XXXV - The Wheel Of Fortune 5

In one last, lightning-fast motion, I raised my hand, and my index finger tore, extending like a bullet from a gun. Before the Rail Tracer could even react, it struck him right in the eye causing my index to be left stuck in his left eye socket and rendering him blind.

The Rail Tracer's grip tightened around my throat, his knuckles turning white with the sheer force of his stranglehold. "You just don't want to die, do you?" he screamed, his voice laced with pain and fury.

My vision began to tunnel, the edges of my sight darkening as the life was choked from me. My struggles grew weaker, my body betraying me as the Rail Tracer's monstrous strength overpowered me and he finally killed me. Or did he?

Well, to be precise, he killed my clone - a fact that had me giggling to myself. This was the second time I had "died" at the hands of a Contract holder, which just went to show that these contract holders were capable people. But the truth was, I was simply smarter and more devious than they were. My arsenal of tricks was limitless, and I took no small amount of delight in watching them dance to my tune.

The Rail Tracer may have thought he'd bested me, but I knew better. I was always one step ahead, always anticipating their next move. These brutes who relied on their raw strength and blunt-force tactics were no match for my cunning and guile. I was the puppetmaster, and they were my unwitting marionettes.

The Rail Tracer let out a booming laugh, triumph etched across his face. He had done it – he had finally bested that slippery serpent, eye patch man. Or so he thought.

But just as the laughter was passing his lips, the lifeless clone suddenly opened its mouth in a horrifying display. A cloud of black smoke erupted forth, churning like some demon escaping its mortal vessel after being exorcised.

The Rail Tracer's eyes went wide, his laughter cutting off as he was enveloped in the disorienting black fog. For five seconds, he was blinded.

And then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the smoke vanished, the circus also vanished and we were back in the fifth wagon. A slow clapping echoed through the wagon, drawing his gaze to a lone figure seated on a train car – I, a twisted smile playing on my lips.

"Grandiose performance, Rail Tracer," I purred, my voice dripping with condescension. "You have proved that you are the greatest puppet of all in my show."

The Rail Tracer's eyes narrowed, his fury simmering just beneath the surface. But as he glanced down at his left hand, a horrified realization dawned on him. In the chaos of the smoke which was a bait, I had struck – my katana sword, stained with the killer's own blood, lay beside me.

The Rail Tracer's gaze snapped back to me, his expression a mixture of rage and dawning horror. That damned trickster had outmaneuvered him once again, and this time, the price had been his own limb.

The Rail Tracer's then said. "Who the hell are you?"

My lips curled into a malevolent smile that reached from ear to ear, and when I spoke, my voice seemed to take on a dark, otherworldly quality – as if I were possessed by the most sinister and deceitful of entities, but no I was not possessed, I was just finally being myself.

"I am The Deceiver," I purred. "The father of lies, the adversary, the murderer. I am the serpent of old, the ruler of this world. I am Diablo. And I am the man who will change this world."

The Rail Tracer's jaw tightened, his grip ready to hit home, but I raised a hand, forestalling any further violence.

"Before we indulge in our last brawl, I have an offer for you," I continued, his voice honey-smooth. "Would you like to join The Church of Truth and become one of the children of insight?"

The Rail Tracer's then replied. "What the hell are you talking about?"

My grin widened. "Your way of killing, it's too careless and primal. You'll eventually make mistakes, get caught, and end up sitting on an electric chair, my friend. But if you join me, I will choose your victims. You can indulge in what you love most – killing, while being my button man. No man will be able to persecute you because you will be a child of insight."

This was no ordinary offer, no simple bargain. I was proposing a Faustian pact, a chance to unleash his darkest impulses under the guise of a higher purpose. A deal that any killer would take, doing whatever you please without falling into the dire consequences, paraphrased as The Heaven Of Killers.

And for a fleeting moment, perhaps the rail tracer felt the temptation tugging at the edges of his consciousness. To have his bloodlust sanctioned, to be given free rein to indulge his most savage instincts – it was a seductive proposition.

But then, the Rail Tracer's expression hardened, and he shook his head. "I already made a pact with the devil, he gave me this power, the one I call "The Massacre Express", so I believe that I will not be able to make another pact with another devil, unless you, Diablo, defeat me, Joachim Kosminski, The descendant of Jack The Ripper on a fair hand on hand combat, no tricks allowed,"

My eyes narrowed, a flash of excitement crossed my features. I then unleashed a hysterical laugh and said "So be it. The epic hand-on-hand battle between The Son of The Devil and The Descendant Of Jack The Ripper shall begin."

I jumped from the train seat, landing gracefully on my feet. With a fluid motion, I shed my shirt and shoes, then smoothly slid my katana back into its scabbard. Facing Joachim Kosminski aka The Rail Tracer, I settled into a southpaw boxing stance, ready to humble him as I advanced on him confidently...