The train brought them steadily closer to their anticipated destination. The walls kept the noise from the moving metal away from them, keeping the wagons pleasantly quiet aside from the peaceful conversations of the passengers. Or so it should have been…

An ear-grating screech boomed from behind the train walls, startling all on board. Experienced passengers looked even more startled than those on this train for the first time. Nonetheless, an equal unsettledness spread among the passengers.

Knights, in light uniforms, patrolled through the wagons and calmed down those with questions. The train staff reassured it had only been a small disturbance in the atmosphere and gave out calming tea, free on the house.

As peace returned and passengers resumed their conversations, now with gossip about the inhuman screech added, a girl convinced the bartender to serve her a glass filled with her favorite drink.

After taking a sip of it, Fran raised the glass containing Mehila's Brandy. Through the caramel-colored alcohol, she saw the window beside the bar. The darkness behind it seemed to even dye the brandy dark. Not even the soft light of the overhead lamps reached beyond the window.

However, as Fran looked at it through the lens of her alcohol-filled glass, a flash of light appeared in the darkness. And with it followed a screech. Much Louder, much crazier, and much closer than the one earlier. And even more inhuman as it scratched at the ears of those listening.

Fran put down the glass and rubbed her ears with her glove-covered hands. She averted her gaze from the window and glanced at her fellow passengers. Some stood up and looked around half-scared half-alarmed. Others hurled themselves up and pretended to not hear anything. A few others questioned the staff with loud voices.

“Missy doesn't seem to be bothered by that mind-numbing thing?” a deep voice asked Fran. She turned and looked at the tall bartender cleaning a glass. The glasses on his nose shone for a moment as he raised the glass to inspect it with the light.

After he had put the glass down and looked at her, Fran shook her head. According to the clock's fingers above the bar, they still had quite a bit of time before they would arrive. Meaning a lot could still happen. However, she wasn't too worried about it. Though, maybe a bit cautious.

“I see….those knights seem to feel different from you, missy.” The bartender pointed at the doorway connecting and allowing way to another passenger wagon. Knights, appointed by the Guild, had a hushed conversation while blocking the door. Sweat ran down their wrinkled brows while their hands rested on the hills of their swords uneasily.

“Rookies,” Fran said in a clear and even tone. Her airy voice faded and she turned back to her brandy amidst the laughter of the bartender. The young knights dressed in simple dark blue uniform looked no older than eighteen, and while probably talented to be appointed to guard this train, they were still nothing but rookies.

“The guild must be wanting to train them. Well, it is only the beginning of the Snow Season so they should be fine,” The bartender said and continued to serve other customers hoping to calm their nerves with strong alcohol.

After she put the empty glass down on the ornate wooden bar, Fran leaned her head on her hands. With eyes half-closed and a satisfied air around her, she observed the beautiful darkness beyond the windows of the train. A streak of light passed by the window, leaving behind a white trail before another light followed, and then another, and another. Yet, as the glow of their trails faded, no screech arose.

Fran yawned, and the aura around her turned sleepy. She laid her head down on the table. True, she agreed in her mind, it was only the beginning of the Snow Season, but…this will be the worst season yet to come….

And she will make it the last…

….

“Papa, papa!” the young boy called out to his father. He turned away from the window to look at him and pouted. As often is the case, his father focused on the book in his hand and didn't notice his call.

“Brian, sweetie come here and eat something~” From the bench opposite his father, his mother called out. Her warm voice calmed down the young boy's frustration in an instant. He jumped down from the window.

However, before the young boy reached the ground, a cracking noise followed by the shattering of glass sounded throughout the small cabin.

Glass pieces, blown her way from the shattered window cut her hands, yet Mina didn't care. Her pupils widened as she gazed through the broken window. Endless darkness behind it. Her son gone...

Then, with stiff and difficult movement, she turned her head towards her husband, Sean. The handsome middle-aged man still had his scholarly air surrounding him. A pair of glasses sat neatly before his deep blue eyes. The same eyes that had captivated her years back. And now those same eyes she loved so much looked down at her so calmly, while his hands choked her neck.

Tears flowed down her cheeks on his hands as Mina reached towards her beloved husband's face. She tried to call out to him, yet no proper sound could leave her squeezed throat.

The hand fell before it reached the husband as a crack came from his twisting hands. With a thumb, the marriage ended as the body fell down the carpeted floor.

Sean straightened his white shirt and adjusted his glasses. He glanced out of the window containing the endless darkness and smiled. A refreshing smile, fitting for a scholar.

….

With a yawn, Fran stretched while the scream, this time from a human woman, faded. A look on the clock above the bar told her about half an hour had passed. A bit longer than she had expected but at least she could nap longer. She glanced at the bartender behind the bar, who shook his head in exasperation, and then at the passengers.

The previous unrest from the two screeches had never really been quelled. It had just lurked underwater, waiting for the moment to show itself.

If they had reached their destination without interference it would have been fine. Just an unusual occurrence during the mystic train ride through the portals. Yet, as the scream passed and the information of a murdered couple made its way throughout the train, the fear from the screeches caused the unrest to amplify, threatening to burst out from underneath.

The door to another wagon opened and knights rushed out towards the other end, in the direction she heard the scream come from. Fran followed the knights that ignored the panicked passengers with her grayish-pink eyes. The sparse service staff was left with the task of trying to calm down the guests further agitated by the knights' haste.

Fran took a sip of her new brandy glass and glanced out of the window. This time she didn't see another light and there should be no other. All participants should now be on board. It was only the beginning of the Snow Season, after all.

With a gulp, she drank the rest of the flavorful alcohol and put the glass down. After a nod to the bartender, Fran jumped down the barstool. Her black knee-length dress fit for winter and long blonde hair flowed in motion with her little jump.

A tranquil expression on her face, Fran turned in the opposite direction of where the knights had rushed to, the murder. Six lights. Six lights had passed by the window. The first two towards the front of the train, where the murdered couple lays. The other four, those without a screech, had flown towards the end of the train. The direction she was now going to.

Under the soft golden lamp, Fran entered the passageway leading to another wagon. While feeling the vibrations beneath her feet she opened the door and a cozy bistro came into her view. The scent of freshly made meals and the sound of forks and knives along with hushed conversation greeted her.

Fran shook her head at the attendant walking up to her and glanced around the train's restaurant. A pair of parents distracting their pair of twin girls. A group dressed in fine suits in a rather stressed conversation. A rather bulky man cleaning his full plates at an impressive speed. A young woman with white hair eating a delicious looking cake.

Her grayish pink eyes seemed to glow as Fran glanced around. The attendant gulped and pretended to not see anything as he went back to cleaning the tables. His shaky hands almost dropping things as he did so.

Fran blinked after she finished overlooking the bistro and walked towards the next wagon. While strolling, she glanced a few times at the white cake being eaten by the young woman. It looked deliciously fluffy.

As she passed her, their gazes met and she marveled a bit at the gem-like violet eyes, a sparkling divinity hidden within those pupils. After a small nod, to which she received an enchanting smile in return, Fran proceeded to walk to the next wagon.

A normal passenger carriage this time. Noisy and quiet at the same time, as passengers had hushed conversations about the murderer on board. While stepping inside, Fran let a pair of Knights pass by her. Their rushed appearance causing even more gossip to spread among those sitting here.

Not minding it, she continued to walk along while she glimpsed at the unsettled passengers. Most didn't notice her shining eyes and probing gaze.

She could see the fear of the screeches settled deep within their minds already, and the murder just furthered it, numbing their senses. A hair raising sensation in the air from the fear and something unknown. Something hidden away. Something that shouldn't be on board.

When she reached the end of the wagon, Fran hadn't found anything again. The next wagon, another of the same type, also revealed nothing but the sense of foreboding crawling over the skin. And so did the next wagon. And the next.

Fran passed through eight train wagons yet still hadn't found what she was looking for. Only a sense of bleakness, hopelessness, and fear. The closer she got towards the end, the more it seemed to seep into the walls and people, as their voices hollowed and eyes lost their shine.

Standing before the door leading to the last wagon, Fran reached into the barely visible pocket of her winter dress. Under the flickering golden light from above her, the firmness of the handle from a most dearest possession of her reassured Fran.

Underneath the constant on and off from the lights, her grayish-pink eyes glowed eerily. She took a step forward and felt the eyes on her back following her. If she were to turn back, would she see the eyes of the passengers also glow?

A step forward and she opened the door leading to the final wagon. The hairs on her neck rising. The breath of the passengers seemed to be breathing down on it. Another foot forward and she opened the door to the finale.

Dark. Outside or inside, both shrouded in darkness. Only a tiny, faint light above at the end of the carriage. Just enough so she could make the shape standing there.

A metallic stench crawled up her. Puddles of liquid made splashes as she walked with tiny steps. No looking down at what she kicked aside. Fran just pulled out her hand out of her pocket and focused. Focused on the small shadow. A tiny shadow. About a head smaller than her. Smiling at her.

“Big Sister!” It called out.

“Big Sister!” It cried.

“Big Sister!” It whispered.

“Big Sister!” “Big Sister!” “Big Sister!”
“Big Sister!” “Big Sister!” “Big Sister!”

On and on, it repeated.

Veins swelled as it kept repeating. Its eyes bulged as the cold steel was placed between them. The young voice pleaded. It begged. It threatened. Yet, it couldn't move under the greyish pink glow holding it in place.

Quiet darkness. Then, a bang.

It echoed through the dark carriage followed by the thumb of a body.

With a flicker, the light above Fran turned back on and she saw 'it' for the first time. She clenched the handle of her still smoking revolver, glowing inscriptions fading on it. Blood ran down her lips as she bit on them.

Short brown hair. A striped shirt with a tiny tie. Brown shorts and black shoes. Barely eleven or twelve years old, the young boy laid there with a hole in between his eyes. Blood puddled beneath, adding to those of other passengers laying beside the seats with twisted limbs.