Torment

Liar

The ill-minded man placed two plates of food in front of Curtis and me before he sat down opposite us with his steak. "We don't have time for true natural selection. We would all be hideously overcrowded and starved waiting for that." Wilford explained through his mouthfuls of steak and mushrooms. The look of him made me feel sick to the bottom of my stomach. "The next best solution is to have individual units kill off other individual units. From time to time we've had to stir the pot, so to speak. The Revolt of the Seven, the McGregor Riots, the Great Curtis Revolution. A blockbuster production with a devilishly unpredictable plot. Who could've predicted your counterattack with the torch in the Yekaterina tunnel? Pure genius." Wilford said stuffing his face. Curtis's face was cold, the thought of Wilford actually controlling everything, all of our plans and outcomes had fuelled his rage. I could tell he was moments from snapping. I felt ill, everything Wilford was saying began to make sense. What a sick sick man. "That wasn't what Gilliam and I had in our plan." Wilford suddenly said. "What?" Curtis and I practically said in sync, confused at the use of our dead friends' name. "Oh, don't tell me the two of you didn't know, Gilliam and I, our plan."

"Gilliam?" Curtis questioned. "Gilliam. The front and the tail are supposed to work together. He was more than a partner, really. He was my friend." Wilford spoke sadly. "Bullshit. I don't believe you." I deadpanned. I refused to believe it; I could tell Curtis felt the same. "Our original agreement was for the insurgency to end at the Yekaterina tunnel. And all the survivors would go back to the tail section to enjoy much more space." Wilford explained as he cut another piece of his steak. "You're a fucking liar. Gilliam would never do that." Curtis continued; anger evident in his tone. Wilford shrugged. "It all worked out in the end. Your counterattack actually made the insurgency 10 times more exciting. Unfortunately, the front suffered more losses than anticipated and Gilliam had to pay the price." Wilford explained holding his fingers in a gun shape and miming Gilliam's death. "No" I breathed. This couldn't be right, this couldn't all be for nothing, for a population decrease.

"Ironic, isn't it? How people dramatically cross that thin barrier between life and death. Now there's just one last thing for us to do. Tally up the numbers." Wilford finished leaning next to him and touch a W symbol on the wall. It spun around revealing a phone, he picked it up and called the retrieving end. "Hold on. Is it still the same number?" Wilford asked the yellow lady. "Yes, it still stands at 74%." She replied almost robotically. "Okay carry on, but wha—wait. Spare 18 to celebrate our 18th year." I looked at Wilford with wide eyes, who were they sparing? But before I could question him, the man held out the phone towards a Curtis and me, all that came from it's speaker were screams and gunshots. This son of a bitch, a single tear slid down my cheek as I thought of all my fellow tail section passengers being slaughtered. "Your people." Wilford sneered. That was enough for Curtis he stood slamming his fist on the table. As a result, the yellow lady shot her pistol. It missed Curtis and ricocheted around the room. "Goddammit Claude, mind the engine!" Wilford screamed, standing to his feet. Well, at least I now knew her name. "She's getting sensitive recently," Wilford explained to us. I held my head in my hands as Curtis panted with rage beside me, Claude told him to sit once more. "Just relax," Wilford said putting the phone back. "Calm down." He continued. "Boy, now I can see what Gilliam meant. He told me you were brilliant and clever, but always so tense." Wilford jeered at Curtis.

Curtis still hadn't sat down yet, but I was now looking at Wilford once more. "When's the last time you got laid, hmm?" Wilford asked causing me to stare. The man looked between Curtis and me, rubbing his hands together. "Like Gilliam said, holding a woman is much better with two arms." Wilford finished imitating sex. "I bet Hazels grateful you failed all those years ago, enjoyed it didn't you." Wilford sneered. That was it, it was my time to make a fuss now. I stood quickly knocking my chair over. "You son of a bitch." I seethed. Before any more could be said Curtis collapsed to his chair beside me. He was panting heavily. I slowly sat next to him once more, taking his hand, Wilford had destroyed the strongest person I knew. "I'll miss Gilliam. I'll miss out late-night phone chats. He could go on for hours. All with only one arm. What's with that face? What's the matter?" Wilford asked after taking a seat once more. "The two of you look like crazy people. As if there aren't enough crazies on this train. I believe it is easier for someone to survive on this train if they have some level of insanity. I mean as Gilliam well understood, we need to maintain a proper balance of anxiety and fear, chaos and horror to keep life going." Wilford continued, rubbing down some bolts around the engine and walking back towards us, pushing in the shelves that held his cooking station. "And if we don't have that we need to invent it. In that sense, the Great Curtis Revolution you invented was truly a masterpiece." Curtis still hadn't said a word since our realisation of Gilliam's betrayal. I was emotionless, I couldn't believe that everything we'd been through in the last few days was as a result of Wilford's manipulation. "Come with me, Curtis. You too Hazel. There's something I want to show you. You deserve it." Wilford said as he placed a hand on Curtis's shoulder. "Come on." Wilford egged, looking back to us as he walked towards the engine. Curtis and I stood slowly and followed Wilford closer to the engine. The engine began making more noise than previously. "She's waking up now," Wilford said, referring to the engine as if it were alive. The inventor guided Curtis first, putting a hand behind his back and pushing him gently up the stairs towards the engine. Surrounding the platform Curtis was now standing on was a constant rotating cylinder. It was actually quite therapeutic, with low white light enhancing the mechanics.

Wilford looked to me and nodded, wordlessly asking me to follow Curtis. I too walked up the stairs and stood in silence behind him, Wilford behind me. "Cosy, yes? Peaceful. You two are now in her heart. I have devoted my entire life to this. The eternal engine. It is eternity itself." I couldn't believe I was saying it, but this one time I agreed with Wilford, this exact position was beautiful, silence all expect the peaceful hum of the train, the circular motions of the train's parts almost hypnotising. "Have you two ever been alone on this train? When was the last time you were truly alone? You can't remember, can you? So please do take your time." Wilford finished from behind us, before he gently tiptoed away, leaving Curtis and me alone with the engine. It was silent. I didn't know what to do, at first it was peaceful, but now, the solidarity just enhanced my thoughts and emotions. All I could think of was Edgar, Tanya, Andrew, Grey, all of my friends and patients that had lost their lives. I thought to Gilliam and his lies, I thought of everything we'd survived, all just for Wilford's game. Curtis was obviously in the same predicament as I was. He too remained silent. Looking forward into nothing. Until suddenly I heard his breathing become heavier. Curtis looked back to me, trying to catch his breath as he began to sob. I gave him a blank expression. I had nothing more to say, nothing I could say right now would make any of this better. Curtis fell to his knees and began to sob. He held his wounded hand onto his face as he cried. His pain caused tears to flow down my own cheeks. I didn't know what to do.