"Eating junk food all the time, ma'am. Aren't you afraid of being obese?"

A fat man suddenly invited Bunga to talk when she was crunching bakwan on the platform waiting for the LRT train. An uncle in the range of 40 years. Looks like not yet married.

His beige T-shirt was loose because of the folds of meat that accumulate. And wet from the sweat and grease that had fallen from his sloppy eating.

He also ate junk food. 1 bakwan he devoured, then risol not forgetting the sambal-he had sambal! He should look at himself.

His presence was disturbing. He had moved to stand closer. However, Bunga was indifferent.

Suddenly, someone appeared behind them. He seemed to overshadow them with his dense shadow, even though the three of them were the same height. Bunga looked at him for a while.

"What an itchy hand, sir." He held the uncle's hand. It turned out that the man had intended to squeeze Bunga's ass. The uncle immediately stepped aside because he had been caught.

Bunga's surprised reaction did not last long. Of course he thanked the good man earlier.

Quickly spent pieces of fried food, drink, go away; there are still some fried food that can be eaten elsewhere while waiting.

She herself was not much surprised because she was sure someone would come and stop the uncle.

From the start, she had also known he would do such a lewd thing. So why the ignorance? Bunga just wanted to test her luck through such a silly gamble.

Her name is Bunga, a woman and unemployed who is always lucky. She probably wouldn't accept it if her story was written like that. However, whatever it is, Bunga doesn't care.

She was always so lucky that she didn't care about that luck anymore, even if it brought "good" things. Luck does not always bring happiness.

She guessed the readers of this crazy writer would not accept her thoughts. However, she was sure they would understand throughout the story.

For example, this morning, Bunga accidentally stepped on a mouse that had been walking around every night, making noise, and disturbing her sleep.

It's like stepping on a tomato, which has bones, and squeals loudly when stepped on.

But, of course, stepping on such a pest is very disgusting. Blood comes out of the mouth. The feces seeds come out of the butt.

Finally, the source of all the nightly disturbances was dead, but Bunga had to throw the rat carcass into the garbage can, as well as clean the floor.

More work, especially since that morning she had to get ready to shower, tidy up, and go for a job interview.

Remember, she was an unemployed woman who at the end of the month begged her mother in the village to send her some money.

The man who helped Bunga was walking together. Who knows what his intentions were.

Bunga didn't care if he was going to charge her something in return. Or do something more obscene than that.

To be sure, he was just walking beside her, not doing anything strange yet.

"Had a chance to eat fried food, ma'am."

"Bought them earlier. What's wrong?"

"Nothing ... really sorry, can I share it with you? It looks delicious, anyway. I'd like some."

Bunga didn't hesitate to share a piece of bakwan with her. Let's just say she was returning the favor.

"Here's some candy for you. It's a barter."

Bunga was surprised, but accepted the candy. It was a small mint-flavored candy. With a blue wrapper.

She put the candy in her pocket, and the man commented, " Don't you gotta eat the candy right away, ma'am."

"I'm still eating fried food, bro." Bunga was eating bakwan at the time.

The man scratched his head. He laughed. " I see."

The train that led to Bunga's destination finally arrived when she was done with her fried food. She hurriedly took a drink.

"Be careful, ma'am. Don't forget to look around," the man said on the train. He moved to another carriage. Bunga watched him disappear into the crowd.

Inside the train, Bunga realized people were also getting the same mints that the man had given her.

That fat pervert also got a mint. He sat quite far from where she sat. He himself was not mobbed.

The incident was so fleeting that not many people knew about it-it was better that way.

Back to the candy. The majority of people (again, including the fat uncle) also ate the candy. Kids, boys, girls, moms, dads, old and young.

There are also people who don't eat candy, including Bunga.

What was the meaning of this? Did the man help her because he wanted to promote his candy? That kind of thought crossed her mind.

Suddenly, Bunga felt the urge to go to the restroom. Her bladder was full.

The space in the carriage was very limited due to the fullness of people at that time. However, she was lucky enough that no one had used the women's restroom yet.

The sound of the train traveling on the tracks, which was calm, filled the ears comfortably when peeing. It was peaceful.

Until suddenly, there was the sound of successive explosions.

Explosion after explosion replaced the sound of the train, which gradually stopped.

The sound was not so echoing. It was like the sound of liquid erupting, spurting around in sync with the explosions.

Followed by panicked shouts from people. The chaotic steps of the crowd outside, and until someone fell down.

Bunga could hear the shout, "His head exploded!!!" and something actually exploded right behind the white door of the restroom.

Ah, someone must have died with his head smashed in there, and his blood flooded the floor. This series of events made it impossible for her to pee in peace.

It was really embarrassing! She couldn't be in this scene in this state.

"F*ck!" Bunga squeezed hard on her thighs with the urine that suddenly refused to come out even though she was still halfway through her journey.

So, despite being pressured by the endless waves of explosions and panicked people, Bunga forced herself to finish peeing until it was all gone, regardless of the fact that there were still a few small drops.

Although the heart was tense, the body began to weakly sway, she washed and hurriedly put back the skirt, not caring if it made her suit messy.

At least she was better prepared now, but only until then because there was no intention of going out even if the explosions and panic had already ended.

Especially, after hearing that there was a mother protecting her child, struggling to plead for her child not to be killed.

She could hear it very clearly, that the mother was then kicked against a chair post, then screamed in pain as her head was hit hard many times by something-I guessed an axe.

She could hear the sound of the hard, crunching blows, as well as how slowly the mother's head shattered.

She imagined the bones of her head shattering like a piggy bank, oozing out the watery contents of her blood and brain.

Then her son, whose voice was screeching loudly, ran away, until suddenly his voice just disappeared.

Bunga guessed that the boy had been hit from behind with an axe and it had stuck in the back of his head. She imagined the shattered back of his head, with his brain, nose, and mouth split open.

"Reza is so heartless, huh," someone said, probably his friends.

Bunga was sure there were more people out there - so much so that she wouldn't come out of the restroom.

She knew who those people were. The same people who were responsible for exploding the heads of the passengers.

The ones who sadistically killed a helpless mother and her child. And, the intentions the gang had on the headless corpses of people in the train car.

Only, there was nothing that could be done.

Bunga heard all that while biting her fingers and crying. Her body was already very weak, let along her legs, and to her surprise, she slipped and fell in the restroom. 

"YOU IDI*T, WHY DID YOU FALL!" Bunga smacked her cheeks repeatedly until they were jet blue.

"IDI*T! IDI*T! IDI*T!"

Her head was getting more intense and burning by the second. Her mind was in a catastrophic state of chaos.

Surely the noise must have lured those outside to come here. And sure enough, someone stepped here.

A pointed axe blade instantly appeared, sticking out, piercing through the partially destroyed restroom door.

Bunga was shocked beyond belief. But quickly shut her mouth tightly. Not the slightest sound! Shudder with fear.

The axe was pulled. An eyeball peeked out, searching for a figure through the crack.

Her hopes were dashed when that eye found Bunga, after which Reza tried to destroy every part of the door to get in to kill the one inside. 

Bunga frantically moved away from the door, not caring if it made things noisier. Of course, the small toilet left her nowhere to go.

"What are you doing destroying the restroom door? You have nothing to do."

Reza immediately stopped destroying the door.

"There are survivors here."

"I'll take care of it later. Help here."

"Alright."

Reza moved away from the restroom door. Bunga's fear had not subsided. She really can hardly imagine that later will be killed by the gang.

Maybe it would be like the mother earlier, smashed his head hard until it broke, and the contents would overflow everywhere.

Reza and the men were busy with their main purpose of slaughtering the passengers.

Bunga could hear their bustle clearly from here. The sound of the engine being turned on, then used to butcher the corpses.

Flesh was cut into pieces, unused, discarded. The bones were crushed, also discarded. Finally, one important organ is taken from there, and placed in a bag. The rest is left alone.

The whole process didn't take very long.

After the windows on the carriages had been smashed-whether with Reza's axe or the emergency glass breaker in place-the bags were thrown out.

Someone was in charge outside. Bunga didn't notice what happened after that.

There was silence. It was agonizing. Bunga realized, she would die after that.

Step by step, she hunted for herself in the narrow space.

And ... the noise of a helicopter suddenly broke all that tension. There were several present in this tragedy, Bunga wasn't sure how many.

The sound of a hail of bullets outside the train, signaling their purpose for arriving here, was very clear.

Everyone in the carriage immediately panicked.

Someone called out, "Look out!" and immediately there was thick purple smoke from there, extending into the toilet. Reza and his flock coughed loudly, including Bunga.

They were the so-called Sima Butcher Squad. The brave death squad that always responds to large-scale tragedies like the massacre on the LRT train today. Bunga often saw news about them on TV.

She did not expect that today she would be involved in this tragedy, as well as being part of those saved by this troop.

One after another there were those who jumped in from the top of the train through the window.

Their numbers could be counted on the fingers of one hand, but Bunga knew they would be a troublesome opponent.

Without further ado, the next hail of bullets came mercilessly.

Bunga didn't witness-or intend to-see all the ferocity from the restroom because it was happening from inside the aisle of the carriage.

There were only the screams of the crowd that colored the torrents of bullets.

Then, the counterattack! Followed by an intense melee battle. Bunga couldn't imagine it because she had never seen Sima's Butcher fight in person.

To be sure, the slaughter and counterattack did not last long. Also, the smoke problem in the small toilet.

It was just that, Bunga still didn't want to come out. She didn't know who won and who lost. She didn't want to speculate.

"How could all of them die. There were only five who were attacking."

However, it turned out that Reza's friend was still alive. 

Catastrophe.

Now, Bunga could hear him stepping here.

"Oh ma'am from earlier, huh. No wonder I didn't see you earlier," Reza's friend said when he saw the woman through the crack in the restroom door.

Bunga just stayed there staring back at him.

It was the same man who helped him from the lewd uncle, asked for bakwan, also gave candy earlier.

Bunga's brain was too dead to think anymore. There was nothing to do but wait for the man or the monster to kill him.

Waiting for the monster to finish the life of this unemployed woman who was always lucky.

They have their own names.

The name of these monsters of terrifying power was Sima.

And right now, that Sima was forcibly opening the locked train restroom door. With his physical abilities that were above ordinary humans, he managed to open it.

Bunga could fully see that person again, but this time as Sima. His face was covered in blood splatters. And the friendly impression of his smile was now very gruesome.

The blood of the humans who died in front of the restroom was pouring in. Bunga immediately stood up, preventing it from soiling her clothes.

There were two people lying in the hallway in front of the toilet.

One was a man in an office suit; a plain white shirt and black material pants. There was a ring on his little finger.

The other was a Sima Butcher soldier. Both of his hands were stumped. There was a long line of blood on the front of the body. Both of them were young, like Bunga.

They died early, and she would follow after this. She shuddered at the thought of her own death. Then, she laughed.

"What's so funny, ma'am? Here's a kerambit. Take it, please." The Sima returned with a pair of weapons.

She had picked them up from the dead Sima Butcher. Did she give them to tell Bunga to kill herself?

She accepted the weapons. Bunga was still laughing.

"Let's go out. There will be no disturbance, really. Reza's clone and the others are busy in another carriage, some way from here. Including that asshole Sima Butcher."

The Sima man's hand led Bunga to step out of the restroom. She accepted it as if she had never given it a second thought.

They arrived at the carriage. The Sima brought Bunga to the center of the carriage.

This pair of eyes was immediately forced to see the scene of hell.

Headless human corpses, scattered on the seats that lined up and on the floor densely-so densely that she would always step on them even though she tried to avoid them.

The train windows were full of splashes of crimson blood, as well as pieces of shattered brains like a scattering of birthday cakes, which made the carriage dimly lit with a predominance of red light.

Fragments of skull bones and eye organs were scattered everywhere. Blood was still flowing from the exposed necks of those whose skin had been opened.

Blood was still flowing from their exposed necks, whose neck skin was exposed like the blooming of a flower.

There were four other Sima Butcher troops in this hallway. One had his head stuck with a spear on the floor.

Another one had a spear stuck in his trunk. And two more had their heads split vertically in half.

The stench of these corpses easily pierced the nose, making Bunga vomit profusely.

Bunga fell limp from vomiting. She threw up on Sima's face.

The Sima face was full of the mixed blood of his friends, which had gotten into her mouth, including the vomit itself-making her far more disgusted than the vomit itself.

Both hands rested on Sima's chest, which was perforated exposing the bones, heart, and lungs, which had been crushed.

It was even more horrifying when Sima's pupils, which were still open, seemed to glare at Bunga.

She moved away in fear, when suddenly the man threw a spear at her. The spear missed-deliberately missed-and stuck into a human corpse.

"Don't run away, ma'am." The man took the spear back.

"Let me help you up." He extended his right hand. Bunga couldn't help but take it. He brought her to her feet. "Use the kerambit, please. After this, we'll fight." Then smiled.

Bunga used the kerambit. She had seen how Sima's Butcher wore it, but never when they fought directly. She also made her own stance.

"You survived because you didn't eat candy and decided to stay in the restroom. Did you know that candy is what made this human's head explode like confetti?" the man said. "Well... whatever it is, you're the only one alive in this middle carriage. Very lucky, huh."

Nimbly, the man pointed the tip of his spear right in front of Bunga's eyes. "You're a special person. I want to die in your hands. So, use that kerambit and fight me, please."

Bunga flinched. 

She looked at the spear with a blank stare, then moved to the kerambit in her hand. 

Afterward, the Sima got into position. Stretching first. Taking a stance, with the tip of the spear pointed forward.

Bunga gulped.

The man launched his spear forward. Bunga realized it. Somehow, she managed to dodge. He turned the spear up, then down to slash. She didn't get cut.

Without giving an opportunity, it quickly slashed sideways. She dodged while retreating, and took a deep cut on her right wrist. He twirled his spear in the air, then launched an even crazier slash.

Bunga didn't understand why, but she was able to dodge, even though she received a deeper slash. Bunga had to jump onto the lap of a corpse in a chair, dodging slashes from above.

When she wanted to return to the floor. Immediately attacked upon landing. 

The result was a cut on the left ear. Bunga screamed loudly-the first scream since the massacre.

Her both hand immediately covered the left ear that was wet with blood. She was getting overwhelmed.

"Your reflexes are better than those bast*rds, huh? Strange," said the Sima.

All these wounds left Bunga no choice but to keep retreating to the next carriage.

The man didn't slash anymore. He threw a spear.

It could be dodged again. Almost going to die like Sima's Butcher Squad.

However, Bunga suddenly stumbled. She frantically retreated backwards quickly, while the man was getting closer with a new spear emerging from the palm.

He was a predator who had already locked onto his prey. 

This pile of corpses greatly hindered Bunga from moving backwards, and before she knew it, the Sima was already in front of her, before her eyes even blinked, the spearhead was already speeding towards her head.

"M*therfuck*r!"