Chapter Two: Show No Mercy

Dawns early light rose on the Island of Sodor. It was the start of a beautiful day. Birds sang their cheerful little songs, the bluebells were opening their glorious petals as the sun crept over the mountains and the animals on Farmer McColl's farm stirred to life as the rooster bellowed it's wonderful harmony. And along a lonely stretch of track on the mainline between Crosby and Knapford, men and women from the Sodor police force had the grim task of collecting evidence and removing the slaughtered remains of three poor railway men. Detectives took detailed photographs of the scene of mass violence, took samples of possible evidence and interviewed the witnesses at the scene. BoCo hadn't moved an inch since his driver made the gruesome discovery. He hardly spoke too. His trademark smile had vanished from his face. BoCo was in a semi catatonic state, unresponsive to police questioning and his driver's calls. David the driver told the detectives everything, sparing no gruesome detail. He told the Gods honest truth. David's recall of the event was so fantastic and horrific that it made one senior detective lose his lunch! The medical examiners had finally collected the remains of the victims and were about to transport them to the morgue when a hysterical man pushed through the crowd and onto the track. It was Jonathon, Carlin's father. "Where's my son?" he yelled. A detective came up to him.

"Sir, you have to step back. This is a crime scene." He coolly told Jonathon.

"Crime scene?" Jonathon yelled. "I was told that something happened to my son. Where is he?" he demanded.

"Sir, just remain calm." The detective said calmly. "Now, what's your son's name?"

"Carlin." Jonathon answered. "His name is Carlin. He just started working on the railway a few months ago. Is he ok? Is my son ok?" he looked pleadingly to the detective. The detective gave him a solemn look. "I'm sorry, sir. There's no easy to say this." he sighed deeply. It was then that Jonathon saw two men carrying a black body bag away.

"Oh sweet Lord." Jonathon cried. "Is that what-?" he started to break down. The detective broke the horrific news to the distraught father. Jonathon burst into tears, clutching his head and wailing uncontrollably. There was nothing the detective could do. "What will his mother say?" Jonathan sobbed. At that moment, David the driver wandered up to the grief stricken father. "Mr. Teutul." He said calmly.

"I'm very sorry for your loss. I think you should have this." He took out Carlin's pocket watch and handed it over to Jonathon. He said nothing else. "Thank you." said Jonathon. David acknowledged him with a small nod and walked away. It would be hours before the line was reopened again, the detectives and medical examiners didn't want to leave any stone unturned. In the meantime; all rail services, including freight and passenger, were halted until further notice. BoCo's passengers had to take alternate bus services to Knapford station. Bertie didn't mind the extra loads of passengers, but when the reason for this came clear to him, he just didn't put his heart into it as he normally did.

News soon spread of the terrible crimes that happened on that dreadful night. The otherwise bright and cheerful atmosphere was shattered by the dark nature of it all. None of the engines smiled, not even those that had a tendency to smile at every turn. None of them could understand the nature of the murders, why they were so violent and to the motive of the killings. They also wondered about poor Molly. Why did she disappear and who know would have taken her? This wasn't something the local street gangs would have done. Grand theft engine was below them as far as criminal activity was concerned and if they did steal poor Molly, where would they hide her? It's not like they had access to any powerful lifting equipment or engine sheds. Still, the police followed this lead as a possibility. In their numerous interviews with the different street gang factions, none of them took responsibility for the killings, especially when they were shown photographs of the horrific scene. One member of the infamous Bloods "British chapter" gang even threw up at the sight, which guaranteed his innocence right there. The public were both shocked and outraged that such an incident took place on their generally peaceful little Island. Sure, there was petty crime and usual rash of gang activity, but this was cold-blooded murder. Murder was a rare occurrence on the Island, in fact, the last reported incidence of murder and terrible death was during the time of Bloody Mary. The Island was always known as a haven for holiday makers because of its low crime rate and friendly atmosphere. But to have something like this horrendous happen on the Island would most certainly tarnish Sodor's image as a safe and warm place to visit and stay. Such a thing would be devastating to the tourist sector of the Island of Sodor and possibly ruin any chance of regaining their child friendly atmosphere.

At Knapford station, Gordon, Edward, Emily and Duck and were in a heated discussion about the horrific news. It seemed rather morbid that they would converse about such a thing but this incident involved one of their own. Molly had disappeared without a trace and they wanted to know why. "This was probably the bloody street gangs doing." Edward chuffed. "Those fucking kids have been giving this Island a black eye for years. I believe they are the ones that took the lives of those dear men and our dear Molly away from us. It's sickening." He grunted in anger. The passengers on the platform tried to take no notice.

"That's just preposterous." Gordon huffed in disagreement. "All those bloody gangs have been responsible for over the years is graffiti tagging and petty crimes."

"You're wrong, Gordon." Edward protested. "Because those gangs have been engaging in ever increasing violent tussles with each other in recent times. Isn't it possible that they are the ones responsible for murdering those poor souls and kidnapped Molly?" he asked the big blue LNER Class A3. The passengers on the platform were listening with great discomfort.

"Kidnapped is such a harsh word." Gordon snorted. "They're incapable of stealing anything bigger than perhaps a widescreen television or a… a… a breadbox, for that matter. Vicious and organized as they may be, where would they get the means to stash Molly without being detected by anyone? It's highly unlikely would even attempt such a daring feat without our yellow friend screaming for help. No gag is big enough to silence an engine. And if they did "kidnap" dear sweet Molly, they would never resort to something like murder and dismemberment to get what they want. It's beneath them even as a gang."

"Perhaps she was kidnapped as part of an extortion or ransom demand." Emily thought out loud. The engines wondered if that was possible.

"Unlikely." Said Edward. "If she was kidnapped for an extortion or ransom plot, wouldn't the Fat Controller have received a ransom letter or phone call from the kidnappers? So far, that angle has been proven false."

"I think Edward could be on the money with this one." Duck agreed. "It's highly improbable that any street gang would steal an engine for a ransom demand. Most of these gangs have an average gang member age of 17, a lot of them having no experience on the mechanics of steam engines whatsoever. But then again, they could have stolen Molly for a simple joyride around the Island without, uh, "dumping" her somewhere. People are capable of doing the strangest things." There was some agreement here.

"Maybe so but it's like I said before." Gordon spoke up. "The only things those street gangs are capable of are graffiti tagging and stealing. Do you know what those bastards actually spray painted on me once? They spray painted the phrases "I eat cock" and "Me hung fo' Chinese pussy" all over my boiler." The other engines tittered and snickered at the thought. Gordon's face went as red as the pits of hell.

"It wasn't at all funny from my point of view." He thundered. "I spent two days having my lovely blue paint hydro-blasted off before being repainted again to my original glory. It was hell having to go through all that." The other engines still snickered.

"If only someone took a photograph." chortled Duck.

"Oh, ha ha, very funny. Laugh it up, chaps." Gordon growled sarcastically. "But shall we get back to matter at hand, the disappearance of dear Molly?"

"You're right, old chap." Edward sniffed and cleared his throat. "Ok, so most of you agree that the street gangs probably weren't responsible for all this, right?"

"Right." The others responded.

"And there has been no proof that this is perhaps some elaborate plot to extort money from the Fat Controller, right?" Edward continued.

"Right." The others responded in harmony.

"But if the gangs weren't involved." Edward continued. "Then who would be responsible for such heinous crimes?" The other engines thought very hard until…

"It's Matthias." A voice was heard. The other engines were startled when they saw Henry approach the station with his passenger service.

"What was that, sweetie?" Emily wondered.

"I said that it's Matthias. I know it is." Henry elaborated. Henry the green Black Five had been haunted by ghostly visions and nightly visitations from Matthias, an engine that he had the misfortune of calling his friend many years ago. Henry had trouble sleeping at night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the visage of his former friend tormenting him, enticing him to embrace his dark side. Everywhere Henry looked, he kept seeing engines that resembled him or, indeed, saw the deceased engine in just about anything. Matthias had always believed that Henry was like him in every way, they were shunned by their peers because of crippling boiler problems. They also had devastating accidents that saw them both rebuilt with all niggling problems eliminated. Only when Henry was rebuilt after his accident with the Flying Kipper, the engines accepted Henry as being stronger. Matthias was still shunned by all for his bitter and hate-filled persona. When Henry finally turned away from him, Matthias turned psychotic and ended up murdering an innocent engine before expiring himself. The engines at Knapford were surprised at Henry's deduction. Duck, on the other hand, quivered at the mere utterance of Matthias's name. He was still very much shaken up by his brutal attack from the demon engine. Gordon thought the idea of Matthias kidnapping Molly and murdering three innocent men was as equally preposterous as the street gang lead. "Surely you jest." Gordon huffed.

"Surely I'm not." Henry retorted.

"But that's not possible, Henry." Said Emily. "His spirit was exorcised from this realm long ago. Even as we speak, his soul is probably burning in hell."

"Serves that sick bastard right." Duck agreed. "He almost killed me."

"Quite right." Gordon concurred. "That demon engine is dead and buried. Besides, there is no proof that it is even his doing." Henry snorted discontentedly.

"But I'm telling you, it is!" He chuffed angrily. "I keep seeing him in my dreams and in my waking life. He speaks to me about a cleansing of everything impure on this Island and a master plan to go through with it. I know Matthias did this. He's that diabolical and demented."

"Even if that is true." Emily scoffed. "What is his motive for murder and kidnapping?"

"It's simple – revenge." Henry explained. Everyone turned white.

"Re… revenge?" Duck stuttered.

"That's right." Henry elaborated. "In my dreams, Matthias has vowed vengeance on everyone on this Island. The engines, the passengers, the drivers. Even Sir Topham Hatt is on his hit list. He wants to take his revenge on all of us."

"But why?" Edward thought.

"Matthias believes it's our fault for turning away from him." Henry continued. "He thinks that it's our rejection and indifference towards him that effectively turned him against us. All he wanted was to be respected, but we just turned the other cheek.

"Don't tell me you actually feel sympathy for that nut-bar." Emily snorted.

"I'm not saying that." Replied Henry. "All I'm saying is that I understand his anguish and his want to be accepted. Because I went through the same thing he went through."

"Yes, but I always told you that you're nothing like Matthias, honey." Said Emily. "You're better than him and you weren't a monster like him."

"Indeed, but it wasn't our fault that Matthias became a pariah." Gordon huffed pompously. "It was his reckless nature and rebelliousness that caused us to reject him. If anything else, this all falls squarely on him."

"That's right." Edward concurred. "Matthias may have been a hard worker, but he was also rude, disobedient and cold to everyone. He brought this on himself."

"Not to mention violent." Duck added. "And anyway, how do we even know that he is even capable of murder or, indeed, kidnap?"

"Any man or engine that fueled by desire is capable of anything." Henry chuffed. "And you know what else? I know he was responsible for the attack on Diesel 10 as well." The other engines recoiled in astonishment. They remembered that bizarre incident rather well. It happened almost a month ago.

One particularly cold night, Diesel 10 was returning to his shed after a productive day of loading scrap into trucks. According to his account in the accident report, Diesel 10 was casually rumbling down the mainline when he was overcome with a strange black fog that effectively blotted out everything. Diesel 10 was running blind with no forward or peripheral vision. Thinking that they had become lost, Diesel 10's driver apparently stopped for a moment and ventured into the strange fog to check his bearings. As Diesel 10 sat alone in the sinister fog, he noticed a strange red light up ahead. Believing it was perhaps his driver, he called out into the black mist, hoping that he had found his bearings. But there was no reply. What Diesel 10 experienced that night was like something out of the pages of Stephen King. Diesel 10 told that a mysterious black engine thundered out of the black miasma, looking like something that crawled out of the depths of hells. Before he knew it, Diesel 10 was slammed off the tracks with such force that he was almost knocked out cold. After that, things got "a little fuzzy", as Diesel 10 put it. All he could remember was that the mysterious engine gave a cold smirk as he slipped in and out of consciousness, though he recalled the engine saying something to the extent of, "I said to you once that I could take you down with a single strike. Huh, guess I don't know my own strength." And then, Diesel 10 blacked out. When he came to, his driver had discovered that Diesel 10 had been horribly mutilated. His wheels and bogies were ripped from his body. Parts of his metal skin were torn off like paper. But the most frightening thing of all, according to Diesel 10, was his trademark roof-mounted grabber, a.k.a. Pinchy, was missing. Bizarrely enough, Diesel 10's driver reported nothing out of the ordinary as he wandered through the sinister black fog. He reported no strange engine sounds, no bizarre sights or anything as such. Except for when the fog started to mysteriously disperse, revealing the horrible aftermath of Diesel 10's attack.

By morning, rescue crews had arrived to clear away the damaged engine. Diesel 10 was visibly shaken and catatonic from the traumatic experience. Rocky was brought in helped to life the stricken engine onto the flatbed. As he was doing so, Diesel 10 shattered his silence saying only one thing. "He took my Pinchy!" Back at Knapford, the engines came back to reality. They almost started to believe Henry's notion that his former friend had returned from the grave to reek vengeance on everyone. "It could have been anyone that could have done that." Gordon puffed.

"You don't believe that was the work of Matthias?" Henry posed the question.

"Not for a second." Gordon sniffed. "It's just not possible."

"Why is not possible?" Henry groaned.

"Because the very idea of an engine cannibalizing another for parts goes beyond being just anything rational or justified. That's just… evil." Gordon steamed.

"Exactly!" Henry thundered. "Matthias is evil. He is evil enough to terrorize or kidnap or even murder. He's done this before with poor Helvetia and he'll do it again."

"And who's to say that Diesel 10 wasn't evil?" Emily snorted angrily.

"Emily is quite right." Gordon agreed whole heartedly. "Diesel 10 is perhaps the most hated engine on the whole Island. Even if he tried to remedy his bad deeds, it still doesn't absolve him of his cruel and hellish deeds. Diesel 10's was probably retribution from some local vigilantes; paying him for wanted to murder us all."

"Not to mention that he's one can short of a six pack." Edward added.

"Maybe so, but not even Diesel 10 deserved such a horrendous attack and mechanical castration." Henry protested.

"Why would he even harm Diesel 10 and steal his grabber claw?" Gordon raised the question. Henry struggled for an answer.

"That I cannot answer." Henry sighed.

"Maybe Matthias did us all a favour by taking out that piece of shit. Good riddance to bad diesels." Duck muttered.

"I don't know about that, it certainly gave Thomas and Lady some solace." Henry said softly. "But what I do know is that poor Molly is out there somewhere, scared and possibly hurt. We should all pray that she's alright and that the police will find her."

"What if they don't?" Gordon posed a difficult question.

"They will find her." Henry reassured the others. "They have to." Everyone fell silent as they thought of Molly. She had only been with the North Western Railway for a few years, starting out as a freight exclusive engine. But Molly soon rose through the ranks of the Sodor family before she finally took her first passenger service just over a year ago. Everybody loved her. Percy had always looked up to Molly as his big sister. Duck would often help Molly whenever she ran into trouble, thus leading speculations that he was secretly in love with her. Emily had great respect for Molly, even after she teased her for pulling "empties." Despite that respect, there had been rumours that Emily was almost jealous of Molly. Emily would always deny such rumours but the others knew that something was stirring in her systems. Edward had always acted as Molly's older brother and, as Thomas often put it, spiritual advisor. The engines sat in silence reflecting on their missing friend, until they were brought back to reality by the station loudspeakers. "Your attention please." A booming voice rang out from the speakers. It was Sir Topham Hatt.

"Having just received work from the Police Commissioner, the track between Crosby and Knapford has been reopened." Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

"The mainline is clear again." The Fat Controller continued. "The investigators from Scotland Yard have finally completed their intensive job of collecting evidence and, uh, removing the deceased from the scene. I urge you as citizens of Sodor to never forget those poor souls that lost their lives so tragically during the night. Remember them as your own and keep them in your hearts and minds. That is all." He finished. All the passengers soon scrambled to their respective trains, hurrying to grab their seats. One by one, the engines trundled out of Knapford station with heavy hearts and heavy minds. As much as they tried to concentrate on their duties, they could shake off dear sweet Molly from their minds. They were all concerned for her safety and wanted her back so badly. But they knew that they couldn't do anything about it. It would be up to the police and detectives to find their yellow friend and find whoever was responsible. The engines were counting on them.