The train slowly decelerated as it reached its destination. The old man was standing in the control room, guiding the machine with steady hands.
WHOOSH!
A large whistle erupted and a large amount of steam blew out of the train as we exited the tunnel that was built to bypass the giant walls of the city we were stopping at.
The old man calmly took his hands off the controls and took a clean white handkerchief from his trench coat and used it to wipe his hands.
Around him were countless other white kerchiefs, previously white at least. Now they have stained a dark red with the amount of blood they had wiped off.
By the corner of the small room was a bunch of dead bodies piled together. Some of them wore the uniform of train workers while some wore thick robes with multiple layers.
Powerful people, the old man had said. Tasked to protect the train from any external danger.
All were dead.
They were not killed by the old man though. He had found them already dead after taking care of everyone else on the train, their faces were a mask of horror and there were black veins all over their bodies.
The old man calmly picked up his briefcase and turned open the door leading outside. It was nearly midnight now and there were only a few attendants at the station present to welcome the late-night train.
None of them noticed as the old man quietly walked past them and into the city, ignoring the horrified screams that erupted from two of the attendants who had walked up to the eerily quiet train to find out what was wrong.
One of them uncontrollably threw up on the floor, spasming with disgust and horror while the other ran away rather haphazardly past us. I could see the blinding terror in his eyes as he went by, mumbling what seemed like a prayer before he suddenly tripped on his own two legs and fell heavily to the ground.
He didn't get back up until we left the station.
Rows of closed shops lined the road leading from the station to the residential areas far in the distance. From our location, you could see a large part of the walled city glittering with lights in random places like stars in the sky.
The buildings spread as far as I could see and the city wall on the opposite side was barely visible, with the form of an extremely large snow mountain that had a flat top towering over in the background.
It seemed like a considerable number of places were open this late at night from the lights to be seen and even around the relatively quiet area around the station, a few suspicious-looking people were still awake moving shiftily in the shadows
None of them was a problem, they couldn't see us anyway.
The old man kept walking quietly until I noticed a light coming from a building ahead, just on the boundary of what looked like a large square connected to the city proper.
It was a restaurant and quite a nice one too as I had found out when the old man entered. I was surprised he was taking his time to explore as he had seemed to have a driving purpose all this while.
When I asked though, the answer had been fairly embarrassing for me rather than for him.
"You don't think I would be hungry after all this while? I would be happy to get a full course meal and a nice warm bed right now. I am still human you know?"
He answered with a lot of humor in his voice.
I realized that after all this, I was finding it difficult to see him as just some benign old man, especially with all the feats I have seen him produce.
The image of multiple train coaches splattered with blood and innards with the floors piled up with dead bodies of different men, women, and children suddenly flashed through my mind before they were thoroughly suppressed.
The old man walked to the lone waiter who was standing behind a table and ordered a meal. Choosing to sit down near one of the tables in the middle of the restaurant, he dropped his briefcase on the floor and waited.
The restaurant really was a fine thing.
Multiple light sources were placed in strategic corners giving the building a dimly lit atmosphere. Potted flowers surrounded the area filling the building with a mild fragrance and there was also soft music playing from some location I couldn't pinpoint.
It seemed like the nascent form of electricity was already present in the world.
It wasn't long before a meal consisting of a rather thick slab of meat that was grilled to perfection, a bowl of thick white porridge that was still steaming from the pot, and a basket of small bread loaves that were a nice shade of honey brown were delivered to his table.
Accompanied by a small bottle of what I learned was essentially apple juice.
The waiter made a rather elegant introduction to all the meals but I couldn't bother to learn all the alien terms they called their food as I was mesmerized by the sight of it, reminding me once again that I was a soul.
The old man picked up his utensils and set about dissecting the grilled meat and placing pieces of it into the porridge. He then scooped it up with a rather large spoon before depositing it in his mouth with obvious relish, taking small bites from the bread often and washing it down with the drink.
I watched all of this quietly from my glass prison with a bit of resentment until my attention was drawn to the flurry of activity that suddenly erupted outside.
The bodies had been discovered.
Trying to take my mind off the gruesome scene in my head, I tried to engage the old man in light conversation.
"What are the possibilities that a soul can transcend the need of a body and exist independently?"
This question was a rather obvious attempt to understand my own situation but I asked it anyway hoping the man's love for theoretical conversation would allow him to give me an answer. It was very obvious that my presence here was due to him since he knew about Ea-
"Hmm…"
The old man hummed as he chewed slowly on his food before gently swallowing.
"Impossible"
'What?'
What did he mean by impossible? How was I here then?
"It is impossible for a soul to independently transcend the mortal limits of the body. Even with external help or power, it will quickly deteriorate before vanishing. Where it goes to is unknown, no sort of power can track its destination or affect it in any sense."
I found myself getting increasingly confused with the certainty in his voice. I was under the impression that the old man was responsible for my presence but that seemed to be false?
"Although, the body can affect the soul. In there is a loophole that men have exploited since time immemorial."
The old man continued after taking a sip from his cup.
"Although for example, the brain holds the memories of a being as far as the body is concerned, it is ultimately still a medium for the soul, nothing more and nothing less. The soul is the one that holds the records of an entire being's life."
The old man forked a piece of roasted meat and slowly chewed on it as he continued.
"This is the exact paradox of existence that bothers those who seek the truth. From the point of creation, what comes first? For an entity like a soul to be so heavily reliant on the body to interact with the material world, there should at least be some plane of existence for it should there not?"
"But no proof of such a dimension has been found through countless ages when every sentient being in the world has discovered and explored seemingly every dimension that could possibly exist, we haven't found any form of power or plane that is even remotely connected to how a soul operates. If there weren't so much concrete proof of the existence of the soul, it wouldn't be surprising to dismiss it as non-existent."
The old man ended his tirade and picked up his cup, downing the contents in one gulp. He let out a contented sigh but his eyes were staring into space with a trace of sharpness in them.
"It is almost as if some power was actively hiding the truth of the soul from even being found out."
WHIIIIII!!!
A loud siren suddenly rang out from the direction of the city center which broke off the old man's ramblings. I surely couldn't process much of what he told me as it seemed to concern some arcane knowledge of whatever type of magic they were using and dimensions of some sort.
The old man paused to listen to the sounds for a minute before staring down at the now empty plates in front of him.
"You really are going to get yourself killed."
He suddenly said.
I couldn't understand why he suddenly said that as our conversation definitely wasn't leading to that. I could have guessed that he was speaking to someone else but we were the only ones in the restaurant considering the time of the night.
Just us and the-
The image of bloodshot eyes and a hideous smile suddenly appeared in my mind and I turned to look at the waiter that had served the food.
He had been standing behind the receptionist area, professionally attending to some sort of records as far as I could tell. The dim lights of the restaurant made it particularly difficult to discern things properly.
But that couldn't hide the bloodshot eyes though. Those strained red eyes made one look like they were having the life drained out of them from suffocation. They left me feeling a deep sense of dread and I felt that what had happened on the train would happen once again.
"Do you think I wouldn't take my time to track down every single member of your order and send their souls to the afterlife?
The waiter who was previously staring fixedly at the briefcase by the old man's side reacted to that statement. His face twitched visibly before his grim face suddenly sported a huge twisted smile.
"That is impossible. Countless leaders of the tower had tried and failed, even with all their influence and power. Thousands of years later, The Order still remains.
His voice dripped with confidence and contempt.
The old man waved his hand towards the waiter and two spikes shot out of the ground and impaled the man.
"The tower leaders didn't have Foutier"
He whispered to himself and sat there quietly. I couldn't help but look at the body of the waiter that was dripping blood continuously, quickly staining the spotless restaurant floor.
It was happening again.