I had 45 seconds of freedom.
Ms Freaky was talking to what I can only describe as the receptionist, showing her two little notebooks, getting them stamped, and peeling back the bandage on her wrist to show the woman what was underneath.
I probably should have bolted then, but by the time I’d convinced myself that jumping [...]

So I have a crazy hot stalker-girl.  It’s not as cool as it sounds.
Oh, and I’m supposed to call her ‘Oracle’.  And apparently we’re on a freight train, which would explain the sliding wall/door thing, but not the freaky decor.  It did make me less panic-y when the room jerked and chugged into movement knowing [...]

The wall…moved.
The Wall.  Freakin’. Moved.
It just…slid open.  I guess that’s why there are no doors here.  Or, doors in the traditional sense, at least; who needs them when the bloody walls open and close?
I couldn’t see for sure what was on the other side; too little light and too much steam, and, well, I was [...]

I’m sitting in…some sort of waiting room.  I have no idea where it is.  Or how I got here.
I think it’s a waiting room, anyway.  There are a lot of chairs, and artwork made from…I don’t know, I think it’s trash…hanging on the walls.  There are bits and scraps of magazines laying around on some [...]

Picture a fancy restaurant–candle-light, hoverng waiters, crisp white linen, muted conversation, gourmet food.  The whole deal.
Now change that picture a bit– smoking candles, mismatched dishes, junk yard furniture, scraps of dirty rags.  Rotting food.  Fine dining with bums.
This was Train 705.
I was shown to the Fat Man’s table;  I can only assume he’s some bigwig [...]

It took some digging to find Train 705.  It’s Decommissioned.  In a Junk Yard.  Guarded by two goons posing as homeless guys and their dog.
Access cost me a new jacket, an ass kicking, and I’m pretty sure a sprained elbow.
I think the jacket is for the dog.
But I’m in.
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