07. Headache

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CHAPTER SEVEN
HEADACHE

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BY THE TIME THE DUO HAD REACHED THE SECOND TRAIN CAR, TANGERINE HAD BECOME MORE DISHEVELLED. He'd discarded of his royal blue tie, pocketed it inside his blazer, and unbuttoned a few on his baby blue shirt.

He huffed to Estela behind him. "We've been all down this bloody train and this cunt's nowhere to be fuckin' found!"

Head still turned to glance behind him as he walked, Tangerine stepped through the automatic door. However, his next step was short-lived as his path was halted with a bump into the following door.

"The fuck!" Tangerine looked down at the door, to find a cane protruding from the door, preventing it from fully closing, causing it to stay in a repetitive loop of opening, but not being able to fully open, and closing, but not being able to fully close. He peered through the window, eyes landing on the great stack of luggage preventing the door from opening.

He turned around to Black Cat, eyes ablaze. "That fucking motherfucker," he seethed. "Fucking sneaky cunt."

Estela pushed lightly past him to peer down at the obstacle herself, and exhaled heavily. She looked around the carriage, trying to find some resources last-minute.

"Oi, grab me that Momonga," she said in a low voice, pointing towards where a little girl sat in her seat, sleeping head perched on a Momonga plush, along with the show playing away on an iPad placed on the table in front of her.

The moustached man followed through, carefully yet swiftly taking the plush away from the girl's sleeping hold. As he passed it over to Black Cat, who was pulling the Beretta from her blazer, he scrunched his nose at the Momonga. "I still don't understand what the fuck a Momonga is."

As she approached the door, Estela pressed the white-and-blue plush to the muzzle of her firearm. A ringlet of hair fell into her face. "It's just some kids show," she muttered as she pulled the trigger.

Sparks and feathers flew, erupting in the air in a puff of smoke. The luggage spilled out the way of the door, scattering along the floor along with some of their contents, and the automatic door finally zipped open as it should.

With a squeaky "Momonga!" the plush fell limply to the floor, now gutted of its feathery intestines.

Estela kicked away some of the luggage from her path with her black Doc Martens and stepped into the purgatory between carriages one and two, where they should've been with less hassle, but, alas, this is where fate had led them.

"Fuck me," Tangerine mumbled, looking about in awe at the feathers fluttering peacefully down to the floor.

"That's not appropriate," Estela returned, sparing him a glance as she tucked a fly-away out of her face.

The man rolled his eyes, stepping through the door behind her, avoiding the stray luggage strewn about the floor.

Before taking it upon himself to enter Carriage One, Tangerine removed his handgun from his pocket, and pulled off his navy pinstripe blazer. He folded the jacket over the arm carrying the pistol, and sent Black Cat a nod before stepping through. Estela hung back, sort of as a Plan B in case they found Ladybug and he tried to escape by running up the platform.

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