Act II: The Uninvited Guests

The train was one of moderate quality. It consisted of six cars, including the conductor's car, all fairly large, though the train paled in comparison of some Ian had seen in America. The benches all along the cars were quite comfortable, cushioned and covered with cheap, faded red leather. The cars were clean for the most part, as well, which was surprising, given Ian's impressions of mass transportation.

Most of the hunters from the Cathedral were on the train, which now amounted to about a dozen. A few had been left behind at the Cathedral to look after things, but, for the most part, the group from that catastrophe remained together. They were spread out throughout the train, but Ian himself sat with Ivan, and Vlad. Vlad was still a little groggy, it seemed, but he'd be fine. Onora was also in the same car, but she was being tended to by one of the medics. They'd get a diagnosis later on, most likely, but Ian was almost positive she was in some sort of coma.

Bradley was leaned back in his chair, sleeping rather loudly next to Ian. It was surprising to Ian that the old man could snore so loudly, but he had gotten used to it after a while. The train ride would likely last until the sun came up, so resting and talking was about all that could be done here. It was almost a good thing they decided to board so close to midnight, as there was hardly anyone else on this train.

"It's not exactly high class, but it's a good train," Ian commented, nodding his head. "I remember some trains in America smelling and sounding like pig pens, but this one is actually pretty nice."

Ian yawned and leaned back in his seat, tipping his hat forward to shade his face. He'd at least rest his eyes for a bit on the trip. There probably wouldn't be another time for sleeping later on in the day. Their destination was still quite a ways away, but that may have been a good thing. Ian wasn't exactly excited about heading back and visiting with his superiors about their failure at the Cathedral. I don't know how those fools got chosen as leaders in this organization, but it clearly wasn't a smart decision to pick them, Ian thought to himself. A group centered around hunting down creatures of the night shouldn't be run by some stuck-up office kids. It should be run by someone who knows the business of killing nightmares like all of us. Ian could think about this all day, but it was starting to give him a headache.

All he had to do was take a rest and wait for the ride to end, then they would be able to get this over with.

Back at the cathedral, only hours ago, Vlad awoke from his unconscious slumber. He was out for nearly thirty minutes before he came to himself. His eyes cracked out, blurry images of the carnage that lay around him still there... but all was still. He could hear muffled voices around him. He knew they were his friends who had survived. A deep-throaty grummble relayed just how he felt about his and everyone's condition.

"Chert vozʹmi...."

He still was leaning against the hard, damp, stone wall... his back ached horribly. As he started to get up, he wobbled. Suddenly, he felt hands upon his shoulders, supporting him - it was Ivan. Looking with his one good eye, he could see a concerned look upon his comrade's face.

"I'm fine... I'm alright, comrade. The Motherland has watched over me."

Vlad slowly touched his battered face. Over his eye and his cheek, bandages were wrapped tightly. He was no longer bleeding it seemed, as the bandages were not wet with blood. Cursing beneath his breath and leaned back over and rested his groggy head.

..............

Aboard the train, the full realization of how hard that battle tolled for the Dark Symphony came to Vlad. Only a few were left, all in terrible condition... one even in a comatose state. He looked out the window within his compartment and watched the gloomy fields and buildings flash by with the speed of the train. Ivan sat next to him, and across in the other red-leather seats sat Bradley and Ian. All looked worn down - forlorn. Obviously the deaths of so many good friends and fellow soldiers hit them just as hard.

Though Vlad had started to recover, he still felt light-headed and groggy much of the time. Pangs of sharp pain seared through his head too at intervals which prompted his to clutch at his face with one of his hands. The others caught on with each of his horrible grimaces. Laughing grimly, he looked to their worried faces.

"Ahhhh... the spoils of battle." Vlad relayed in his deep Russian accent.

But perhaps misfortune did not completely befall Vladimir. As he sat, he was able to notice something.... something that he previously did not. He could hear many things, things that a normal person - his prior self - could not hear. He wondered if it had anything to do with his blindness in one eye.

Ivan knew what they all had to do, but by no means was he looking forward to meeting with the higher ups. He never liked political types - As his old regiment back in Russia could readily attest to, if any of them were still alive and still remembered him. At least, the trains weren't too bad - He'd certainly experienced much worse in the past.

Ivan nodded to Ian's comment as he stared out the window towards the passing scenery. "Mrmm. I've certainly known worse."

Ivan did little and spoke little as the small group made their way down the tracks - The motions of the train as it moved had a transient effect, bringing Ivan back to his own inner thoughts for the most part.

After a few good minutes of silence, he turned to Ian and spoke. "So are we telling them as it was, or telling them what they want to hear? Considering our situation, it may wise to agree to a common story.."

--

OOC: Keeping this post short. Need sleep soon. And it's a transitional scene anyhow, so eh.

Ian noticed Vlad stirring, as he probably finally felt the pain of losing his eye. It wasn't a pretty wound, and Ian couldn't imagine what it'd feel like to suddenly become half-blind. He wasn't sure if he'd be able to keep shooting straight or not, but Vlad was strong. He'd be able to adjust in no time.

After a few minutes of silence, Ian listened to Ivan, as he was curious as to what they would actually tell their higher ups. Ian himself wasn't sure.

"I do wish to tell them the truth," Ian said, scratching his chin. "I am not afraid of our leaders. We will, of course, will have to leave the details out of your curse, or blessing, if you prefer, helping us win the battle, but that's just common sense on our part. We will tell them that the attack had no warning and that we overcame our enemies even though the odds were against us. It sounds better than just saying it was a massacre."

Ian sighed and looked out the window at the dark sky. The moon was bright in the sky, no clouds covering it. However, as he was looking, Ian swore he saw a blur go past it, too dark to see in the night. I certainly hope that was a bird, Ian thought to himself. Ian looked down at the shotgun next to him, propped up on the chair. It was loaded and ready if anything happened. A few minutes passed, and Ian started to calm down once more, until an unsettling scream broke the silence. It was from a woman, and it seemed to be coming from the car ahead of them.

"Check it out now," Ian growled, grabbing his shotgun and looking at the others. "I think we've been tailed."

Ian stood up and ran towards the door at the head of the car, opening it quickly and stepping across the link that connected it to the other car. He turned to see if the others were coming, and turned his attention once more to the door in front of him, opening it and stumbling through, entering a car much like their own, but with a single woman standing by herself; the one that had cried out. She had a very thin frame, sporting short, brown hair and wearing a thin jacket for the little warmth it provided.

"Please..." she said to the entering hunters, crying. "I saw something out there... It was a monster... I know I saw it..."

Silently, methodically, Ivan followed alongside Ian as the group entered the next carriage.

Ivan had felt the distinct feeling that something had been wrong for the better part of the last few minutes, but hadn't yet quite been able to establish why. "I saw something out there... It was a monster... I know I saw it..."

Hearing the woman's pleas, ofcourse, in no way helped this feeling. Ivan remained silent and still for a moment or two, an attempt to listen out to the night - But nothing could be heard aside from the repetitive movement of the train travelling down the tracks - Surprisingly, not even the boisterous sounds of the other passengers up and down the neighboring carriages, as should be expected. Ivan kept watch out the window from the corner of his peripheral vision as he spoke quietly to Ian. "Something is definitely wrong here.. I can sense that something is here, but I do not know what.."

Quickly and carefully, Ivan loaded up his rifle and held it close to his body. He continued to Ian, before cautiously approaching a little closer to the woman. "I think we should be careful how much noise we make, for now.."

Looking to the woman, he hoped to discern further clue. "Did you see it clearly? What did it look like?"

"I must be in luck, I did not lose my aiming eye." Vlad laughed bitterly.

Grabbing one of his silver Makarovs from a sheath by his waist, he held it by his lap; his thumb slowly moved the hammer back as his index lay in wait by the trigger. Vlad was determined to make it up to everyone of the Dark Symphony that he was not useless to them, even with only one eye.

As he sat in silence with Ian and Ivan, he listened very carefully. All of these new sounds flowed through his eardrums... sounds that he hadn't heard previously. That is when he started to hear quick moving from the very end of their own train-car. Someone was running toward them. He held his Makarov out toward the doors of their own compartment, ready for anything. He could see the surprised looks from his companions faces.

"Be ready, we have company."

"Right..." Ian replied to Ivan, grimacing. It was quite obvious that something was amiss, as he swore he saw something earlier as well. Something was out there stalking the train, most likely, if this was the worst case scenario. The young woman looked over at Ivan, then back to the window she was standing at. She was visibly crying due to fear.

"I don't know..." she said to him, shivering. "I only saw it for a second, but I know that it wasn't anything normal. Please... you have to believe me."

"We definitely believe you," Ian said, checking his shotgun to see that it was loaded. He turned to Vlad, who seemed to be hearing something. It made some sense, as he had just lost half his eyesight, so it was natural that his hearing would be better than theirs, at least by a little. He seemed to be fixated on the door to their own compartment.

"Check it out, Vlad," Ian said to him. "I don't want anyone getting hurt on our car."

He looked back at the woman, who hadn't moved since. He was worried about her, and felt sorry for her. She reminded him of his daughter that he left so long ago. Ian cursed and threw the thought away. Now Ian could hear some slight sounds, some coming from the top of the train cars. He looked over at the woman again.

"Miss, I'd advise you to back away and come with us," Ian said to her. "There is obviously something wrong, and we don't want you getting hurt."

"This is just so unreal..." she said, shuddering. "I can't really understand why--"

The woman was cut off as an arm punched through the window, razor sharp claws plunging into her chest and tearing through skin and bone. She couldn't even let out a scream before she was pulled out the window and thrown off the train like a rag doll. Following soon after, three creatures smashed through the windows, landing in the car, muttering intelligable words. They were winged beasts, with skin of a faded red and sharpened teeth and claws. Their eyes were yellow and they reeked of the dead.

"Demons..." Ian said, his teeth barred. They were fearsome creatures that have been appearing lately, likely summoned through some sort of ritual. All Ian knew was that they dealt no mercy, and, as such, would recieve none. They killed the innocent without remorse only to feed their bloodlust. They had killed that innocent woman in a mere second, and if they didn't stop them all, they would kill many more. It was likely that many people on the train were killed already.

"Defend as many people as you can!" Ian yelled to the others. "We've got to clean out all these cars!"

A demon snarled and charged at Ian, slashing widly a few times, narrowly missing Ian and chopping into the sides of the train. He aimed to shoot, but just as he pulled a trigger it pushed the gun out of the way and knocked him to the ground, pinning him. It put its claws on Ian's chest, but before it could shred him to pieces, he pulled his gun up just in time to blow its head off, causing the demon to deteriorate into a pool of blood due to its death. It was their own trademark way of dying, though Ian didn't understand it. He felt it had to do with the sacrificial rituals used to summon these creatures. Ian grimaced and stood back up, prepared to fight more of these unholy beings.