Chapter 32: The Crimson Tunnel

When they reached the edge of the platform right in front of the tunnel entrance, a screeching train suddenly emerged from the darkness, slamming its brakes with a deafening, metallic roar. Clyde, Casca, and Corie, standing on the very precipice of the ledge, were forced to clap their hands over their ears.

The three watched as the heavy iron body of the train gradually slowed. But as the cars came to a complete halt, a horrific detail came into view: every single carriage was smeared in thick, crimson fluid that was unmistakably blood, with jagged scraps of torn flesh caught in the undercarriage.

Clyde, Casca, and Corie weren’t the only ones frozen by the sight. The nearby rebel soldiers stood paralyzed as well, until a few panicked officers radioed for backup, drawing a wave of armed guards to the platform.

A chaos of desperate noise echoed from within the train. Passengers could be seen frantically stampeding through the interior, piling into the front carriages from the rear. The moment the train ground to a dead stop, the rebel soldiers forced open the doors of the lead car, and the crowd burst onto the platform in a frenzy, pale, hyperventilating, and shattered by sheer terror.

The soldiers scrambled to handle the chaotic surge, tending to passengers who collapsed, vomited, or were too terrified to take a step out of the doors. Taking in the scene, Clyde glanced at Casca and Corie. It was brutally obvious that whatever happened inside the tunnel had traumatized everyone aboard before the train ever made it to the station.

"Come on, Casca... Corie. We’re going in," Clyde said simply.

"Got it, Brother," the two replied, steely and ready.

Before the three could leap down onto the tracks, a voice barked out from behind them, "Hey! Get away from the edge! It’s dangerous!"

They turned to see a young soldier, barely in his twenties and fully geared with a military rifle, standing behind them with an outstretched arm, blocking their path. Clyde stepped forward, his cold, crimson-flecked eyes locking onto the soldier without a hint of a smile. The sheer intensity of his gaze made the young man flinch.

"Get everyone off the edge of this platform and move the crowd away from the train. Now," Clyde commanded flatly.

"Huh? Who the hell do you think you are? I should be saying that to you! It’s too dangerous to stand on the edge, and we don’t even know what’s inside that tunnel that painted this damn train in blood!" the soldier shot back, pointing wildly toward the carriages.

"Hey."

Clyde leaned past the soldier’s shoulder and spotted Selma striding over, flanked by a newly conscious Mary. The moment the young soldier caught sight of Selma, his posture went rigid, and he hastily stepped aside. Selma stared at the blood-soaked rear cars, her jaw clenching tight, before turning her eyes onto Clyde, Casca, and Corie.

"What happened here? Why is the entire train covered in blood? Can somebody explain?" Selma demanded, glaring at the soldier.

"I... I don’t know, Boss! But these three were about to jump onto the tracks just now!" the soldier blurted out in his defense.

Selma turned back to Clyde, Casca, and Corie, who stood facing her while casting uneasy glances back toward the pitch-black tunnel. But before she could get another word out, Mary reached up and gently touched her shoulder. Mary stepped past her, approaching the trio.

"What’s down there, Clyde?" Mary asked softly.

"Our brother. Grant us permission to step down and bring him back," Clyde replied.

Mary searched the faces of Clyde, Casca, and Corie. They were deadly serious; it was clear they wouldn’t take no for an answer. Mary gave a single, resolute nod and smiled warmly, her eyes softening.

"Alright. Go," she said quietly.

"Hey, Mary! What are you doing?" Selma protested, grabbing Mary’s shoulder and spinning her around.

"Let them go, Selma. There’s a lot I need to fill you in on regarding these kids, but for now... please, just trust them," Mary replied calmly, placing a reassuring hand over Selma’s fingers.

Selma looked back at the trio, who were now visibly anxious, their eyes darting back toward the darkness. "Sigh." She let out a long breath, her shoulders slumping slightly.

"Fine... you can go," Selma relented.

"Understood. Thank you, Miss Selma, Miss Mary," Clyde said sharply.

Without a moment’s hesitation, the three turned back to the ledge, leaped down onto the tracks, and bolted straight into the pitch-black abyss. The second the tunnel swallowed them whole, Selma turned back to Mary.

"You’re going to explain every single detail to me. You hear me, Mary?" Selma demanded.

"Yes... I’ll tell you everything. But... trust them. They aren’t who you and I thought they were," Mary answered softly.

Selma studied her friend’s face, searching for any sign of hesitation, but Mary’s expression was composed and completely sincere. Without another word, Selma nodded. She turned to the young soldier.

"Tell everyone to fall back from the platform for now. Get those arriving passengers inside and safe. Move it!" Selma ordered.

"Yes, Boss!" the soldier barked.

He scrambled off to carry out his orders, while Selma threw an arm around Mary’s shoulders and led her back toward the station interior.

***

Meanwhile, inside the tunnel, which wasn’t entirely dark thanks to a string of dim overhead maintenance lights, the echo of three sets of swift, rhythmic footsteps bounced hollowly off the concrete walls. Clyde, Casca, and Corie moved rapidly deeper into the subterranean gloom. They weren’t in a full sprint, but their posture was tense, every muscle coiled. Corie glanced sideways at Clyde, who was pacing in the middle.

"Are you sure Brother Craig came through here?" Corie checked.

"Yeah... there’s no other way out besides this line," Clyde replied, keeping his gaze locked ahead.

"Hmm... but what caused all that blood on the train? And... why are the rails painted red too?" Casca asked, her voice dropping.

"We’ll find out soon enough," Clyde replied flatly, a subtle edge of tension in his tone.

An oppressive atmosphere settled heavily over the three. The farther they marched into the dark, the more suffocating the malice ahead became. Deep into the tunnel, the ground beneath their feet suddenly gave a violent shudder. Clyde halted instantly, throwing his arms out to brace Corie and Casca, who dropped into low combat stances. The three stared into the blackness ahead, unblinking.

"Thump... thump."

A faint, heavy thud echoed through the air, like a muffled heartbeat. Corie cast a quick glance at Clyde beside her, then shifted her position slightly; the heavy thud wasn’t coming from Clyde, nor was it coming from her own chest. She leaned forward to look at Casca on Clyde’s other side, but Casca’s face was stone-cold composure; it clearly wasn’t her heart making that thunderous noise either.

"Um... where is that pounding coming from?" Corie whispered.

"Up ahead. Get ready, Corie... Casca... he’s here," Clyde answered low.

They dropped into firm battle stances. Their sharp eyes caught two glowing crimson dots piercing the darkness, followed immediately by the harsh, scraping sound of heavy mass being dragged across steel and stone. As Clyde, Casca, and Corie braced themselves, a static-laced holographic display flickered to life directly in front of their eyes:

["Clyde... combat mode... hurry... Craig... please help Craig... I’m relying on you... hurry... transform."]

"Huh..."

The display dissolved the second Celes’s voice faded. The three stared into the gloom, their eyes widening in shock. Emerging from the shadows was a massive man whose body was clad in heavy bio-armor. Dense, reddish-white fur covered his thick forearms, legs, and neck. The two crimson dots they had spotted were a pair of glowing red eyes peering out from behind a featureless mask and a spiked helmet.

But what sent a chill down their spines were his hands, he was dragging the battered, mangled corpses of two massive giants, their bodies torn to shreds as if they had just been run down by a speeding train. Clyde, Casca, and Corie narrowed their eyes. They recognized the towering figure striding toward them, hauling the giant corpses behind him like dead weight.

"Craig," Clyde breathed out, a vortex of conflicting emotions swelling in his chest. He had finally found Craig, but his state was terrifying: he was fully transformed in combat mode, drenched in blood, hauling giant corpses, and radiating feral rage.

Suddenly, a robotic female voice resonated inside their minds:

[Subject serial number: C – 2419 – Yeti detected.]

[Analyzing subject... completed.]

[Warning.]

[Subject cannot join the framework.]

[Status: Unable to detect subject’s consciousness... not awakened.]

Hearing the mechanical voice, Clyde, Casca, and Corie stared back at the approaching figure, their expressions turning to pure bewilderment. The voice in their heads declared that Craig’s consciousness was undetected and unawakened, yet here he was, stomping relentlessly toward them.

"What the hell happened to him?" the three thought in unison, staring helplessly as Craig continued his ominous march forward.