Narrator
The Several Hours Abel had been on this dumb train have been Actual Hell. Did he die? Was THIS his comeuppance? He’d kept himself tightly wound so far. He’d talked like normal with strangers. He’d dealt with the embarrassment of crawling around. He’d dealt with the freezing cold, the barren wasteland, and then the stupid “outdoors” train station. He’d even been calm about the dumb magic that’s been getting them Out of each car.
But this.
This?
A Killing Game?
What WAS this? Some anime plot? What Purpose did this Serve?
It didn’t really matter, though, because, the killing game? That’s his breaking point.
The fear was largely unregistered. He didn’t know how to register it when it came so Fast and Hard it absolutely Shattered the dam- letting himself instead be flooded with all too familiar Rage.
“Is this serious?” He asked almost incredulously, “You’re really going with this? This is what you’ve Chosen as… What? Our divine retribution for getting on some train we don’t recognize?” He strided towards Neko-Neko. He’s shaking. He felt like he’s Drowning in this.
“You’ve decided we’ll pay for what exactly? What do you need? Surely this is more than just entertainment? Are you hoping putting us under duress will lead to our ransoms being paid quicker? Do you just want to entertain yourself? Is this a cruel joke?” His face was contorted with anger and burning red. No part of him could hold back now. Even if he really wanted to- he’s far too comfortable with anger and he Just Didn’t Care To TRY Anymore.
The robot he’s approaching seemed to have half a mind to placate him and half a mind to egg him on further.
“You really should look at your notebook first, I think—”
“No, go ahead! Be angry. We can work with that.”
It’s like they knew what he Might do. It’s like they wanted it.
It riled Abel up more that neither was addressing his questions. They’re too busy with addressing the way he’s approaching. The way his right fist clenched like it’s begging to make contact with something. His rings dug into his palm and he knew it’s very likely he’s going to split a knuckle if he kept going but he didn’t Quite care now.
“What IS this? Do you think you’ll just Easily get away with it? Show yourself. Don’t hide behind some robot!” He hadn’t attacked yet but it’s clear enough it would happen soon. “How well does your plan go if someone damages your robot? Will you face us Then?”
“Just try it—see what happens.”
“You’re the only one who’s gonna get hurt here, kid.”
But Abel wasn’t Really listening to the last part. Not fully. Not that he’d even believe it. He’d been pushed enough and getting this out felt like getting gasps of air he so desperately needed.
He lifted his foot and kicked the robot, sending it back some—but not too much.
It seemed in a moment things changed. He wound back his right fist to punch, the momentum being so dramatic his necklace easily flew back with his shoulder, putting it in the way of Neko-Neko’s descending claw. Abel realized too late what’s coming for him. He couldn’t react until the sharp blades were already in his shoulder, slicing through and easily severing the chain in their way.
It killed the fight in him easily enough. He’d never gotten hurt like this. Not because of his anger, anyway. The punch never made contact, Abel instead having to pull back the punch, which was excruciating with the tear in his shoulder. He grit his teeth to keep quiet—and it worked until he spotted the cross on the floor. The cross was so important to him he threw caution to the wind and let out a desperate cry. He didn’t care if Neko-Neko planned to attack again to kill him. He could die here as long as he had it. He threw himself towards where it fell and held it tight. Like the next safest place to keep it was embedded deep in his palm. He looked up at the robot, pain ebbing up enough to blur his vision. The fear pulled his anger back up a bit but for once he stayed still. Just knelt there with his right fist clenched tightly around the cross. He’s slow to move to cradle the injury and he’s becoming delirious with the pain and fear and anger he no longer could express. For once he’s frozen. Flight and Fight seemed like they weren’t choices anymore.
“Maybe you should pray we don’t kill you now, huh?”
But it’s lost on him really. He just slumped there and waited for whatever his fate might be. It didn’t matter anymore if he’s dying here anyway—did it?
