Chapter 71: The Hellbound Express

 

The Night Train to Moscow. First Class Sleeper. Somewhere near the Polish-Belarusian Border. 4:00 AM.

The train cut through the snowy darkness like a silver needle. Clack-clack. Clack-clack. In Cabin 4, it was warm. Too warm.

Sebastian paced the small space like a caged tiger. Three steps forward, three steps back. His shirt was unbuttoned. His skin was flushed. The serum was rewriting his biology. His metabolism was running at 300%.

"Sebastian," Harper whispered from the bunk. "Please. Sit down. You're making me dizzy."

Sebastian stopped. He looked at her. His eyes were dilated, the golden irises glowing with an unnatural intensity. "I can't," he said, his voice low and vibrating. " The energy... it's like a reactor inside me. I can hear the wheels grinding on the tracks. I can hear Braun snoring in the next cabin. I can hear your heart beating."

He moved to the bunk. He didn't limp. He moved with a terrifying grace. He placed a hand on the wall next to her head, trapping her. "It's fast," he whispered, leaning in to smell her neck. "Your heart. You're afraid."

"I'm not afraid of you," Harper lied. Her pulse jumped. This wasn't the Sebastian she knew. This was raw, primal power. The "God Protocol" had stripped away his civilized veneer.

He kissed her. Hard. Hungry. It wasn't gentle. It was possessive. His hands gripped her waist, his strength effortless but overwhelming. Harper gasped, half in pleasure, half in shock.

Suddenly, Sebastian froze. He pulled back. His head tilted to the side.

"What is it?" Harper asked breathlessly.

"Shh," Sebastian put a finger to her lips. "Footsteps." "Heavy. Rubber soles. Trying to be quiet."

"The conductor?"

"No," Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. "The conductor has a limp in his left leg. This man walks perfectly." "And he smells of... gun oil."

Sebastian stood up. He buttoned his shirt calmly. "Stay here. Lock the door."

---

[The Hunter]

Sebastian stepped into the narrow corridor. The lights flickered. The train rocked violently as it hit a curve. At the far end of the car, a figure in a conductor's uniform was checking tickets. But the uniform didn't fit. The jacket was too tight across the shoulders.

Sebastian walked toward him. He didn't hide. He didn't sneak. He walked right down the center.

The "conductor" looked up. He saw Sebastian. He didn't ask for a ticket. He reached into his jacket.

Click. Before the assassin could draw his weapon, Sebastian was there. He covered the ten meters in two seconds. A blur of motion.

He grabbed the assassin's wrist. CRUNCH. He broke it. Like a dry twig. The suppressed pistol fell to the floor.

The assassin grunted in pain and tried to headbutt Sebastian. Sebastian didn't dodge. He caught the man's forehead with his palm, absorbing the impact, and slammed him back against the window. THUD. The glass cracked but didn't shatter.

"Who sent you?" Sebastian asked. His voice was conversational. Calm. He held the assassin by the throat with one hand, lifting him off his feet.

The assassin gargled, clawing at Sebastian’s iron grip. "Syndicate... never... stops..."

"Neither do I," Sebastian said.

He looked at the window. Beyond the glass, the frozen landscape whipped by at 100 miles per hour. "You didn't buy a ticket," Sebastian smiled coldly. "Get off my train."

He threw the man. Not at the floor. Through the window. SMASH. Glass exploded outward. The freezing wind roared into the corridor. The assassin screamed as he was sucked out into the void, disappearing into the white darkness.

Sebastian stood there, looking at the broken window. The cold air hit his face. He didn't shiver. It felt... refreshing.

---

[The Monster]

"Sebastian!" Harper ran into the corridor, gun in hand. She saw the shattered window. The snow blowing in. She saw Sebastian standing amidst the glass shards. There was blood on his shirt. Not his.

"Where is he?" Harper aimed her gun down the hall.

"Gone," Sebastian turned around. He picked up a shard of glass from his sleeve and flicked it away. "He got off at the last stop."

Harper looked at the window. Then at the freezing darkness outside. "You threw him out? At this speed?"

"It was efficient," Sebastian said. "No body. No evidence."

He walked toward her. The wind blew his hair. His eyes were cold, calculating, devoid of the fear or hesitation that used to humanize him. He looked... perfect. And terrifying.

Harper lowered her gun. "You killed him without blinking," she whispered.

"He was a threat to you," Sebastian stopped in front of her. He reached out to touch her face. His hand was warm. "I eliminated the threat."

"Sebastian," Harper’s voice trembled. "What is that serum doing to you?"

"It's making me what I need to be," Sebastian looked at his hands. "My father wanted a weapon. Victoria wanted a monster." "Now they have one."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Go back to sleep, Harper. I'll watch the door."

He sat on the small folding seat in the corridor, facing the broken window. He watched the snow fly past. He didn't feel the cold. He felt only the mission. Moscow.