A burly man football charged toward the fleeing middle-aged man.

  His eyes sparkled at a wooden trench gun mere meters away, his right hand extended outward, his sausage-like fingers grasping the wet air that stained his palms. As for the burly, dark-complected man, he bent his knees before his right shoulder barreled straight to the man’s upper back.

  Sending the chubby man flying, he tumbled and rolled like how a tortilla was rolled up. Instead of the tortilla growing in size, Doug kept his body the same.

  Stopping right next to his trench gun, the top of his head was mere inches from the grip. Thrusting his right hand forward, his large fingers managed to graze the end of the wood and metal, his finger instantly reaching the trigger.

  (Miles’s thoughts) I don’t think so.

  Just as Doug pointed his trench gun at Miles, Doug’s wrist bent with his bone.

  With Miles’s leather boot lifting from the ground to perform a kickoff, it sent the ball, or rather the trench gun, to fly many meters away from them. Pulling the trigger, the blank buckshot traversed the soup air, sending the shell many meters high up.

  Holstering out his right sawed-off shotgun, he aimed the barrel right onto Doug’s face, his body towering over the pale-faced man. His finger was on the side of his sawed-off, his pose made it look like a video game character of a certain Western game.

  (Miles) You know how much shit you guys put us through?

  (Doug) Shit? Don’t tell me Fenix has been feeding you that many lies.

  (Miles) I’m not stupid.

  Letting his finger reach the trigger, he kept it there as Doug’s face continued to glow more white. Not sparking a smirk or grin seeth from his lips, Miles tilted up his face while the humidity drench him in a hot sweat.

  His white shirt wrinkled in his water, and his breathing only hardened, allowing him to tremble both of his legs. Seeing this, Doug dry chuckled while crawling an inch backward, letting the back of his head hit the metal crate.

  (Doug) We know all about you guys. Where you’re from, what you like, and what you dislike. I’m surprised a tundra boy like you is still standing in this humidity.

  (Miles) What do you mean you guys know all about us?

  (Doug) We are the Zirardges. We’re the wealthiest family in the world. We have more connections than the stars in the sky.

  Sharp bullets pierced the metal air from within the second train compartment. Ignoring the two fights dueling in there, Miles took two steps forward, having the tip of his boots touching Doug’s turquoise boots.

  Extending his left hand, Miles gripped the top of Doug’s hair, his fingers all sucking deep into his dry turquoise hair that pricked his palms. Lifting the chubby man, his feet dangled in the air, with his boots hitting against his ripped stomach and chest.

  (Miles) Money ain’t going to buy you an extra arm, is it?

  (Doug) Put me down this instant! I demand it!

  (Miles) My role model once told me to always obey my elders, but…

  Letting his arm drop, Doug slammed both of his knees onto the floor of his train, while Miles still kept his grip on his hair. Thrusting his arm back, his entire chubby body went along with it, as his burly yet slim bicep bulged and glistened.

  And like a football, he threw the chubby man right up to the edge of the train.

  (Miles) If they don’t act like one, they don’t deserve the respect of one either.

  His neck leaning on the edge between the floor and the railroad tracks, his short hair flew against the fast-moving wind, with his burly mustache prickling the inside of his nose. Both of his hands clamming down onto the floor to keep his body from falling, he lifted his head.

  But his hand cracked, as a black leather boot crunched and snapped a few bones of his.

  Pushing up his chubby face, he hissed out a long exhale of pain and stress, showcasing his white teeth to the world. His other hand slamming the floor repeatedly, the one that Miles stepped on started to sculpt a purplish color.

  (Doug) Curse you! You can’t kill me by torturing me!

  (Miles) I know you can regenerate, so plowing your head onto the tracks is a no-go.

  Still wielding his sawed-off shotgun, he trailed the double-edged barrel right onto the area of Doug’s heart.

  And in that single instant, Doug’s eyes began to swell up in tears. His entire body went numb, strong heavy pants grew more and more as Miles’s trigger began to press farther and farther.

  (Miles) So a single shot to the heart will—

  (Coach in Miles’ thoughts) Be the best man you can be.

  Miles lowered his shotgun down to his side, his palm deathly gripping the handle as creaks and cracks formed. Looking away toward the fast-moving thick bushes and mango trees that posted screenshots into his brain, he took a step back, while scrunching up his face.

  (Miles’s thoughts) Just what the hell am I doing…?

  A pair of boots and a pair of heels walked behind him.

  The pair of turquoise-colored boots being nothing more than a young man with blonde hair, he had both of his hands inside of his jacket. For the pair of black heels, a cat-human with brown hair had her hands on her hips, her eyes gazing at the chubby man.

  Standing in the back of Miles, Johnny let his eyes trail the same way as Miles, as he was unable to look at the chubby man.

  (Doug) You both have some explaining to do…

  ______________________________________________________________________________

  Inside the second train compartment.

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  Dust blustered their knees, along with their blood trailing down to their left thigh. Their mouth open, a small release of CO2 pushed out from their starched throat, their vocals grinding against the mucus layer of their esophagus.

  Their blood swelled up to their mouth, and a gust of red liquid vomited out from their body. Pinning the back of their palms onto the floor, the person looked up to their enemy.

  (Rimy) Y-Y-

  (Jack) Damn that hurt…

  Both bled.

  Rimy sprawled on the ground with her bleeding body, her right shoulder being shot again. Her face grew pale, her eyeballs rolled to the top of her eyelids, and her pupils were on the verge of being enveloped by her upper eyelid.

  All the while she looked at the blurred Jack.

  Noticing a hole shot clean through his left hand, Jack softly let the butt of his sniper drop to the ground, using his right hand to hold his wrist. Clenching both of his teeth, he took a step back.

  (Jack) That hurts … shit, shit, shit that hurts…

  Letting his back hit against the wall, he placed his left hand right onto his chest, letting the blood trail and sweep into his white shirt. Smelling the metal of his liquid, his nostrils scrunched up as the smell molested the inside of his airways.

  Buckling his knees, his shins and calves lost the ability to let him stand regularly, leading him to slowly trail the back wall with his loose jacket. Sitting himself down, he turned to look at the bleeding woman, who continued to cough out a huge summon of blood from her lungs.

  (Jack’s thoughts) Sucks that Hope’s with Luke.

  Gazing at both Sean and Benn who stayed near the vault case, his eyelids slowly descended down to blanket his eyes. His breathing slow, his heart loose, he hunched his head along with his feet spreading far apart.

  As for Benn and Sean, both had their eyes pinned on the newly sleeping Jack, their weapons pointed downward.

  (Sean) He would have shot her anywhere, but he chose the same area.

  (Benn) Jack wouldn’t kill a person unless he had to.

  (Sean) Yeah, never knew that he would be knowledgeable in human anatomy…

  A pair of heels slammed onto the ground in the back of them.

  Turning around, Benn let his eyes widen as a woman with wrinkles and blonde hair stood up from her unconscious slumber. A line of dry drool scarred her right lip, and both of her hands soon extended outward to the shark-human. In the drop of a match, Benn shut his eyes from the world, his finger that had already caressed the metalized trigger soon rained its hellish precipitation onto the woman.

  Lunging to the right, her hands continued to extend out. Since Benn had his eyes shut off, as well as the sound of his bullets vastly overpowering Betty’s footsteps, she pulled back her right hand.

  And formed it into a fist.

  (Betty) Gotcha you sharky!

  Throwing her balled knuckles into his right cheek, his right jaw cracked and spurted out an abundance of blood from his mouth. Walking backward, his firing ceased as soon as he was thrown a punch to his face. Keeping his feet steady, he stood tall while perking his ears up.

  Hearing the gunfire from the third compartment and the first compartment from outside, he dropped his heavy machine gun to the floor. While he raised both of his hands to the height of his shoulders, a batch of blood streamed off from his lip. Her stance was the same as his, she glided back her left foot, sliding off an abundance of dust from the metal floor.

  (Betty) I’m going to make sure you were never born!

  Pushing her feet off of the ground, the air that garnered on the tips of her heels only allowed her to traverse the humid air room. Throwing her right foot, Benn nudged his head to the right, letting her knuckle graze the tip of his short ear.

  Without pulling back his left hand, he plowed it straight into her stomach.

  Sending her straight into the wall of the train, her shoulder blades that were already cracked hissed off another fracture. Letting her butt slam onto the floor, her knuckles remained dormant on the floor, her eyes unable to lift themselves.

  (Benn) Stay down.

  Both of her feet and legs went numb. Her calves slowly shut down with the rhythm of her body, her eyes cast down onto the ground.

  Her arms surging, bulging, and straining; they couldn’t lift a single finger or muscle to push herself off. Breathing slowly, her heart fading, drool began to lynch off from both crevices of her lips, while her nostrils glistened under the afternoon sun from the high window.

  (Betty’s thoughts) Douglass…

  She remembered a familiar sound not long ago.

  Clashing of glass, the roars of men laughing to their heart's content; her nostrils flinched from the smell of booze that she was accustomed to. With all of this blasting in her head, her lower eyelids began to hold up whatever water she wanted to break free.

  Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning. Brushing, brushing, brushing.

  Her right hand churned to hold an imaginary piece of cloth. Her hand scrubbing the wood, she imagined that same repeating pattern over and over again. Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning…

  Cleaning.

  Brushing, brushing, brushing…

  Until a chubby man entered that bar.

  Widening her eyes, her whole body felt as if she was struck by lightning. Jumping up with both bottoms of her feet, she hunched her head forward while clenching both of her hands.

  Swaying her body back and forth, her arms and hands were motionless to her thighs, despite her body tightening up tenfold. Her breathing reached the fastest it went, her lungs began to push more and more along her creaking ribcage, causing her chest to palpitate in pain.

  But she remained standing.

  (Betty) I’m not going to sleep in a room with a sharky…

  Instead of lunging forward, she kept her footing still. Watching Benn with death-glaring eyes, her scleras turned red just looking at his face, causing her to straighten her back while clearing her throat.

  (Betty) You and you’re kind ain’t got no use at all for this world. Y'all are just an example of how shit your lives can be compared to us.

  Benn’s fingers began to stab the inside of his palms, his jaws clenched tight against one another like a springtrap. His feet putting unneeded force onto the sturdy metal floor beneath him, began to dent amongst his bulky and short body.

  Her right lip slowly pushed up to her ear, her eyes reddened with more strain, leading her to see nothing but red. At a snail’s pace, her eyes widened more and more with every word and syllable that stroked out from her delicate lips.

  (Betty) Peace? Prosperity? Do you think you’re kind could achieve that after all you’ve done to us 30 years ago? Because of a piece of shit shark-human’s crime?

  His face darkened more, with the sun’s rays unable to shine on his lowered head. A couple of his nails cracking with the excess pressure led Betty to spread both her arms out wide, her hands still balled.

  All the while Benn’s body hunched forward, his teeth biting the inside of his cheeks.

  (Betty) I’m glad that scum of a shark-human was served on a cross. A degenerate stain that is rotting in hell for what he did to my husband’s cousin.

  Benn pushed both of his feet off the ground, his bulky body unable to levitate or fly him through the humid air.

  Thrusting back his right hand, his emotionless face sparked both of Betty’s eyes to push up, as she saw blood drenching his palms from his fingernails. Her arms and hands spread out, her balled fists that pointed to his face soon…

  Opened up.

  Her palms facing Benn, his eyes were unable to blink from his victim's rage. As if God had taken his ability to see with the snap of a finger, both of his feet glided through the metal floor with his balled fist releasing from its clutches.

  As she crab-walked to the right, Benn slammed head-first into the metal wall, his nose making first contact with the door. Knocking himself on the ground, he wavered his hands like he was swimming in aerated water, water that he couldn’t float no matter how hard he tried.

  (Betty) And I’m going to make sure that you rot in hell the same way that he did.

  Raising her head, she swished and swirled the vast amount of wet and putrid-smelling saliva that ruminated her mouth. Spitting it out, the abhorrent liquid splashed onto his face, the liquid molesting both his lips and nostrils.

  Turning her head to the elf that continued to turn the combination lock, both of her feet trailed to walk forward. The adrenaline wearing off, her right leg limped from the pain of her stomach, feeling as if a hot knife cut deep into her stomach.

  (Betty) Turn around you troll.

  Reaching his back, she raised her right hand to his right shoulder, digging her fingernails deep into his collarbone. Her glare still stinking her face, and a low growl escaped from her parched throat.

  Perking his long elf ears up, the earplugs of the stethoscope that he wore came off from his ear holes. Despite this, his left cheek shivered under the cold black metal vault that held the treasure he longed for; a treasure that he longed for his friends to have.

  Being impatient, she plowed her right foot into his calf—

  Her heel went through his calf like imaginary wax.

  (Betty) You sneaky, piece of shit!

  Gawking her mouth open, the silhouette that resembled the elf soon crumbled away, dissipating into the afternoon sunlight. Twirling her head back, her eyes soon made contact with the same figure that tricked her, her left foot already lunging itself straight to his—

  (Sean) Nuh-uh.

  But as soon as the tip of her heel tried to stab itself into his abdomen, his right-hand karate chopped straight onto the top of her head. Opposite his right thumb, the bones of where his pinkie lay shook the nerves and bones of her skull down to her teeth. Then like an unplayed doll, she collapsed onto the metal floor for good, her eyes rolled into the back of her skull.

  Scratching the back of his head, the stethoscope-wearing elf furrowed his right brow.

  (Sean’s thoughts) She took Benn’s punch like a champ but crumbled from my karate chop.

  Stepping over the wrinkled blonde-haired woman, the combo lock that he originally worked on was already long finished. The metal vault displayed a green logo, the letters displayed “COMBINATION CORRECT” without the use of LED lights. Instead, it switched with a card system that determined the usage of simple bool coding without code.

  Both of his hands gripping the handle, he then pulled the vault with all of his strength.