? On a guy's face that was...half eaten? "You!" SHIT HE'D BEEN SPOTTED!? Spade slid sideways further, sucking in a deep breath and holding it. Alkahestry at the ready, he was prepared for anything...except the fact that the dialogue was not aimed at him. "You will be coming with us. I'll need a snack." ...What? Spade drew back to where he was, peeking through the glass. OH SHIT. He threw open the door with wild eyes. SNAP.

..........

It was over. Just like that. A child's life ended. The monster holding his limp body shed hardly a thought about it--knew not the weight of what he just did. In dramatic motion, the mother mindlessly threw herself at the beast, wailing in a voice so inhuman Spade's skin crawled. He swayed, holding himself up by a toe, a strange wetness in his mind, but not in his eyes. What could that life have become? Just a budding flower picked on the side of a country road. Even a picked flower saw smiles: handed to a sweetheart, roasting in a vase on the kitchen table... But this...this was unbearable. The top hatch of the roof was disengaged, the creature climbing out onto the top, enjoying it. Why did this world have so much death in it--with alchemy that could create vermin like this--with events that could warp minds into a frenzy of mindless garble that held knives? "The men in white won't be coming today." Spade looked down at himself: black sweater, jeans. White, nope. A hand was outstretched towards the black-haired babbling fool who killed the conductor and almost cost Central a boat loud of cash Spade didn't have the expenditures for. That's my cue!

Spade sprung out from his spot and took the hand, shaking it. "Nope, but the head of Central military is glad to fill their shoes...for now." He didn't let go.

Animos watched as the man grasped the child and snapped his neck, the mother frantic, but unhelped. Animos winced as he head the snap; deep within his mind, three personas were reacting seperately. As Animos, he didn't care. The nice man helping him escape deserved nice things. Snacks were nice things. So if pople were snacks to him, that meant eating people was like having a nice thing. Gooooood.

At the same time, Blade was pure bloodlust, trying to force his way out and show the world how and why he'd recieved that name, Blade, from the white-coated ones. He felt that the mother should be reunited with her child, as soon as possible.

Likewise, the one called Jack Max, considered by psychiatrists to be Anim's normal personality, taken over by the other two (amateurs had no idea what they were talking about, the quacks and shrinks!), was deeply disturbed by what he, through Anim's eyes, had just witnessed, and had entered a primal rage unlike his ordinary persona. And he was trying to break free.

Ignoring this, though, Animos reached for the somewhat bloodied hand of Randolph, only to be intercepted by the hand of another. Looking at the man in surprise, he slowly raised his tea cup to his face, sipping fondue... And had a spit-take when the man mentioned he would replace the men in whites' duties! Without a word, just a now-terrified expression and a panicked whimpering now and then, he retreated, slowly at first, before making a full speed charge for the nearest window. Shiftng gaze from the window to the new man every few seconds, he frantically opened it, placed his teacup in a hip-pouch(?), and grasped the window-frame tightly, throwing a leg over. He started the climb to the top, and after finally making it, clung to the top of the train for dear life. Hmmm... Why was he up here again?

Nikolaus had an itch to soothe, an itch he can't scratch, an itch without an ending as he found himself in the most mundane routines being performed day by day without an end in a loop manifest Ouroboros. He HAPPENED to have been in the same train as Spade Aeries, whom he HAPPENED to have decided to accompany, it isn't like Central will be destroyed without his presence for a single day... oh wait, it did, back in the 'Dietrich war' as the kids would call it, but then again, it's not like he can't stay in touch with the modern commodity that is the cell phone to which would send him in quite a fancy communication upon a press of a button to call his subordinates. Hugging his saber tightly to his shoulder, caressing it with a disturbing allure for a bladed phallic metaphorical representation of masculinity, Nikolaus took care to actually give threatening glares at places with evil eyes of his. He was in a train car, and train cars tend to be most vulnerable to RIOTE attacks.

Whichever the instance, Nikolaus vomited out boredom, he wished for some attack to occur on this train, SOMETHING itched him to actually pull out his loaded arms on him AT THIS VERY MOMENT and shoot something. See, he could never leave without his guns, they were like his wives to him, prompt them enough and they'll kill something, just like real women. Except at least guns can be holstered, whereas Nikolaus's most enlightened view on the fairer sex would be that of a commodity if anything than an intellectual equal to his very own being. In that regard, he sees guns as a better thing, they were often a very great selection of options to pick from, and all sold, and unlike prostitutes, they don't give syphilis! Or whichever abominable disease that is rife upon those in such a colorful occupation.

Then like the gaping anus of a salvation come true, the voice in the most womanly as possible monotone to grace the speakers floods the trains that prompts Nikolaus's otherwise unhinged attention, "Dear passengers, your ride must be interrupted for the time being. Don't worry, nothing is wrong, I'm just hungry. Any complaints can be taken with my fists, boots, and teeth."

He had a glimpse from a train farther back from the rest, knowing that Spade has taken a closer seating to those maniacs as he bided his time like a magician, loading his shotgun as he made a gesture to the rest of the passengers to shut the Hell up so he can get on his business. These people... whomever he was, those terrorists have picked the WORST TRAIN to get for Central. The Central Commander and the Chief Director of Security were both on it, the WORST PEOPLE EVER to ever meet. Goddamn they were fucked. Loading his shotgun with the dragon's breath round (not an actual dragon's breath but rather an incendiary round that combust people into fiery demise.)

He peered through the windows that comes from each train car separated by such a door to present such an opportunity as Nikolaus grasped forth the visual optic to perceive the lives to which envisioned manifest in his very own eyes. His saber could be drawn, but the shotguns could be better utilized. They didn't spot Nikolaus, and Nikolaus could see Spade going about in his own business. Good man, it means he can partake in his own endeavor while Spade kept them distracted from the same car the others were at two cars ahead of Nikolaus's own car. Having caught a glimpse of Randolph going up the roof, albeit in such a mannerism as to not be able to perceive Nikolaus as to not see the direction whence he came gave him an idea. The Chief Security Officer takes off his hat, and puts it into his pocket, opening the window as the windy roar from outside ensued, he took care not to hit any obstacles as he climbed up. It was by circumstances that it would not be the same as any others as to be spotted. He needed to act quickly and move fast. Stealthily donning his cowl of sneaking about as the attention thankfully was lacking on the former black ops assassin that is Stuka.

---

With such great alacrity, he took a fast stroll through the train, keeping his footing the entire time with skillful acrobatic balance, shotgun drawn to have made his way swiftly to where the Styxx-man was at till he overlooked the maniac easily within his range from the tyke's back facing Nikolaus's fornt, sawn-off shotgun pointed at him, training the aim at his central body mass that being his back as he stood in the same car at this point after making his way to this point fast. Only three feet away, but that's enough a range for the shotgun before pulling the trigger. To have made sure to have looked about and around for any incoming tunnels or anything... which is to say a turn. He needed to finish this quickly lest he needs to actually assert even further traction and keep a better hold on the train than to stand up quite imposingly so.

"The men in white won't be coming today." The voice mumbled from the roaring strong winds that comes from a fast train. Truly circumstantial and an act of quickness to have caught up in such a way and circumstantially lucky too.

BANG! BANG!

The shotgun spewed out flaming bullets twice in a spread, as the gun itself was unloaded. Quickly taking glances around in excitement to see if his speculation was correct and this man was indeed a terrorist to have more compatriots, just like Central's very own train hijacking years ago, given such a modus operandi such as this tended to have more gang members. (As inaccurate as Nikolaus tends to be in his speculations and so on and so forth.)

"CHECKMATE" He grins delightfully, licking the top of his lips as he savours the meal to be that is Randolph Styxx, his prey. For his sights were already set on the little boy with great hunger that is his own stigma to bear unknown to the rest.

Jerking his hand away from the man, Randolph flinched for a moment. The military? Oh, wasn't this just a fine day to go mad from hunger. Karma was, indeed, a bitch. Peering down, he was relieved to see his comrade slip away from the officer and make his way out of a window further up. Looking over to the head of the train, if only to make sure the scrambling madman made it up to the top safely, he once again froze in place as another surprise burrowed within his ears. First a soft padding noise against the harsh winds, and then a click.

BANG!

The first shot fired, as Randolph moved to the side in caution, the ammunition grazing him, the incendiary burst eating through his shirt. Before the second shot could be fired, the chimera leaped back down into the train, meeting the first officer face to face.

BANG!

Sparks flew down from above, and Randolph's smile grew. This may have been troublesome, but he had yet to be met with such a silent assault. Most people with the Amestrian Military weren't as prone to keeping themselves unnoticed. Wiping his mouth and dropping the child, he then took a few steps back.

"Well, well, well... The dogs seem to have sniffed me out. But what is a hound to a bloodthirsty predator such as myself?" A giggle before continuing. "Yes, quite the fight, but keep in mind who is higher on the food chain here."

A quick spin, and the man's heel came flying towards Spade. Randolph wasn't going to be put down so easily.

"You saved me the trouble of telling you to drop him," Spade hissed venomously. Jade fire narrowed in admonishment, his head ducking slightly to avoid the sparks of the second bullet. Those eyes skimmed sideways, catching Niko in the limelight. Better late than never. Silently, the other killer slipped away, alluding to the detective that he was not a conspirer, but merely a batshit crazy onlooker who had a thing for knives and fondue. Ever since Central's institution for the criminally insane got a budget cut, Spade had been encountering more and more of the lost. Most ended up dead...or worse, causing such deep trouble that bullets were fired instead of warnings. His handcuffs ached at his sides, the dead boy's eyes staring blankly into the void of his already ruptured soul. The brunette found himself staring back, stringy hair hanging down to his chin in vague curls. But...he could have had a life. He could have lived. One second sooner and he would have had that life--he would have been more or less okay. But right now, his eyes were open and unseeing. No matter how many times Spade stared into the eyes of the dead, he never could get over it.

Watching the black-haired one's form retreat through the open window (which shouldn't open at all), Spade couldn't help but wonder if he let down his guard for a moment would he end up just as deranged as some of these folks? At the same time, wondering was only wondering, never venturing any further than the brief inkling of a thought coming to the surface in a sea of scrutinization. Spade grit his teeth together. "Yes, quite the fight, but keep in mind who is higher on the food chain here."

"I don't want to know where you got your education, Bucko, but just so you know, humans are the top of the food chain...and you're only part." Spade blocked the bastard's leg with an arm, his other splaying wires all over the compartment like a web of steel. Who was the prey? Writhing inside of him, the Dragon's Pulse reared its mangy head, blaring beastly jaws that ignited the energy within Spades empiric blood. The circle glowed as if in darkness, the chimera's sensory perception shattering within the alkahestrist's grasp. One-tenth of a second in the past, time slowed--or seemed to, the chimera moving just slightly slower than Spade as the wires stowed themselves into an intricate design, inhibiting escape. With hardly inches to move, he ducked under the blocked leg, the barrel of his revolver shoved into his thigh. When Spade pulled the trigger, he looked the man--the chimera--the creature in the eye and wished--wished he would have come quietly...because this was only a warning shot.

Randolph's eyes grew still as he looked upon the man's face. Time seemed to slow around them, and the chimera could not move. His leg held in place, the gun pushed into his thigh. It all seemed so ethereal. One thing did not change though. Randolph's smile still shone aboard this train. This would not be his undoing. This was no fitting end to his tale.

The bullet ripped through his jeans, receiving little resistance from his flesh. Yes, he had taken bullets before, but not at this range. His skin exploded open, the bullet diving into his muscle, narrowly missing the bone, and erupting like a crimson fountain on the other side. Silence ate its way through as the echoes of the gun shot rang within the train.

Bdump... Bdump...

What was that? That beating sound... Was it Randolph's heart or the man who had fired? Or could it have been both? The chimera didn't dare scream, a slight chuckle arising as his own blood began to pool around them. It was even splattered upon his own face. His eyes began to calm, his brain working its magic by releasing endorphins into his bloodstream. The pain began to subside, numbing slowly. With each beat of his heart, however, the pain came back once more, only to subside again.

"Heheh... heheheh... I don't know what to say..." Randolph calmly slid his leg away from Spade, slowly allowing it to touch the ground. Those were the last words he would recall speaking in this moment. The beast's eyes began to grow clouded, and then rolled back into his head, smile growing. In an attempt to keep fighting, to continue living, his mind blocked his consciousness. All that remained was blood lust and hunger. Primal instinct had grabbed hold.

A roar came from his throat, hands clenched out to either side of him. His body pulsated and convulsed as he stood there, muscles tightening.

"YOU PLACE YOUR RACE AT THE TOP OF THE FOOD CHAIN?! YOU ARE NOTHING BUT AN ANT AT MY HEEL! A MERE SPECK IN THE PRESENCE OF THE NEXT GREAT LEAP INTO EVOLUTION! I AM A CHIMERA, YOU ONLY EXIST TO BE ONE OF MY NEXT MEALS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

He then leaped at Spade, teeth aimed at the officer's throat. Randolph had no care if this was the end of him now. Randolph was gone. Only the shark remained.

[Spade is leaving this thread so just continue as if he was never there.]