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Chapter 65 - Demi // How many must I butcher

  9°15'38.4"N 4°05'46.5"W– Aboard Akwantufo,

  passing through Parc National de la Comoé,

  Ivory Coast

  22.05.2024- 22:45 UTC +00.00

  “Move!” Julien yelled again, snapping everyone out of their stillness. People around us rushed into the next wagon, while Drissa and I waited on its ledge.

  Julien was still on the ledge of the previous wagon, closing the door and struggling to break its handle. “Come on!” He yelled as the handle broke off and fell off to the side and off the train. I followed its fall but averted my gaze before it crashed into the river’s water below.

  “That should keep it busy,” Drissa said, “now jump!”

  Julien did not hesitate even for a moment, and with a quick lunge, he found himself next to us. As he landed, he grabbed my hand and held it tight. I saw in his eyes that he experienced the jump exactly the way I had. That made sense, it could be that Cursed people interacted differently with the old hex holding the wagons flying together.

  “Are you okay?” Drissa asked as Julien tried to stand.

  “Yes, just… dizzy.” Julien looked at me, now understanding my previous hesitation.

  The light of the wagon next to us went out, pulling the attention from all three of us. The windows on the wooden jammed doors no more revealed the inside of the wagon we had just left, instead a ciel eerie light emanated from them.

  My muscles tightened as I helped Julien stand. Drissa opened the door on the next wagon and helped us go in. A different kind of chaos was taking place in there: people from at least two wagons were now yelling at each other and someone on the far end of the carriage.

  “Let us pass through to the next one!”

  “It will come here too, we need to go further!”

  “Barricade the door!”

  The last one made sense – and as we were the last to get in, Julien and Drissa together pulled one of the old tables of the train from the floor. A cracking sound indicated that its fixings to the floor were now irreparably damaged, but damage to property was the least of our concerns. Two other young men imitated them and rushed to stack tables next to the door.

  I went ahead towards the commotion.

  “What is happening?” I asked a woman who was desperately trying to stand on her toes and look beyond the crowd.

  She turned to me, her eyes and face flustered and torn by tears.

  “Train operators barricaded the doors. We can’t move further.”

  As if on cue, an announcement echoed from the loudspeakers inside the train:

  “Ladies in gentlemen, please remain calm. We have initiated lockdown to all wagons – the threat is isolated and will be promptly dealt with. The train will make an emergency stop in Balanfodougou. Please remain calm!”

  Instead of having the desired effect, the people inside the wagon started yelling. The things that have seen and heard moments ago would fuel their nightmares if they survived for the rest of their lives – and being told to remain calm only triggered their emotions.

  “How long would it take to reach it?” The woman next to me asked, thinking already what I was thinking.

  “At least twenty minutes,” I said, but then I looked outside the window. We were now hovering at a greater speed than usual, riding the river’s breeze. “Maybe fifteen.”

  The woman teared up again. She understood as well as I did, that whatever that thing was capable of, was at least capable of massacring the whole train in a quarter of the hour.

  I immediately walked over to Drissa and Julien, who had now pulled together with more men a series of tables behind the door. The carriage was completely rummaged and seeing the runic symbols glow next to the damaged areas, I felt a tinge of sorrow. This train operated for so long, and all it took was this to start tearing it apart.

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  “What is the plan?” Drissa asked.

  “There is no moving forward, but we need to last until the next stop. We can do this, remember,” I said and pointed at the flowers.

  “Is this the Haunt you mentioned?” Julien asked coming close to me.

  “I assume. I don’t know what they can do.”

  “Well, I assume they can haunt?” Drissa answered with a hint of sarcasm. The lights above us flickered, as a force attempted to open the door. Most people turned to our side of the wagon in terror, but as Julien and Drissa headed to the door and pushed the barricade of tables, a few other men followed suit just in time. Another forceful push threatened to break the door open and the lights were killed.

  The moon initially dressed the carriage in a white bright light – it was almost a full moon, and the skies were clear. But as my eyes adapted to the darkness, a ciel color covered the shaking wagon. I turned to the ceiling: the carved symbols faintly emanated a pale color, whose arcane pulse hummed once bright and once dark.

  A third push shook the whole carriage, as tables tumbled from the makeshift barricade and the men struggled. But the door remained closed.

  I stepped further back, reaching the people who were scurrying away as further as they could, and watched the few brave men push the door.

  I wasn’t afraid yet. I just needed a good point of view.

  “Just in case,” I said to myself and reached with my hand inside my dress and grabbed my firearm. I had to be ready.

  Everyone waited in silence, as the lighting rhythmically changed from ciel, to moonlight and ciel again.

  “You think it is gone?” A boy wondered out loud.

  “Don’t stop bracing,” I yelled at the men, worried they would get complacent.

  I breathed in deep. If indeed another Haunted man or woman entered the carriage, I would only have one chance to shoot – if I missed, the lily would be wasted and the Haunted would register me as a threat.

  I counted my breathing. One, two, three, four.

  Hurried steps indicated the Haunted no longer had the patience to wait. A dark figure covered the light coming from the windows outside, as it climbed on the outside of the train and burst through the glass windows. Before the men or I could react, it landed on one of them, and passed the Haunt to them. Julien pulled Drissa to the side and stood before him next to the wall. One by one, the necks of the men were snapped as the Haunt passed from one to the other; all except for Julien and Drissa, whom it ignored.

  I did not dare shoot yet. I did not have a clean shot, and the Haunted had no pulse for my bloodsense to be of any help. I had to rely on skill only, and between the jumping and chasing of the men and the inconsistent lighting, I had little chance of success.

  Some of the people behind me started screaming at the scene in front of them:

  The first man that got haunted launched to the second, who seemingly resisted the transformation for a few good seconds, until his head violently spun at least three times. Blue and red paint sprayed from the base of this neck, instead of actual blood. Then the second man assaulted the rest who were now running towards us. Again, the searing sound of paper violently crumpling echoed inside the carriage as one of them fell victim to the passing Haunting.

  Two men managed to reach us, while Drissa and Julien stood still on the other side. The only man that now stood Haunted, turned his body towards us. His head was spun vertically and now stood upside down, as blue and red painted ran from his mouth. His eyes now looking downwards, spilled blood.

  

  A voice bellowed from the man’s insides. His body was turned towards me and looked straight at me.

  I felt a drop of sweat stream down my forehead, as I wondered whether I could survive the Haunt’s Curse if it clashed with mine. I doubted it.

  The Haunted man with the upside-down head took slow steps towards me and the crowd. Further behind it I could see Julien holding Drissa’s mouth, scared that even a whimper could be enough for the terrifying presence to perceive them past Efua’s enchantment.

  The people behind and around me started to frantically scream as the entity approached them. It flailed deceptively clumsily, now its body covered by blue and red paint that kept dripping from its mouth at the top. This was no longer this man, but a perversion that the Haunt had created.

  I pulled my weapon and aimed at it, but did not pull the trigger immediately, as whatever this man had become walked at the small region of the carriage where no moonlight hit, between the windows.

  I breathed in and out as the man took another step and emerged from the shadow. Bathed by the moonlight, and now only a few meters away, its visage was even more terrifying. There were visible scars where its cheeks used to be and the face’s shape was elongated by a state of constant silent screaming. Its eyes fluttered without stopping, to what I hoped was only an instinctive move and not any indication that the man’s consciousness was still in there, experiencing all that.

  I shot at it three times. The eyes and the mouth. Its head exploded and covered the wagon in blue and bright red, contrasting with the ciel light of the hexed carvings.

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