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A single shot, 715 metric-tonne bullet to the head.

“… no …” She said firmly as a smile arched up on her bloody lips!

By Ross E Fortune LombardiPublished 11 months ago 13 min read


A single shot, 715 metric-tonne bullet, to the head.

“… no …” She said firmly as a smile arched up on her bloody lips!


“This thing is huge!”

That is what she said!


“It’s so long!”

That is what she said!


“We are sooo, Screwed!”

That is what she said!


“She” was…

Actually, she had no idea who she was…

Or why she was naked.


But she DID say all the above,

Which, out of the cheap arse innuendo’s context, was NOT a good thing.

Because all the above was being said about the bullet train that she was in.

Seven Hundred and fifteen tonnes, including the 16 cars, Traveling at 300 kilometres per hour, that could not be stopped.

Assuming front dimensions of 3.36 Meters X 3.5 Meters.

That was a potential kinetic impact of 16,543,494.89 Newtons.

Humans can only take 3000 newtons and a City at ground level would suffer pulverization at only 214 Newtons, (simplified)

Which did not really matter for any passengers that weighed the adult average of 62 kg, as they would all be subjected to 18,600 G when the train went from 300 kilometres per hour to zero kilometres per hour – almost instantly!

A human dies at 9 G, and a Human is liquified at 24 G.

“What the fuck!”

“How do I know all of this!”


That’s what she thought!


“Ok she thought to herself”


“Why won't the bloody thing stop?!”

She scanned the rows of readouts looking for answers.

Numbers unfolding willingly in her mind, offering and presenting themselves almost salaciously to her cognitive whims.

Advanced mathematics and engineering scenarios melted and evaporated like butter under the blue flamethrower of her most casual of thoughts.

A wall of dials (she was in the engineering car behind the driver's cabin) that would intimidate most other people withered under her cerebral gaze.

In less than half a second she saw the relevant errors and sighed.

The train's computer was convinced that everything was normal.

Something was giving it fake readings thus overriding any safety protocols.

The computer even had a fake time reading while still thinking that it was synced to the wider network.

The computer thought that there was still a driver and that this driver was pressing all the right buttons at all the correct times.

So, for the fake readings to be fed live to this computer, There must be a second computer.

A box of circuits somewhere that was constantly fibbing to the native computer.

This was done on purpose!

Someone wanted this train to crash.

Of course, that was obvious! How else could this situation possibly happen?

She pinched her nose as her brain filled her head with accidentally summoned, increasingly unlikely, alternative scenarios that could also make this happen.

The mental flood overwhelmed and stunned her for a second.


“Rule one, don’t waste time asking yourself the wrong questions!”

“My brain needs to constantly be reigned in a bit, like a wild stallion!”

“I need to watch and account for that potential weakness.”


“I suppose I'd better check the passenger parts of the train”

She looked down at herself.

Her body was young and to be honest, fairly esthetically hot!

There was some decent muscle tone there and a patch of dark, well-trained pubic hair against some pale skin.

But it was also very naked and there seemed to be no obvious solution.

She ran her fingers through the hair on her scalp, It was long but not long enough for her to pull around to her own eyes so she could see its colour.

For now, she would assume that the “curtains” and the “drapes” matched.

She shrugged, Her eye colour could be almost anything!



She was young, fit and highly educated with a certain type of brain architecture.

Now what?


Well, she had no idea where this train was in its journey or how long she had before it hit the station terminal.

“Terminal”, very much being the operative word here!

She could become instant soup” at any given moment!


No time to be bashful then.


The best tactic is to pretend that she was fully dressed and walk with total faked confidence.

She inwardly cringed as she thought of carriages full of sweaty businessmen all oggling her in shock and titillated amusement.

Big beath, And, Open!

“Wooosh!” went the opaque doors of the train's computer room.

The normal doors between passenger carriages were instead transparent.

There were no shocked crowds.

Only big five-gallon tubs of what looked like water that was strapped firmly into every seat.

Her first thought was,

“Some form of chemical, either toxic or explosive, which would mean terrorism?!”


Alternatively, as she had no idea who she was or what her government might be like,

“Some form of chemical, either toxic or explosive, which would mean freedom fighters?!”

That was the sort of fucked up question that usually, only history could decide over a hundred years later, for anyone!


All the carriage window blinds were drawn down, blocking any scenic views!


On the floor was a matching pair of guns.

They were big black ominous-looking pistols.

Like a heavy Desert Eagles with extended clips.

Gingerly she picked one of them up.

It was surprisingly light and soaking damp to the touch.

Too light.

FAR too light!

Deeply suspicious, she nudged off the safety.

The very light pistol hummed slightly, like a very tiny but very powerful electric motor.

She shielded her eyes and aimed down the empty carriage.


A long thin powerful jet of water hit the fat end with ease.

There was not much water but it had enough force to easily cover two carriage lengths if the doors were open.

But the doors were not open, and a small bit of water harmlessly ran down the intersecting glass door on the far end!

The other pistol was the same.

The “extended clips” were, in fact, some kind of battery pack.

This was a pair of overly high-spec water pistols.

Despite their silliness, she felt a deep urgent need to keep them and take them seriously!


She could see through the chain of transparent doors a figure slowly approaching.

It was a he, in a sharp suit, well built and handsome.

“Well that answers any questions I might have had about my sexuality.” she thought.

She knelt down on one knee and levelled her aim with both pistols.

Handsome did not mean nice or decent,

She was naked and feeling vulnerable.

And while it was true that women were NOT de-facto victims.

It was equally true that Men WERE STILL de-facto perpetrators!

Sure, These were only, “squirt guns”,

But HE did not know that, (she hopped)

They looked like real heavy calibre pistols!


He approached slowly with his hands up.

“Easy there agent!” he said with a smile.

“Well,” she thought “He certainly seemed to believe these pistols are real!”

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice croaking slightly despite herself.

Yet the poor man, these two pistols levelled at him, seemed for more scared than she was!

“I am your partner,” he gently said

He really was devastatingly good looking

Pale almost translucent blue skin like fine ivory.

Dark “kiss me” eyes and beckoning cherry pink lips.

A slight scruff of dark stubble and hair just a tiny bit longer than a normal businessman would find acceptable.

The suit was expensive and sharp yet he manage to wear it effortlessly, making it all most seem casually scruffy.

As if all the fine stitching and exorbitantly expensive cut of this suit simply gave up the ghost, trying to hide his animal masculinity.

“What do you mean partner,” she asked.

“I mean I am your pupil, I am your probationary partner, we are agents together on a mission!”

She found herself disappointed that this wonderful man was not her husband or lover!

His obvious fear, made her want to protect him.

She felt deep stirrings in her groin.

“Why am I naked” she demanded

“I was hoping to ask you the same thing!” he said confused “But it is obvious that you do not recognise me!”

The desire in her loins grew stronger.

Part of her wanted him IN her, RIGHT NOW!

“I know where the fake control box is!” he said, keeping his distance.

“But only you are smart enough to remove it!!

“We have not got much time!” He continued.

“These chemicals are going to level a large city and kill millions of innocents!”

In her kneeling on one leg, semi-prone firing position, she faces the imminent fear of audibly dripping sexual juices onto the floor!

“What the hell!” she thought. “How is he having this embarrassing effect on me!”


In a split second, chemical formulas, and knowledge of biology and psychology flooded her mighty mind.

This was the fulfilment of some male porn fantasy!

What was happing to her, this level of arousal in this type of situation WAS impossible!

There was something else going on here.

Keeping one pistol still aimed,

She pointed the other at the ceiling and then quickly, in one fluid move, ‘smashed in’ her own nose with the pistol's butt. Thoroughly breaking it, her blood splattering everywhere!

All this while never flinching or taking her aim off her male target.

Blood blocked and removed her sense of smell, her faculties began to return to normal.

He looked away shocked!

He slowly turned back towards her sweating and shaking, while she, still in firing position, remained composed as she slowly level both barrels of the bluffing squirt guns back at him.

Her eyes never daring to blink!

“What the hell!” he shouted.

His sweating and shivering got ever worse as some sort of shock took him over!

But there was something else in his eyes.

A type of hunger that was growing as the blood poured down her impassive face.


“Look we have not got time for this!” He screamed in desperation.

“A whole city of people will die! IF you do not remove the terrorist control unit!”

“I know here it is!”

“I can show you”

Between the pain, Basic gut instinct, the mighty mind and the lack of smell, blocking his pheromone cocktail, she now had full control of herself back.

She still did not know who SHE was.

But she was dam sure that HE was the enemy!

He was lying to her, maybe not about everything, but certainly about anything important.

“Please he begged” the strange look of hunger in his eyes, growing.

“… no …” She said firmly as a smile arched up on her bloody lips!

Something in him snapped and he dashed forward with unnatural speed, knocking both guns out of her hand.

She broke his attempted grapple and flipped backwards like an Olympic gymnast onto her feet.

There were two fake guns on the floor, both of them just water pistols.

He did not know this.

She did not have the time to remember as her muscle memory took over.

He got to his first, as he dived for the floor for it.

She got there second, remaining standing, as she dug her toes under and using her foot, quickly flopped the gun up and into her hand.

For a second, he goated, eyes burning red, large fangs growing from his vampiric smile

He levelled the still soaking damp gun and screamed in pain as his hand seemed to dissolve from the water, but not before he managed to pull the trigger.

The liquid hit her square in the chest and dibbled down, it was, after all, only harmless water!

She fired her pistol.

The liquid hit his head and his face. His neck and skull collapsed and also dissolved like a wet paper bag hit with acid.

He fell to the floor crying out in an unholy howl into a puddle of green and black goo.

She stepped over and picked his pistol up.

Even though it seemed both a counterintuitive and a stupid thing to do. She aimed each pistol in turn at her own hand and fired.

Nothing. Just harmless water damped her skin slightly.

Whatever that was, It was not human.

Whatever that was, THIS water seemed to kill it!

The high specs of these water pistols meant that they clearly would not leak, at all!

Yet, both of them were soaking wet on their surface when she discovered them.

Soaking wet pistols would not be able to be picked up, moved or hidden from her by these things.

She knew, somehow that she, herself had left these pistols for her, soaked in water to stop them from being taken away from her future self.

This meant that her past self knew that she was about to lose her memory, and had planned.

No note had been left, so that past self must have had only seconds to do something!


That still did not explain the nakedness though!


Another point of logic was this.

If that thing wanted the train stopped,

It was VERY likely that she was here to make sure that it crashed!


She went over to the blinds and opened one.

Outside was a night-time nightmare world of crimson lighting and heavy blood red light saturating a dying world.

She nodded to herself grimly.

Moving past the computer section and into the main driver cabin she took a look at what the train was going to ram into.


There was a large head, the size of a mountain slowly rising out of a ruined and burning city.

The head was demonic and eldrich in nature.


Under the driver's seat, she saw a small bundle.

The best way to describe it was like a nun's habit in her size.

But instead of full length it only came down to the waste.

The other part of the matching outfit was some sort of combat trousers littered with as many pockets as the armour designer could get on there.

What little space did not have extra pockets had extra layers of high-tech armour plating instead!

There were some spare battery packs for the water pistols and some kind of grenades.

There were emergency rations and some advanced multi-tools.

The sort of tools that you could use, if you were a genius, to plant a box that would override the main computer of this train.


This train was going to hit that giant slowly rising demonic head with the force of kinetic impact of 16,543,494.89 Newtons, in a train of 1300 seats spread over 16 cars each holding 5 gallons of water.

That’s 6500 gallons of scared most blessed water!

Aimed as a one-shot bullet to that giant thing from hell, head!


Some vampire had tried to use his mind tricks to manipulate her into stopping this train.


She must have felt the effects of his power taking over and trusted the future self to work the problem out.

In time, normally, her memory would return.

But there was no time for that to ever happen now.

Clearly, the manipulation had not worked.

So now the powers of evil were going to try brute force.

Various creatures of the pit were circling overhead, only a small minority of which were vampires.


She donned her armour and readied her weapons.

She would die never really knowing ever again who she was.

But she would die fighting to keep this train going.

Until the very end!


Short Story

About the Creator

Ross E Fortune Lombardi

Writer. Gamer, Goth

A (Constantly Failing To Be Funny) satirist!

[email protected]

Mutare non est meum

Cantus moriar


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