It was a shock to the system, going from the lush jungle of some nameless world where the howls that filled the night air were that of predators, twenty times the size of modern man, just to find oneself kerplunked right back from where she started.
Fiona Hart’s ghostly blue hands gripped the bars before her. She knew the cell… she knew the ghostly walls. Most of all she was familiar with the eternal rumble of the train tracks, that shook the entirety of the ghost train from powerful engine to caboose, as charged over endless terrain.
Fiona had found the visit to that primordial jungle invigorating. The truth was, she was not meant to be there. She was, in fact, knocked from her quest—teleported there by an ancient Curse of the Witch Queen. An immortal queen that ruled over the ancient world of Mya—the Cursed World.
Fiona had plunged deep into Mya’s Spirit World. Finally, she had found the source of the Witch Queen’s power—stabbed like pikes into the very oceans of the haunted realm, she made her attempts to destroy the Curses. Curses that counterbalanced themselves against all the other curses levied against the hated Queen. Each curse existing only to destroy the Witch Queen, each curse being held at bay by the next—all in a frozen paradox, in an infinite struggle to be the curse that achieves its end.
Fiona had become a threat to that end—the curse could not allow itself to be destroyed! The demonic form had hurled her from the cursed world, Mya—skipping over her native Earth, and throwing her into the jungles of the world that come right after Earth.
According to the Muses, this was a world were God still dwelt. Where the creator of all things—was yet playing with his dinosaurs.
It was just a matter of time until her small group came upon the creator. Once they had—there was no discussion. No meeting of minds, nor even any means of conversation. Just a sudden sweeping wave of ‘being knocked back to where they began.’
Fiona could only guess what this meant for her companions. But for her—it landed her back in her ‘fathers’ cell.
A cell which only ever successfully held her, when she had allowed it.
The problem, when the Creator had found her—she was in flight from a rather ferocious raptor. One that had been hunting her for days, such things were smarter than she would guess. This one, was particularly diligent, as it had toyed with her from the start.
The creature had been swept up in her wake. Inadvertently sent from the yet to be named primordial world, all the way to Earth.
Smart or no, the raptor was out of its element and clearly confused.
The screeching dinosaur was trapped– thrashing and pounding against the train walls. A truly strange environment for such a beast.
Suddenly the beast stopped, collected itself. The recognition shown in its eyes as it found her behind the metal bars.
The only thing that was protecting Fiona—was her cell.
It charged swiftly, ferociously—directly at her. The bars bent back, a testament to its strength.
Fiona was thrown back simply by the force of the attack. The door held. The creature was unable to advance. At least with its first charge. The second charge, Fiona was sure, would be a completely different story.
The cell could not hold her, it never could. Currently, it was the only thing protecting her from that salivating maw–
The dinosaur’s second charge brought the cell door down, completely ripped from its hinges. It recklessly fell forward with the cell door.
Fiona planted a foot on its dazed head, then a second on its back before she threw herself over its scaly form. She landed with a roll– did not bother to look back as the sound of it scurrying to its feet was enough for her to choose flight over fight… dropped her shoulder and forced the door to slide open, she practically fell from the train car! Only her firm grip saved her from the edge, her feet dangled a bit closer to the tracks then ever before. She hauled herself up, found new purchase, and just kept climbing up.
Fiona climbed onto the roof as the dinosaur blasted through the door behind her. There was only a moment for her to pause—to remove sound from the equation as the fierce raptor stopped to search for its prey.
The rickety train rocked oddly, jostling her enough that she grunted as she took a knee.
That was all the raptor needed, its head spun to her direction—and its body leaped swiftly thereafter.
Fiona scrambled back and regained her feet… They both charged against the wind. Fiona climbed agilely over the train, leapt to the next car. The raptor, however, was having a hard time with its footing; its clawed toes raked and ripped into the ghost train. It slowly pushed itself forward as Fiona reached the front of the car…
Fiona dropped back down from the roof to the next car, and again forced her way through the door… startled minions stationed within that train car leapt to action. Commanding her to hold, others just completely shocked that she was there—or maybe just out of her cell.
She did not bother to respond verbally; she threw punches and kicks to clear the way. Almost faultered at the sheer numbers of vile spirits that moved against, but as soon as the living, breathing raptor made its way into the car— Her father’s minions fell back into disarray!
The raptor would surely be distracted, at least long enough for her to find a way to free herself from the train… from behind the veil even.
As soon as she made it to the next car however, she came face to face with the Conductor, her long lost ‘father.’
More creator than father really, she was his greatest experiment. Fiona was an amalgam of spirits, some good some bad, wrapped and bound until all the different deeds, each of the sprits was born from, melded into one form—her form, her life.
Fiona was what the Conductor liked to call an ‘artificial soul.’ A being that could walk among the living breathing beings of the living world. One that could be his agent among those he wished to take advantage of. An act she would never agree to. And an act he would forever find a way to bend her to.
The scroll was there in the Conductor’s hand… the vile spirit’s maw twisted in a triumphant smile.
“Finally! Finally, you have returned to my clutches,” with this declaration he raised the scroll in his hands and explained, “Finally I shall bind you to my will– once and for all!”
“With that?” Fiona asked simply, interest peeked, though her real interest was clearly more on what may come tearing through the door behind her. “Some sort of magic scroll?” she pressed.
“Not any magic scroll,” the Conductor preened, “The Ancient Arcanu…”
Fiona had interrupted his introduction when she deftly snatched it from his hands.
The conductor winced at the sudden reversal of fortune.
Truth was Fiona had figured out a long time ago that the vile spirit was all talk—he had no real strength, not when compared to Fiona.
“You can’t really expect that to work on me?” the Conductor began, unconvincingly.
“Why the hell would I need to use it on you?” She asked just before plowing her fist into his pale skull-like head. The frail form of the Conductor crumpled to the ground—Fiona would have been surprised that the spirit did not dissipate, then and there, to retreat to safety… That is, if the Raptor had not finally prowled into the train car behind her.
Magic scrolls were totally something she had had to deal with as an agent of the Witch Queen. Fiona knew what this scroll was, even if it was foreign to those she had used on Mya.
The truth was, the reason this raptor hounded her so diligently, was because Fiona had tried, unsuccessfully, to tame it… She did this, largely, because it was pink.
Fiona really, really liked pink—she was going to try again.
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