“Witches!” I announced reaching for my holstered gun, only to be stopped by a small Ael girl pointing her own weapon at me. 

“I wouldn’t do that!” she shouted, her voice cracking, “make any sudden movements and I shoot!”

I slowly raised my hand, and the darker witch approached me, sliding her arm down my leg, to where my gun was kept, and unstrapping the holster. She took my pistol and drew her own gun. While pointing her firearm at me, she casted mine aside, and slowly circled me like a corpseflier ready to devour a fresh corpse.

“So traitor, how many of you are there? Gotta be more than one nun right?” The purple haired witch pulled back the hammer of her revolver, "church must have sent a whole platoon of you pickme's," she spat. 

I considered feigning ignorance, pretending that this was a normal train, but I was sure they knew otherwise, it appeared as though this was no ordinary team of bandits. I stared, defiantly, electing not to speak at all.

“Answer the question!” she demanded, pressing her gun to my head, “I aint got a whole lot of patience for you damn church types.” 

For a moment I contemplated my own death, right there on that train at the hands of these two witches. The heaviness I had been bearing almost felt lifted as I thought about the release a bullet could bring me. Rafa however, must have sensed this, and spoke on my behalf, “it is just us, there are no other nuns aboard the train.”

“Is that so? And what about Inquisitors?” she grinned.

“Five that had been with us, then an additional five were aboard the train when we arrived,” my Familiar continued to answer our interrogator.

“Shit, ten total, that’s more than we were told,” she snapped her finger, while confirming my own suspicion. They were here for the weapon, of that I had no doubt.

“Don’t worry Miss Shana, we’ll be alright,” the younger witch spoke up.

“Shut, don’t say my name like that kiddo!” she looked back at her companion, giving me the chance I needed. 

As soon as her head was turned I quickly sprang into action, moving my body behind hers and wrapping my arms under her own, locking her in my grip.

The little witch repositioned her gun at me, “Let her go!” she shouted, trying to aim for my head, but unable to get a clean shot.

“Rafa, Lightning Grasp!” I shouted and electricity sprung from my hands into the witch I held.

She cried out in pain, but did not succumb as I had expected her to. She stamped her foot down on my own, with as much force as she could probably muster. The pain caused me to loosen my grip just enough for her to wrestle out of my arms, though I was able to knock her gun out of her hand as she did. As the other witch tried to fire a shot at me, I sprung back behind a bench, narrowly avoiding the gunshot. 

“Kid save your ammo!” she shouted to her companion, “don’t worry, I got this.” I was honestly impressed with her composure after receiving such a shock. 

Huddled against the seat, I frantically searched for my gun, till I could spot it, three rows down along the floor. Without a moment’s hesitation I leapt, running for my only hope. I fell on my knees, and quickly reached for the pistol, only to hear the familiar click of a cocked revolver as a round hard gun barrel pressed against the back of my head. 

“I don’t think so,” the witch called Shana clicked her tongue at me mockingly, “sorry to say, but this is goodbye nun.”