XXXIII - The Wheel Of Fortune 3

Suddenly, just like that, the lights started flickering and buzzing, plunging the car into darkness. I could feel the tension thicken, sweat beading on my brow as I braced myself for whatever was coming.

When the lights finally steadied, I couldn't believe my eyes. The other passengers, they were all sprawled out in their seats, stone-cold dead, their necks twisted like weak pigeons. All except for Yves, sitting there looking like he'd seen a ghost.

And then, in the doorway, a figure emerged - the train conductor, his sunglasses glinting in the dim light. A twisted smile spread across his face as he took in the carnage, like a cat that had just snatched up the canary.

I held my ground, waiting for the right moment. The conductor slowly approached Yves, his gaze fixed like a predator stalking his prey. "Eye patch man," he drawled, a sly grin spreading across his face. "We meet again."

Yves's brow furrowed in confusion. "Eye patch man? What are you talking about?" Yves then let out a chuckle. "Oh, I understand now. Nice move, Diablo."

The conductor cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "What are you blabbering about? Never mind. I've met three contract holders in the other wagons - the friends that were yours. They were easy to prey on. I hope you've got something special in you, because you're obviously their leader."

Yves's eyes went wide with realization. "I am not the person you think I am, but please, be my guest, unleash your wrath on me."

The conductor shrugged. "No matter, the end result will be the same to all that enters the domain of The Rail Tracer."

The conductor, this so-called "Rail Tracer," continued to close in on Yves, "Time to join your friends, eye patch man," he sneered, his hand slowly reaching out towards Yves's throat.

But Yves, unfazed, simply sat there, meeting the conductor's gaze with a calm, almost amused expression. The two locked eyes, an unspoken tension crackling in the air between them.

Then, in a blur of motion, the conductor lashed out, his fist hurtling towards Yves's throat in a lightning-fast jab, intent on leaving him breathless and incapacitated.

Only, the blow never landed.

In the blink of an eye, a massive, gargoyle materialized from thin air, intercepting the conductor's attack with a thunderous punch of its own. The impact was bone-shattering, the sound of the collision echoing through the car like thunder.

The Rail Tracer let out a strangled gasp, his eyes going wide with shock and pain as the force of the blow struck his throat. He reeled back, clutching at his neck.

Yves never even left his seat, his lips curled in a confident, almost mocking smile. "Nice try, conductor," he drawled, "but you're dealing with the Gargoyle of Notre Dame now."

I watched the scene unfold from my perch on the ceiling, as I predicted, checkmate Rail Tracer. My gambit had paid off, and now I can go on par with The Rail Tracer and not lose. You see, the moment I saw the train conductor before entering the train, I knew he was a killer. After all a killer recognizes another killer. That is why I thought of a plan the moment I settled in my seat in the fifth wagon. 

The Rail Tracer, his face twisted in fury, lashed out with a sudden kick, aiming straight for Yves's midsection. But that Gargoyle figure wasn't about to let that fly. In a blur of motion, it intercepted the blow and counter-attacked.

The Rail Tracer let out a howl of pain as the Gargoyle's fist connected with his gut, the force of the blow sending him hurtling backwards. He crashed into the other seats, crumpling into a heap, his sunglasses askew.

Yves never so much as flinched, that calm smile still plastered across his face. He knew his defenses were impenetrable and I counted on that, to see if he was lying about his abilities or not.

And that's when I knew the jig was up. This Rail Tracer killer, he'd finally figured it out - I'd been playing with him the whole damn time. This wasn't me, it was a camouflage, a misdirection to damage him and make him easy prey for me, plain and simple.

The Rail Tracer's eyes went wide with realization, a mix of fury and dawning comprehension washing over his features. Without another word, he scrambled to his feet and jumped from the nearest window, taking a flying leap out into his space loop scenery.

Yves looked over towards where I was hiding and pointed his finger, saying, "Well played, Diablo, you truly are The Deceiver. But I warn you, never use me again in your schemes without permission."

Impressive, he somehow knew I was hiding here. I dropped my camouflage and jumped down from the ceiling, landing on the ground.

"Sorry, Yves," I said. "It had to be done. I never fight a battle I can't win 100%. With the rail tracer's physique, raw strength, and killer instincts, I had to weaken him first so it would be an easy victory."

I left to the fifth wagon, waiting for The Rail Tracer to come. You might ask, why do I think he would come? Well, because The Rail Tracer is a prideful son of a bitch. He wants revenge because I outsmarted him, outwitted him. He'll ignore Yves because Yves' abilities confuse him - he can't get a handle on them. No, he'll focus on me, the only one he understands and loathes.

Sure, he knows I'm capable of creating illusions and camouflage, but that don't matter. I'm going to win this. My plan is perfect. This is my odyssey, and I wouldn't let filth, a serial killer of all people ruin my plans. He may have the physique, the raw immense strength, the killer instincts, but I got something he ain't got - cunning. And when it comes down to it, I am as smart and as devious as the devil himself.

I settled into my seat, waiting for my dancing partner. I know he's coming. I can practically smell his bloodlust a mile away.

I'm calm; I know the secret. I know what's coming and I know no one can stop me, including myself...