wip [(work)(behemothTrain)]

edit 1

"It's not something you can shrug off — the murder of so many people. And you came out without a single scratch." The man spoke with an electric hiss. A copper mask on his face, showing nothing at all except for a warped reflection of Miguel's stony countenance.

"They were asking for it." Miguel spat. "I've had enough of their sniveling faces. Ones that thought I was shit and nothing but a big boy without a spine."

"Still, you killed at least twenty men. Some with plenty of fighting experience." The man's posture was perfect and his suit, tailored to the ideal fit and bearing the sigil of Berloum. "Those families want to be compensated for their loss."

"It's like them to only want to be paid." Miguel laughed sourly.

"Oh, some don't want money. Some families want your head on their dinner platter." The man's voice finally let out some emotion. He sounded amused. "Of course, if they demanded it, they could obtain your organs and sell them. All legally."

"Fuck!" Miguel spat. His voice began to rise, ending in a spit flying shout, the man's mask splayed with saliva. "What are you doing? Why are you here? If you want to then take me in! WHAT IS YOUR POINT?"

"I am here to offer immunity from everything they can threaten you with."

"What?"

"That's right. I assume you know of the Train?" The man paused and waited for a question. Not expecting one, he carried on. "Candidate selections are happening, and the Lord of Berloum is currently lacking in acceptable candidates."

"And that has to do with me because?" Miguel clenched his fists tightly.

"What do you think candidates do? They kill. And you showed adeptness in that field. I mean, you seem to show no remorse, and I doubt you even know the first man you killed that night." The man seemed to smile from behind the mask. "Becoming a candidate will offer immunity from vengeful families. Of course, you are be going to train a bit before the Lord sends you to the Train."

"And what if I say no? What if I go on the run?" Miguel asked.

"We hunt you down. And I do believe, even if you have killed twenty men in a single fight, you're no match for an Imperial Enforcer of the Lord." The man sounded smug.

"There's no option for me is there?"

"There is. You're going to either go on the run of your own will or come to the Train. On your own. There's no force here." The man had a smirk on his face right now.

"And I can't postpone my decision?"

"Afraid its a right here, right now deal."

"Then, I think I'll go ahead and meet the Lord about becoming a candidate." Miguel sighed and looked overhead at the stars in the night.

"Then, please follow me to the coach outside. Oh, by the way, you're a behemoth, alright, taking out those guys without any experience. After a few months, you'll roam the lands without fear." the man smiled. "The Behemoth of Berloum."

"I like that. The Behemoth of Berloum." Miguel smiled. "Candidates get those codenames, right? I think I'll be known as that. The Behemoth."

"Very fitting."