CW: Graphic depiction of stab wound
He follows Anita to the very front of their wagon, only to find-
Federico sitting on the floor, clutching his bandaged arm.
“Oh my god, are you alright?!”
“Yeah… Well it hurts but I’m alright”
“What happened?”
“Some guy attacked me! He had his face hidden so I don’t know who he was, but the dude was vicious!”
“Anita came and we managed to fight him off”
“I see…”
(They probably had an emergency aid kit in their camping gear)
“Can you describe the attacker?”
“Uh, around my height, maybe? Ah! It was dressed like one of the workers!”
“Might make sense too, the guys that made this whole thing have something against my dad…”
“Could you elaborate on that?”
“Ah, sorry man, I don’t know much of my dad’s business. That’s all I got”
“So you believe you’re being targeted?”
“I mean, maybe?? Dude I just got stabbed I don’t know”
“If it was an indiscriminate attack that would be dangerous… More so if it’s part of the train staff…”
Oliver ponders the clues in his mind.
“Why were you two up at 5 am?”
“I was thirsty and came to see the scenery. Ah! I also think I heard a cat?”
(Cat hint obtained?)
“You too, Anita?”
“I was sleeping and got woken up by the struggle…”
“Pretty sure I’d be a grid of meat if she hadn’t appeared…”
“And Natalia? Wasn’t she rooming with you?”
“Nati sleeps like a rock. You can have a whole party and she’d sleep with no problem”
So this is why their doors were open.
“And Seba… Well…”
“I don’t actually know where he is”
“Don’t worry, he’s okay. I saw him around an hour before this”
“Was he okay?”
“He’s been a bit weird lately, so I thought he might be sick or something so uh”
“Did he look good?”
(I’d rather not spill his dirty laundry to his friends… Surely, he has told them, right?)
“He’s fine. Or at least fine enough for a quick guitar session.”
(Wait, guitar… Ah. I forgot Owen’s guitar. Whoops. Hopefully Ángel will grab it)
“That’s good. That’s good”
“Do you mind if I take a look at your wound?”
“No, no, go ahead man, it’s free use”
He observes an interesting pattern, the deepest part seems to be near the center of the arm.
“You were attacked with a kitchen knife?”
“Wha- You can see that from the hole?”
That explains one thing.
“You’re lucky . It missed the important arteries, but your muscles will need a good rest”
“It hurt like a bitch too”
“Great job with the wrapping, by the way. I assumed it was you, Anita?”
“Ah, yes!”
He ponders the situation.
As the most responsible adult here, he reaches a decision.
“Go to your room and rest. I’ll go find someone from the staff to continue treating your wound and look into this. I’ll make sure they keep this under wraps to not cause panic.”
“Ah, wait! What if it is someone from the staff?? You’ll be snitching that I snitched!!”
“Shouldn’t everyone know?? They’re in danger!!”
“Don’t worry, go back to your rooms. I have experience in cases like this, it’s fine”
“I’ll take care of this.”
He leaves, and marches to the other end of the VIP part.
He wonders if Ángel is still there.
He doesn’t check their room. He needs to confirm something first.
Oliver Beebo is many things, but the thing he is most proud of is being a detective.
Lately, due to the paranormal incidents, he’s been doubting his detective instinct. He’s been mixing natural with supernatural, reality with fiction.
He’s been scared, doubtful, paranoid even.
Fear is born from the unknown.
But Oliver was born to find answers.
He’s been a fool, a doubtful fool. Of both his own abilities and his own potential.
Houses have not made his instincts wrong, they’ve been opened to new possibilities.
There’s still many unanswered questions plaguing him. He really wishes he could talk to everyone right now, but it’s better to let them sleep.
Because if he’s right, they’ll wake up soon.
His heart is telling him so, His mind is telling him so, his soul, his ghost-
He refuses to keep playing these games. He’s not a ghost trapped in the mansion. He’s Oliver Beebo, a full man. A scarred man, but a living man.
He reaches the end and finds the emergency break. There is no glass covering it.
He had forgotten a bit, after these domestic and overwhelming months, a little part of himself.
A part buried under new found fears, and the need of safety.
A part that he thought lost, after everything that happened.
The part that loves the thrill.
He refuses to be scared by things he knows how to defeat. He refuses to let that man plague him any longer. He refuses to be blind to the beautiful present he created.
And most importantly, just like it always has been.
He refuses to lose.
It’s 6 am.
——————————————————-
Something feels…