David Goathlin's Speech
The dim light of the driver's cabin flickered, casting eerie shadows on the metal walls. David Goathlin, his eyes burning with fanaticism, kept the gun trained on them. Madison, Darmian, and Rose stood frozen, their bodies tensed.
"You three think you're here to stop me?" David smirked. "You're nothing but pawns. Pieces in a much greater design."
He twirled the detonator in his fingers.
"I serve a man with a vision. Grim Reaper. You think he's just another criminal? No. He's a prophet. A man who understands that only through death can we achieve true rebirth."
His voice grew intense, almost hypnotic.
"The world is filth. Corrupt. Rotten to its core. And yet you cling to laws, to morality—things that keep you weak. Grim has seen the truth. To reshape the world, we must destroy it."
Darmian clenched his fists. "You're insane."
David chuckled. "Maybe. But tell me… if I shoot any of you right now, this train explodes. Everyone on board—gone. Will of Grim, fulfilled."
He raised the gun, aiming between them.
The Betrayal
Then—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Slow, deliberate applause echoed through the cabin.
David's smirk faltered. He turned towards the source.
The assistant driver, who had been sitting silently, was clapping.
And then—he laughed.
A cruel, cold chuckle.
Madison's breath hitched. Something was wrong.
The assistant driver reached for his gun.
Bang!
David's eyes widened.
The bullet tore through the head driver's skull. Blood splattered across the controls. The head driver slumped forward, dead.
Rose let out a sharp gasp.
Madison stumbled back.
Darmian's mind went blank.
"What the—?!" David took a step back. His face contorted in disbelief.
The assistant driver stood up.
And then, he pulled off the mask.
Alexander Bluestone.
Alex's Philosophy
David Goathlin was silent.
Stunned.
Shaken.
Even Madison, Darmian, and Rose were speechless.
Alex smiled. That same, terrifying, knowing smile.
"I let you talk," Alex said, dusting off his disguise. "Now let me return the favor."
He stepped forward, his eyes sharp. Cold.
"You think Grim is a prophet? A visionary?"
He chuckled.
"No, David. He's just a man who learned how to weaponize fools like you."
David gritted his teeth. "Shut up."
But Alex continued, his voice calm. Deadly.
"You preach about destruction. About cleansing the world through death. But tell me—what happens after?"
David hesitated.
Alex smirked. "Ah. You don't know."
His tone darkened.
"That's the difference between Grim and me. He wants to burn everything down. But I? I choose who gets to stay."
David's grip on the gun trembled.
"W-What are you—"
Bang.
A single shot.
David Goathlin collapsed. A hole between his eyes.
Dead.
The Truth Behind the Setup
The room was silent.
Alex spun his gun and holstered it.
Then he turned to his crew.
"There was no bomb," he said flatly.
They stared at him.
"What?" Rose whispered.
Alex pointed to the now-dead head driver.
"He wasn't the real driver," Alex explained. "David's friend. The real drivers were tied up."
He walked to a metal door on the side of the cabin.
With a swift motion, he kicked it open.
Inside, two terrified men sat bound and gagged.
The real train conductors.
Rose covered her mouth in shock.
Madison's knees almost gave out.
Darmian exhaled sharply.
Alex looked at them all, then smirked.
"My worst miscalculation," he said, "is your best work of play."
He turned away, stepping over David's corpse.
"Game over."