Hangman

 Fog rolls out of the swampy wetlands of my home as the gallows come into view through the window. Swollen, rotted corpses swing behind the glass as a sigh escapes my dry lips. The train bound south clunks along the damp tracks as I sip from my weeping lowball glass. The amber liquid burns my weary soul.

 Death.

 Familiar, yet so foreign to me even in this never ending war.

 The train is silent as the battlefield in a ceasefire. A time I will never see.

 I sip from my breakfast as the train drawls to a stop at our final pickup before we embark on our last leg of the journey. My end will come in the form of a stopped train at the southernmost tip and the gun lying next to me. The train car was empty when I embarked three hours ago and has remained as such. So, when the light click of heels echoes on the platform, I tuck my body closer to the window, hoping they’ll pass on for more company. Pulling my hood down further, I pretend to sleep. Praying to gods I don't believe in to allow me solitude.

 My wish is denied as those heels pause at the open doors.

 The muffled drum of stilettos on carpet makes me want to bang my head on the window that holds chaos behind its clear glass.

 Perfume tickles my nose. Not the normal floral scent ladies tend to favor. This scent is a rich, exotic musk. The kind of scent that makes a man perk up and pay attention.

 And against my better judgement, I do.

 “We’re late, soldier.”

 The car doors glide closed as I take in the woman leaning against the booth across from mine. I scratch my day’s worth of growth and slowly appraise her. Hoping if I make her uncomfortable enough, she’ll flee.

 She’s beautiful. Lithe and elegant, with flowing black hair and eyes that match the liquid floating in my glass. Those amber eyes are almond-shaped and lined with kohl as they watch me with interest. But what catches my attention isn’t her beauty, but her clothes.

 “Never seen a woman in a suit before,” I muse, sipping my drink. “What are we late for, beautiful?”

 She smiles and I sit up straighter, clutching my glass in my scarred hands. I’ve seen many faces in my extensive career as a military general for this warmongering country. But none that have unnerved me as much as this woman’s too wide smile full of canine teeth.

 “What are you?” I whisper.

 “I have many names, but none are important today. May I sit?”

 I reluctantly nod. “What are we late for?”

 The creature smiles that bloodcurdling grin. “Your reckoning.”

 Her svelte body slips into the booth and the train lurches into motion. The bodies sway and warp as the steam-engine picks up speed. I nervously glance around for an exit, finding none. With a sigh, I accept my fate.

 “I once knew a man who had an orange cat,” she says, eyeing me closely. “The cat hissed and scratched anyone that approached. But never hurt the man, would curl up and purr in his lap. I asked the man why he allowed the cat to hurt others, why not train the animal to be accepting? Do you know what he told me?” 

 I drain my drink and shake my head.

 “He told me so long as the cat never hurt him, he didn’t care how it treated anyone else.”

 “Sounds logical to me,” I say, with dread growing in my stomach. I had felt that way once. Not with something so simple as a cat, but with my country. I had remained safe behind the lines of ignorance. Guarded in my hole of righteousness.

 “Yes, I know you felt that way once. But no longer,” she says, reading my thoughts. Her otherworldly eyes cut the gun in my booth.

 “Tell me,” she commands in her ethereal voice. “Tell me what has changed your mind.”

 Sweat beads and drips down my back as I stare into this creature’s face. The truth drenching my tongue at her command.

 “I hate flying. Out of all my training, flying is my least favorite part. We got the call to drop into enemy territory via air. I gathered my team, no questions asked, and loaded them up. My second, he’d been noticing the demands. The death. He’d brought to my attention that our unit was being used for nonmilitary exterminations. He said we needed to be alert to people seeking vengeance.”

 “His name?”

 I gulp. I haven’t said his name in months.

 “The ultimate death comes to the one whose name is lost. Say his name.”

 “Kane. His name was Kane.”

 “A fitting name for a soldier.” The creature places her folded hands on the demarcation line between us. Her slender fingers, decorated in gold rings, fold as she leans towards me. “What happened on that plane?”

 “I didn’t listen to my second. I put my loyalty into a system that gave none back. We boarded that plane and flew off into the night.” I remove my eyes from the devil before me and stare at the swaying bodies. “We’d been assigned a new pilot last minute. He was quite, withdrawn. Not uncommon amongst new soldiers. I remember he said to me after boarding, may you find peace.” I scoff. “Should’ve set off alarms, but this was just another drop on a long list of carnage. I patted his damn shoulder and took my seat in that plane.”

 I feel the rumble of the engines and smell the tar of the lane. “We were in the air about an hour before I noticed we’d turned the wrong direction. I put a gun to the new pilot’s head and told him to take us back to base. He took us down instead.”

 I see it now. His black eyes staring into mine as he nose dived us into enemy territory.

 “We hit land hard. The fire-“ The scent of charred flesh hits my nose. “I lost the entire team. Kane died on impact.”

 I can still picture Kane's face. Slack jawed and wide-eyed as I pulled him from the wreckage.

 “Where did you go after that?” She asks.

 I watch the landscape shift as we travel closer to my end. The trees becoming denser, wild. Opposite of the land to the north we want so badly.

 “I collected what supplies I could salvage, and I began walking.” I lean my head back onto the seat. “Didn’t take me long to see what has really been happening.”

 She hums, filling my glass. “Your people do have a sinister side.”

 I glare. “We’re committing mass genocide to take their farmland. That’s beyond sinister.”

 No one tried to harm me my entire journey back. I walked through towns, homes, and schools. All burnt and hallowed out. Women and children slaughtered in the streets like animals. Left to be picked apart by the birds. No honor given to the dead. No respect.

 “The acts of one king do not represent the whole populace, soldier.”

 “No,” I concede. “They do not. But I am part of those acts.”

 Once I made it back to base, I reported the incident and was sent home to await my psych evaluation. That’s when I ran. Abandoned my post and fled. Leaving my life and soul behind.

 “I refuse to continue to be a cog in this machine.” I grip the handle of the gun.

 The creature shrugs. “Then don’t. There are other ways to escape.”

 “I’ve left behind everything. I’m a deserter of the king’s army and a wanted murderer in the North. I see no other option before me.”

 “Blinded by fear,” she tsks. “Remove your fear. Think.”

 I shake my head. “It’s not that simple.”

 “You are a general in your king’s army. You have many skills, what are they?”

 “Killing.”

 “And?”

 My brows scrunch in confusion. “I have no other skills.”

 “Knowledge. You have knowledge no one else has about this kingdom and your mad king. Information that can save millions if you put it to good use.”

 I stare at her in disbelief. “The North will kill me on sight.”

 “Then make them an offer they cannot refuse.”

 I tilt my head at this odd woman. “Why help me?”

 “I’m not. I’m helping the innocents that need you.”

 I weigh her words against the burdens of my life. The train continues, and the sun rises high behind the wild trees and marshlands of my youth.

 I could do it. Put that gun in my mouth and pull the trigger.

 Or.

 I right these wrongs. Find the Northern King and plead my case. Give them to tools to end this war. I’m already a traitor, might as well earn the name.

 The devil rises, smoothing out her waist coat and checking her gold pocket watch. “This train will stop at the southern tip. If you leave, that gun will be a mercy. If you stay seated, I promise you can fix this conflict.” 

She turns her back to me, heels silent, and exits the train car as it stops at our destination. The conductor calls for disembarkment and the whistle blows.

And I don’t move as the doors slide closed once more and my journey begins a new.