Tales of the Last Train

With the unrecognized opponent down for the moment, the Artist quickly turned his attention back to the little rat, just in time to see him fleeing down the aisle with his essentially-innocent accomplice and the sketchbook. "Come back here, you little imp!" he roared as he bolted after them. "What's left of you will fit in a microwave when I'm-!"

Unfortunately, this last threat went unfinished as it was at that moment that James shut the door, right at the last moment. The frenzied squirrel slammed body-long into the car door, stunning him for several moments. Once his senses returned, he flung open the door and continued pursuit.

He would sit up alone in the compartment rubbing his head slowly with a shake he tried to get it together and would climb into a seat putting his face in his hands he closed his eyes and began thinking about what just happened. Well at least he had bought the kid a little time to escape. He sighed slightly drifting off the boy sort of reminded him of his self back when he and his sister had been Orphans on their own stealing to survive. He chuckled and realized his throat was a little sore so he'd go look for something to drink.

“The souls you see here were simply foolish humans who couldn’t defend themselves once they lost their way. Hopelessly, they try to find a way to end their wandering, so that they can finally part with reality and move on. However, if they are found, they can be easily captured and used for one’s own benefits… Souls do have the capability of healing. That and they have a fair amount of energy to use…”

He sighed, and then shook his head. “Why are we not human? We aren’t human because we don’t deserve to be. Take it as you will.”

The girl’s continuous questions only amused him furthermore. He could tell that she was desperate to know, and would probably go crazy if he didn’t answer her. Then again, his answers usually made things much, much worse…

Barber turned around, his eyes now visible to the girl’s point of view. “Reality is the world where there is order and routines. Here, however… is a place where one can rest and get away from the worries that lie in the real world.” He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, this is real alright, it’s just out of the norm for a human.” He grinned, the corner of his mouth now visible. “This may be a world of fantasy… but it is also of pain and despair. Think of it as a delightful nightmare… Choose to go with it, or die… because you may never wake up.” He started to laugh, as if he was about to go insane any second now. “Make your decisions wisely… otherwise; the end to your dream may not be very pleasant…” He was unable to control his laughter, and his drill started to spin.

“And it may end RIGHT NOW!” He shouted, lunging at her with the dangerous tool.

Heather stared at the Barber, his eyes filling her with a sense of dread once again. The more he spoke, the more her heart would pound, her brain telling her maybe she should leave. She took a step back. Then another, until she found her back against a wall. Yeah, this was defiantly crazy and deadly. And certainly seemed like something that would start a nightmare.
She stared, fear growing in her eyes as he began laughing, her heart beating more heavily against... That's when he lunged at her, drill ready to pierce through her.

Managing to get her feet to move, she threw herself to the ground as he made contact with the wall, sparks flies as a hole was smashed through it.
Heather breathed heavily, unable to believe she just dodged that. No time to be glad; she stumbled to her feet, running-- throwing herself at the half opened door, throwing it back open and closing it quickly behind her.

Once it closed, she backed up away from it, nearly tripping over herself. She breathed, trying to calm her heart. Maybe she should run even further away? Yeah, that'd probably be a good idea.
She turned, running to the other side of the car and grabbing hold of the door, throwing it open, and slamming it behind her. And just for safe measures, she ran to the middle of the car to the seats with tables, and crawled under one. Better safe than, well... possibility of death.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


When the Artist entered the car, he'd come to notice it was a dark one. Done by the kids to ensure this 'new game' would be an interesting one. Now one of hide and seek. They both were around, but in this darkness they waited for their chance to make a move.

Barber twitched slightly as he missed the target, his arm now making a gaping hole in the wall. “Damn it…” He cursed lowly, a slight growl in his voice as he ripped his arm out of the indent. It hurt; however, no marks were left on his decorated arm. Angrily, he swiped his arm at the door with great force, slicing it in half and spilling splinters onto the floors.

“Don’t run! Hold still so I may KILL YOU!”

Swiftly, he floated through the doorway, swapping his drill with a rather large sickle probe. He grazed the walls with the sharp hooked end, causing a screeching to be heard. When he met with the next door, he swapped his clippers with a larger pair, swinging them in order to break the door down. “You can’t hide forever! I WILL find you! And when I do…” He grinned. “You’ll be SORRY you ever MET me!”

Finally, he went through the second car, scraping the sickle against the walls and dragging the scissors across the floor. Lifting them, he broke the third door down. In the middle of the third car, he stopped, inspecting it. He could feel her fear. He KNEW she was in this car.

“Where are you…?” He hummed slightly, switching back to his normal pair of scissors. “I apologize for my rudeness… You see, I tend to get a bit aggressive when I talk about touchy subjects…” Of course, this was a slight lie. He really could go insane at any time, but talking about certain things does make him go insane and crave the pleasure of ripping an innocent to shreds. “Come out, I won’t harm you at all…”

Heather kept as far under the table as she could be, her hands over her head as she huddle in a corner of her hiding spot. She closed her eyes, hearing the door break down. She did her best to stay as quiet as possible. Though, she was scared it would be possible to hear her heart, it was pumping so loud in her ears. 'Don't find me. Don't find me. Don't find me...' Her thoughts begged, unsure of what to do.
She opened her eyes, seeing him floating closer to the table she was under. Huddling her knees closer, she hide her face in her hands; going with the childish thought of 'if you can't see them, they can't see you.'

Him trying to coax her out made her shiver. She couldn't trust him, not after that happened. Not until there was some real assurance.. but even then.
This must be a nightmare, because she knows she'd had one like this before. Only real... this wasn't helping.

She needed help. She didn't want to die.
There had to be a way out of this. But how?

J would get up and would began to move toward another compartment his headache going away he decided to continue his search for answers and would enter an compartment with only one person he could see and that person didn't look friendly.. not friendly at all. He would stand in the doorway quietly watching it seemed the figure was looking around for something.

The Artist looked around the room rather quickly, but carefully. While he was quite mad with the miniature art vandal, he still had enough sense to think things over.

Even with a squirrel's keen vision, the car was still quite dark; the candles that provided illumination had all been blown out, leaving only the moonlight coming in through the windows. Too much effort to be merely a distraction so they could flee further down the train, given the glass around the candles made them fairly difficult to blow out; they had to be in this room, hiding somewhere. The problem was dogs and mice also had keen eyes.

Manually searching wouldn't be very smart; they could easily escape while his back was turned. He needed some way to narrow down their hiding places before they could do something nasty to that sketchbook.

He had an idea, but first he had to calm down a little. He took several deep breaths, trying to let his anger enough go that he didn't immediately give away his intentions.

Once he finally felt his rage at the little scamps subside, leaving the drive to finish the job and get the book, he spoke loudly to the whole of the car. "Why do clowns in the circus wear makeup?" A brief pause. "So their parents don't recognize them!"

(I may or may not be mistaken about the Last Train being lit by some form of candle.)

Noticing a slight shuffling under the table in front of him, he couldn’t help but feel satisfied now that he found her. “There you are…” He cackled, pulling the sickle out.

“This time, there’s no way OUT!” Barber raised the sickle up high, aiming for where he would think would be her heart. Once he aimed, he pulled his arm back and swung…

(HURRY TACKLE HIM OR SOMETHING)

He would run towards the sickle raising creature launching his shoulder into a tackle into the guys side to knock him to the ground the next goal was to get the sickle away from the crazy to defend himself and whoever he was trying to kill. he would try to punch the creature a couple of times as he struggled toward the weapon

“GRAGH!” Barber shouted as he was tackled down, now wrestling with the one who had knocked him over.

He growled, however, it didn’t seem like the weapons could be taken away. It was as if they were a part of him. “You want this…?” The insane spirit twitched. “Oh, I’ll give it to you… I’ll make sure it’s delivered right INTO YOU!”

Barber struggled to get a hold of this newcomer and repeatedly attempted to stab him, however, he missed due to the pressure of being weighed down. This made him rather frustrated, seeing as he was looking helpless… and he HATED that.

Heather braced herself to impact and, hopefully, a quick death.
But when nothing came she removed her hands from her eyes, looking to see the Barber had been knocked to the ground by someone.
She put a hand to her heart, having felt it stop for a moment. And not wasting any time, she quickly crawled from under the table and ran towards the door, putting her back against the wall as she witnessed the struggle.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a small chuckle from further down the car, followed by a "Shhh."

James was confident his hiding spot was the best. He literally had the higher ground and in the darkness, he'd blend in as luggage. It was perfect.

Mummy Dog, however, wasn't as good at climbing or originality. So he just hid behind one of the seats. They waited and watched for the Squirrel to try and find them. And they were also very ready.

In the darkness, it was very unlikely either of them could see the Artist's small smile.

"What is brown and sounds like a bell?" He took on a pseudo-vibration in his voice to say the answer. "Dung!"

As he had the man pinnned it was a desperate struggle. But his protective urge was in him and so he used the adrenaline to his advantage. He would throw a couple punches but it was inefficient use of his position. His head whipped toward the woman cowering against the wall and he roared. "RUN!!!" He began to move to try and get the Psychopath in an advantageous position including using the mans weapons on the man himself.

"QUIT IT!" He fumed, now shouting at the top of his lungs- if he had any. A few holes were poked into him due to the use of his own weapons against him, and a strange green liquid leaked out from the gaps. Barber growled, trying to get the upper hand, but was starting to feel rather discouraged. Who was this man? Why wasn't he afraid of him?

He flailed his arms around in an attempt to bash the man in the head, but was unable to reach. The only thing he could do was holler for help or to 'get this crazy man off of me', in which he would continue to struggle. He glared at the girl in the back, the look on his face saying 'this is all your fault.'

After that, he continued to flail around in an attempt to get his current enemy off of him.

The girl stared at them, trying to determine if to run, or to do something.

She looked towards the door, then back at the two, noticing Dental Barber's look, making her tense even more. That's when she noticed he was bleeding, and guilt began to eat at her. "W-WAIT! You don't have to kill him!" Could he die? Well, it looked painful, and she didn't want that.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The kids tried to muffle their laughter, shooshing each other even though they just giggled more. James looked down towards where the Squirrel was. He could see what he was doing. And even though they were funnier, it wouldn't help him find what he was looking for. But that wasn't important. Now he just focused on this game they were having.

He was enraged he jabbed dental barber as best he could with the mans own weapons till luck or maybe her words caused him to fall off and roll to the side where he quickly got on his feet glaring at the monster. "Run Away Now!" He growled this time speaking to DB. The girls protests had influenced him and he breathed hard trying to get his right mind back his blood wanted the stress relief of fighting and he was amazingly stressed. His mind raced for a brief moment the girl was replaced in his eyes with his sister and he grasped his head.

Satisfied his plan was working, the Artist took a few steps forward as he prepared for a rapid-fire salvo, so they wouldn't have time to recover between shots.

"Why did Humpty Dumpty have a great fall? He wanted to make up for a lousy summer!

Why is a moon rock tastier than an Earth rock? Because it's a little meteor!

What do you call cheese that doesn't belong to you? Nacho cheese!"

Barber glared, still having some fight left in him and no mercy to give. "You..." He growled, staggering up, using his sickle to pull himself back to an upright position, however slumped. "You'll PAY... for making me look like a weakling!" Removing the sickle from the wall, he was about to launch another attack until he started to feel dizzy, the loss of ectoplasm too much for his body to bear.

"Don't think that...I'll...be any bit nice to you...the next time we...meet..." His sickle scraped the wall one last time before he dropped to the floor, his consciousness fading. "...remember...th-at..." With his final word, he closed his eyes, now resting on the floor.

Heather watched as the Barber fell into unconsciousness. No fair, they were on a train! How was she suppose to avoid people!
She let out a sigh, feeling maybe she could finally calm down. She looked at the man, noticing he was giving her a strange look, and after what just happened, it nerved her a bit. "Um... Thank you... For help me." She managed to say. At least he was human, so it was nice to see a normal looking face.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The chuckles grew more and more, but it wasn't completely because of the jokes.

James' grin grew as the Squirrel was near under his sight. "Hey, I got one! How do you catch a squirrel?" He stood up on the overhead and jumped straight for the Artist, clinging himself to his head, "YOU ACT LIKE A NUT!" He laughed, covering the Artist's eyes as a game of hide and seek became a rodeo.

Mummy Dog laughed, running from his hiding spot to join in on the fun. "Wheeeeeeee!" He jumped at one of the Artist's legs, clinging to him as well.

He turned to look at her and smiled slightly. "Your welcome. Apparently attacking people comes naturally to people on this train. So may I ask why you are escaping reality?" He hopped over the unconcious body and began dragging him toward an supply closet to shove the crazy inside before coming back in hopes of recieving his answer.

"Gah-!" the Artist exclaimed, caught completely off-guard by his opponent's attack.

At least he succeeded in drawing them out of hiding. Now what? He'd have even more trouble maneuvering completely blind, and it was definitely going to hurt if he ran into a seat. And struggling to try and throw them off is probably how this little imp intended to get his thrills; he had no intention of giving him this satisfaction.

An evil little idea, however, quickly came to mind.

From feeling the position of James's body on his head, he quickly managed to grab hold of the enemy's arms, keeping him from getting off. "Heh heh. Nice joke, kid. Ready for my next one?"

With great effort he managed to raise the leg Mummy Dog was clinging to in front of him, and he started to hop backwards.

"A man walks into a bar..."

He silently prayed he would be able to keep as the puppy's weight on his raised leg caused him to hop faster and faster, moving quickly towards the car door he had emerged from. He would ram the door headfirst, and normally this would've stopped him... except he knew he had on a rather thick mouse-shaped helmet.

"...and says 'OW!'"

There was that topic again, like Dental Barber had said. "Well I..." The thing is, she can't remember wanting to leave it. She had a problem with reality and liked to daydream to get away from it but...

Honestly, she could feel some kind of ping in her chest when she thought about the things that got to her. "...I... I-I think I need to go find my... friend." She stuttered, jumping the subject. "Thanks again, I'm sure I'll run back into you." She forced a smile, turned, and ran to the door.

However, when she opened it, she wasn't expecting what was to come through.

The two kids let out some "WHOOOOAS" as they went flying back, about to crash into the door. When it suddenly opened, the trio falling into a better lit car and crashing to the ground in a heap.

He was going to say something else when he watched chaotic mass of falling creatures and the nervous woman. He sighed some maybe attacking the strange monster like he did had been a bad move on his part. To noone in particular he mused "I wonder if the Old Rat i've heard about is on this train." He then proceeded to the door on the opposite side of the car opening it to find it was hells chef's kitchen and he was busy and work making something. As the chef began to turn in his direction he closed the door and moved back to the quartet. "Well i'm not going that way that's for sure."

The light shining through the cracks in James's fingers was the only way the Artist knew he had not misjudged the distance to the door. Eventually, he was moving so fast his free foot couldn't keep up and he crashed to the ground. Of course, he fell backwards, meaning it was quite likely James didn't come out completely unscathed (depending on where on his head he was positioned). However, in spite of the fall, his hands still held fast to his attacker's arms; if anything he was holding tighter as if doing so would somehow stop him from falling.

"OK," he said rather calmly and matter-of-factly. "That didn't go quite as planned."

Heather may or may not notice that "hanging" from the Artist's shoulder via strap was her bag.