PAUL's POV
"Guys, this is the conductor and host our ride, Mr. Alexander White." Nico looked quite cheerful when he said that, probably because the skeleton bowed to him, and frankly, I would be extremely happy if someone did that to me too. Now if only everyone called me lord and bowed every time they saw me...
The conductor straightened until his back was completely vertical and fixed his navy blue uniform. I saw the material fall limply onto his shoulders. Either this guy is super skinny or he was exactly what he looked liked: just bones and nothing more. "Sir, if I may, I suggest we start. If it gets any brighter, she," he gestured to the train, "won't make it." His voice sounded raspy.
"Oh yeah. I forgot you're weak during the day. Sorry Alex." Nico checked at his nonexistent watch. "Does anyone know the time?"
Mr. White reached into his coat and grabbed a golden chain watch with a gloved hand. "It's a quarter to ten."
'A quarter to ten, what was that supposed to mean?' I thought.
"It means 9:45, genius." Alena rolled her eyes. Why is it that girls always do that?
I stared at her like she's a lava-barfing dinosaur coming out of a cave to eat my head. Everyone was staring at her. Alena noticed and looked a little creeped out. "What? Is it a crime to answer a question?"
I just shook my head. So far, I've seen much stranger things than that, so it didn't bother me that much, but how the heck did she know what I was thinking?
White cleared his throat assuming he had one. "Should we go now, sir?" he rasped with a little hint of anxiety. Nico gave a little nod.
"Everyone signal line into the first car, please ladies and gentlemen!"
We did what the creepy skeleton asked with Hailey in front, Alena and me in behind her, and Uncle Mark right behind me. The door hissed and opened by itself. Mr. White helped each of us in the windowless, fancy metal box on wheels disguised as a train car. The closer I came to the black smoke swirling around the train the colder I became. While stepping on one of the steps, my foot gave way and I almost smashed my head on a metal bar before Mr. White caught my arm in his tight grip.
"Careful sonny. Don't go the way I did." He tried to smile at me but unfortunately for him, it is pretty hard with out muscles. I removed his hands from my arm as quickly as I could without seeming rude. They felt bony and dug into my skin.
After I went inside I heard Mr. White stop Uncle Mark for some reason but didn't pause to find out why.
Instead of being dark and gloomy like I thought it would be, the car's interior was actually bright but as fancy as a 19th century palace. Red velvet chairs were lined up from the front to the back, and chandeliers hung in rows along the length of the car. The only time I saw anything this elegant was when I went to that boring museum and blew it up. My uncle's irritated voice from behind startled me.
"If you don't mind, Paulus, move over so other people could go past."
Not want thing to get on his bad side again I stepped backwards to the nearest row of bench seats as he harrumphed and marched on towards a seat in the back. Sighing, I plopped down, but unfortunately for me, it was unusually warm, lumpy, and could give a high-pitched scream.
"GET OFF OF ME YOU CHUM-CHUM-FATTY!"
MARK JONSTON POV
Just when I started to go up the steps, Mr. White put his bony arms in front of me, blocking my way. "I'm sorry sir, but I can't let you in with that revolver. Please hand it over."
I stared at him in shock. No one ever discovered my revolver until I had it trained towards their head or chest. I made a mental note to be on my guard around Mr. White.
"Over my dead body."
The lifeless conductor looked immensely pleased to do so until Nico spoke up.
"It's ok, Alex. Let him keep it." The skeleton grumbled a bit but removed his arm so I could enter. Unlike everyone else, White didn't help me on but hissed as I past.
'He would've been a good opponent. I could've taken him on with my many scores of training.' I thought to myself.
Inside, Paul stood in the middle of the walk way, and a man size couldn't get past.
"If you don't mind, Paulus, move over so other people could go past." He quickly moved aside in front of Alena who didn't even notice because of her intense concentration towards that thick book of hers.
As I made my way to the back seat, I heard a feminine shriek. "GET OFF OF ME YOU CHUM-CHUM-FATTY!"
I depressed the urge to smirk. The girl wouldn't make a bad daughter-in-law unlike some young ladies today. She has a mind of her own and doesn't chase boys. Good.
That got me thinking of my own wife, a charming and brilliant mortal woman with dark brown hair, warm green eyes, a smile that could warm up the Grinch. She would make us scarves in the winter, including the one I had in my trench coat which was from Father.
I fell into depression when Cilla was murdered in cold blood right before my eyes and pushed my son and his family away when they tried to help me. She had told me to keep an eye on the family, and once I have gotten past my sorrow, I did. My descendants didn't have the slightest clue who I really was, unless they laid on their deathbed with me right next to them.
Over time, I left England and followed the Jonston family to the United States of America. To avoid suspicion, I used a fake French accent I learned to do when I was in secondary school (A/N: 6th grade to 10th grade) and practiced the American accent and slang until I had perfected it. My name also changed several times throughout the years, but as the past drifted farther away, I decided it was safe to use my original surname, Jonston.
My cover was blown for the first time by Clair Jonston, Paul's mother and the first female Jonston to be born in decades. His godly father knew about me because we ran across each other a couple of times during my missions. She asked me to take care of Paul when she died and signed me as his godfather and uncle. I hired a demigod governess to teach him about the Greek world early in his life, and later, she acted as our housekeeper, his mother figure, and his protecter. I went on secret missions for my Father and stayed far away from Paul's life, afraid of being discovered, but that didn't stop me from checking in on him from time to time. Old habits die hard.
The whistle blew a shrill note, and the train lurched forward. From a previous experience with a son a Hades, I presume the train was starting to enter the shadows similar to how the children of Hades shadow travel.
I took my worn scarf that I bring everywhere and wrapped it around my neck and settled down for a nap. Alena and Paul's bickering upfront didn't help much though, but slowly, I dozed into a deep sleep. 'Yes,' I thought drowsily, ' she would make a wonderful great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great granddaughter-in-law.'
I slept the whole way to New York.
I love writing in Jonston senior's POV and I don't know why. Oh well. How would you guys like the character(s)'s killings done: heroic, cold murder, accident, etc.? If you don't choose, then I will. REVIEW AND COMMENT!
~Sepharim