2. On The Rail

Date: July 12th, 1897, "The Nebraska Betrayal"
Subject: Private Jacob Peterson

Jacob never really had realized his full potential to his physical strength. So he was a bit perplexed when he was able to kick the door open with ease; it looked like a scene out of an action movie. Him and his fellow soldiers, with Christopher standing next to him, marched up the train cars, readying their guns. Finally, they got to the front-most train car: the conductor's car. He kicked down the door, and to his (and Christopher's) horror, he saw one of the mantis girls raping the conductor, while another one mounted the conductor's face. Jacob shot the one doing the main work on the conductor, pulling the bolt up and back, ejecting a round. As he put the bolt back forward, Christopher emptied 3 shotgun shells into the mantis mounting the conductor's face, doing the slam-fire technique. The conductor appeared to be knocked out cold, with his clothes torn at the crotch.
"Sweet Jesus..." Jacob blurted out in disgust. He used a spare bandage to cover up the conductor, and used his amateur sewing skills to keep it on the pants. He helped the conductor to his feet, and gave the conductor the weapon sitting next to him: a Colt Navy Revolver. He grabbed hold onto the conductor's hand, and hauled him up to his feet. The conductor realized the train had stopped, and hastily turned a wheel and slammed down a lever. The train started again, with the youngest recruits cheering at the apparent victory. Jacob and Christopher looked out at the field next to them and spotted even more monster girls charging. They were different, as was the usual. They appeared to be horses with the upper-body of an adult women beginning at the normal area of the neck on a horse. They were clad in armor (or at least, their human part was), and were armed with lances, bows, and spears.
"OPEN FIRE!" Jacob screamed, aiming and firing at a centaur monster girl. It hit them straight in the heart, which caused them to cough up a wad of blood before falling, dead. Some of his comrades climbed up on the roof of the train car, and opened fire on the centaur's. This was their last stand. If they failed, or were killed, the U.S. was vulnerable and more than likely will lose this invasion. But if they repelled the centaur charge, they had at least one more opportunity to make it the next day, closer to Washington.

Meanwhile...In A Dark Castle...

The meeting room within the castle was dark, and dank. But luckily, it had incense burning and was lit up with warm fires and lanterns. This was the meeting room of the Demon Lord herself, with her Incubus husband at her side.
"Okay...the Fourth Lamia Legion made the breakthrough at Oswald's Field, but the Fourth Mantid Ambush Division wasn't able to catch the metal beast that the peasant army rode away on." The Demon Lord explained, pointing to an area on a battle map.
"You don't understand the amount of casualties in the Fourth Lamia Legion do you?" Her Incubus husband retorted to her. He pointed at another area of a battle map, with a skull and red "X" now under his finger-tip.
"That human peasant was able to massacre HUNDREDS of Lamia warriors on his own! Even with a goddamn MUSKET BALL in his belly!" He yelled at the Demon Lord. Now, what human were they pointing at? They were pointing at Jacob. Who, if you recall correctly, was able to put lead on target and kill nearly 250 Lamia on his own with his revolver.
"Well, what do you want done with that human?" The Demon Lord asked him, putting her hand on her chin and analyzing the battle map more.
"I want him gone! I want him and his whole peasant scum army slaughtered!" He screamed at her, pounding the table that the battle map was on.
"If you wish, dearie..." The Demon Lord sighed, before summoning a certain Pharaoh clad in armor. She looked decorated, like she was a 4 star general in the human realm.
"So...General Anhara..."
"Yes, M'Lady?" The Pharaoh answered, stepping forward.
"You see that human marked on the battle map?" The Demon Lord asked her, pointing at the skull marked on the map.
"Yes, I do..." Anhara answered, placing her hand on the table.
"Re-route some of your Ninth and Tenth Hellhound Regiment's to take out this peasant." The Demon Lord ordered.
"As you wish, M'Lady." Anhara answered.

Meanwhile...In A Certain Royal Planning Room...

"How was this peasant able to massacre hundreds? How were 42 peasants able to massacre thousands of Mamono on their own?" A certain old man with a crown and a royal title asked. This man was king Castor Lescatie, who was hiding out in a small sliver left of his own territory (think of Vatican City, but around the size of modern-day Ohio). A certain Knight clad in armor objected.
"These are not peasants, Your Majesty, these are professional soldiers." The Knight corrected to Castor. The King looked at the Knight, able to peer into the Knight's soul through their thick and protective helmet.
"What title's might these 'soldiers' have?" The sickly old King asked the Knight.
"Your Majesty...we shouldn't ask how they were able to kill many Mamono on their own." The Knight interjected, raising a finger. Castor looked back down at the map and papers, analyzing information.
"Well, Sir Karaculai, what do you think we should do with these peasants?" The King asked the Knight. The Knight thought for a bit, looking outside at the sun shining down in it's afternoon glow. The Knight knew the rest of the Mamono were coming to invade and corrupt what remained of Lescatie. So, he said the only thoughtful response he thought of.
"Well...maybe we could get them on our side?" The Knight suggested, shrugging. The King considered his options carefully. On one side, the many Heroes who volunteered to protect him and remains of his once glorious empire would be out of jobs. But on the other hand, their weapons of mass destruction could be able to repel the invasion and be able to turn the tides of the war.
"Well..." Castor answered, shaky. He really didn't know what to answer the Knight with.
"What would we do with the heroes?" Castor asked the Knight, turning to them.
"They could band together, of course!" The Knight answered. Castor knew Sir Karaculai was young and naive. These heroes took great pride in their work, and would have their honor shattered if they knew one peasant killed more Mamono in a day than they did in their entire career. They would also be angry and enraged, and would either attack the peasants or the remaining Lescatie nobility and royal family.
"Well, I...uhm..." The King was nervous. Really nervous. He had the Demon Lord on his doorstep, and now the potential for his Heroes that valiantly protected him to rebell?

Meanwhile...On A Certain Train...

The Centaurs were a lot more careful than the Lamias or Mantises. Hell, they even dodged a few shots from the rifles, revolvers, and shotguns Jacob and his comrades had. But bullet wins against arrow. Eventually, the rest of the Centaurs knew the chase was pointless, and retreated.
"Our pelvises are safe!" Christopher screamed, cheering. Jacob climbed on the roof of the train car, and used the binoculars he had on him when he was previously on the watchtower outpost to peer into the distance. Nobody was chasing them. Jacob sighed a huge wave of relief, before jumping down back on the train car floor and sitting down in a chair in the previous car behind the conductor car. Christopher shortly followed, sitting down next to him. Christopher placed his shotgun on the ground stock-first.
"Where are these things coming from?" Christopher asked him, placing his hand on Jacob's shoulder. Jacob gulped and placed his Carcano Rifle on his lap.
"Your answer is as good as mine, Chris." Jacob answered, looking down at the ground.
"Well...we know this train leads on to Maryland...maybe Washington is safe?" Christopher suggested, releasing his hand from Jacob's shoulder.
"We got guns, but...we gotta stock up eventually. It's not a one-day shot to Washington." Jacob explained to Christopher.
"Where should we stop, then? They keep sending hordes of women wanting to rape us like it's going out of style." Christopher rebutteled, shrugging.
"Next station up in Saint-Neumann, shouldn't be too far, only a good 4 hours from now." Jacob answered, pointing to the general direction of the station.
"Sounds like a plan!" Christopher declared, standing up.
"So...about that grub I promised ya' earlier." Christopher continued, still walking.
"The kitchen car isn't too far from this one, we should be able to get some food." Christopher explained, opening the train car door.
"Finally...I've been starvin' for hours!" Jacob declared, standing up and being close behind Christopher. Christopher and Jacob traveled through two more passenger cars, before entering into a kitchen car. Christopher immediately know what to do. He turned on the stove in the kitchen car, and threw some fat into the pot. He waited for it to melt somewhat, and for the temperature to rise. He put some meat broth in there, then some onions, celery, and carrot slices. Next, he added beef chunks. After around 7 minutes, Christopher added some tomato sauce. It boiled for 9 more minutes, then it was done! Let's just say, they got some well needed nutrition. And for the ordeal he went through, the conductor got a second bowl.

The rest of the 6 hours to the next stop were peaceful, yet fun. They discovered the secret bourbon and wine stash of the NCO's and CO's on the train, and took quick to drinking some, but not too much to get drunk. They had plenty of things to do, but they mostly played cards and talked about their lives back at home.
"So, Jack, where'd you come from?" Christopher asked Jacob, crossing his legs.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you...I'm from Wyoming." He answered Christopher.
"Are you sure you're not the only person living there?" Christopher asked Jacob jokingly, then chuckling. Jacob and Christopher dissed and joked with each other for shits and giggles long before they both joined the army; they were good friends, after all. Once it reached 10, Jacob and Christopher ordered the younger recruits on the train to get ready for sleep, because they were going to need it. They only had time on their hands until they reach the Saint-Neumann station. They made one last visit to the armory station just in case. Jacob spotted a beauty of a sidearm: one Borchardt C-93. He was already decked out with his reliable sawed-off 9-gauge Shotgun and revolver, so he tossed the pistol to Christopher. Christopher took the pistol with great enthusiasm, getting another holster and putting it in there. After they talked about their lives prior to the Battle for Nebraska, the conductor stopped the train. Christopher and Jacob made their way through the train cars, nervous, excited, and afraid. They both drank a good luck shot of fancy bourbon in the kitchen car. After, they finally made it up to the conductor car.
"Alright...you boys ready to go out there?" The conductor, an old yet burly old man with a valiant beard and bald head with strong features, asked them.
"Of course, sir." Both of them answered him. The conductor, being the highest ranked in the group as a Sergeant, ordered two more soldiers to go along with them. They were one Vincent Beroght and Mason Lanshire. Both of them were young, but not recruits. They both were armories like Christopher and Jacob, and were antsy to get out there and see some action. Outside, around 20 feet away, a group of Hellhounds clad in light metal armor watched the group with their burning and fiery eyes. Their gazes were filled with excitement and lust, ready to take some home for themselves. They were given a general description of Jacob, and given orders to kill him on sight. But many of them planned to simply kidnap him. As soon as they hopped onto the abandoned Saint-Neumann Station platform, they sprung into action, jumping out of the trees and sneaking in the streets.

"I swear to God I heard something..." Mason called out, looking at the trees. Jacob and Christopher looked at him, then back at the tree line.
"You all watch your asses. The last thing we need is one of us getting kidnapped." Christopher ordered, pumping his shotgun. They all made their way down the platform, and into the main station itself. They saw that it was completely abandoned, with clothes and torn fabric strung about. The group walked down the grandly decorated hallways of the station, their boots stepping across the tiled floors of the station. They soon smelled a certain musk. It was like a mix of a distilled alcohol, blackberries, and honey and mish-mashed into one smell.
"Who the hell lit incense?" Vincent asked, aiming his Winchester Repeater. Jacob and Christopher thought of their answers for a bit, but Mason beat them to the chase.
"Whatever we heard back there. Keep your aim steady." Mason warned, cocking his Colt M1895 hand-held modified machine gun. They paced through some hallways, looting small stores and vendor stands. They were all bored, nervous, and looking for action. They heard the heavy stampeding of footsteps, and all aimed their rifles at the hallway they heard it from. The group spotted another monster girl (what a surprise), a giant armored beetle with the upper body of a woman in the front. In looked like heavy cavalry from wherever it came from, and had a giant bladed pincher. Then another showed up. Then another. Finally, they had 3 monster girls to fight.
"GET DOWN!" Mason screamed, blasting the front-most soldier beetle. He penetrated the heart and upper-body of the beetle, and they died right there. The two then charged, which enticed Christopher to slam fire the one closest next to him with his shotgun. They died too, and the final one picked up Mason and attempted to tear his clothes off. With one shot to the head from Jacob, the heavy cavalry soldier beetle fell. They were safe, for now.
"What the hell are these things...?" Jacob asked, looking at the corpse of one. The group looked perplexed at these creatures, too.
"Man, I-" Vincent attempted to explain, before being cut off.
"MAN?!" A group of feminine voices screeched out. They aimed to the ceiling, and saw the origin of it.
They were all small, petite women with bat-wings for arms.
"Wait, there's a man...?" Another feminine voice called out from next to them. The source of it was a dragon-like monster girl, with scales covering their arms and legs, with large dragon-like feet and clawed hands.
"Gentlemen..." Jacob called out.
"This is our final stand..." He continued.
"RAISE HELL!" Jacob screamed out, before aiming at a random werebat.

TO BE CONTINUED

Woohoo! Second chapter is out, and sooner than I thought! Now that college isn't hogging my time as much, I can be free to write as much as I want for now! Stay tuned, as always, and leave a review when able!

- Lizdo Writing