The Noon Train

The Silent Murderer began as a myth that started circulating the internet in the late nights of October 2010. The origins of The Silent Murderer has never been proven, but the general three accepted theories are the following; it was just a joke, a super villain wanted to tell a greater lie than the Mad Hatter, and God had finally brought in the oddball to end all. Despite the unknown origins there is something for certain, there have been only 3 confirmed kills by The Silent Murderer. The question that rises before these 3 kills are revealed is how does an Odd with the oddity to kill any person without a trace of their own existence even leave behind evidence that they killed someone.

The three confirmed kills were, Edward Gracefield, in 2010 he was found in his bedroom with his brain completely missing, yet he looked quite at peace. In 2013, former top 3 hero, Spicy-o Sistah, suddenly died in the middle of patrol with no discernable cause. Finally, in 2016, Grace Nightingale was found with her body fully in tact despite falling 15 stories. Each person was never linked with each other or even had a relationship with each other. Each were of a different age, and Edward Gracefield didn't even posses an oddity like the other two.

The people of the internet simply declared these 3 as the only confirmed kills as they are the only deaths that had mysterious unsolvable deaths in Candle City. Even when taken into account every single oddity in their vicinity, oddities around the world, and even their own oddity drawbacks. With Candle City being the birthplace of many hero policies, where the most crime happens in the world, and where people consider to be, "Where heroes are born". Many people have assumed that the Silent Murderer was born somewhere in Candle City.

"Of course, the murderer is not real. If he were I would have found where he lived, grabbed him by the throat. Burned him from the outside, then slowly roast his insides, until his every nerve screams in pain and regrets killing my daughter!" A statement from Jeremy Nightingale after being interviewed by a youtuber.

After Grace's death the talks of The Silent Murderer dominated the internet, for years. Many fakes and copy cats arrived, but all were caught and detained by the Damien family. What came after was a movement. A shared delusion that moved the hearts of the silent, who now can only move their mouths to speak the thoughts of the Silent Murderer.

"The Odd that will bring back God."

Stanley hated the Silent Murderer. He hated that he was the one to blame for the death of his beloved grandfather, for the death of his favorite hero, and the death of his girlfriend. He especially hated this movement of acting out the Silent Murderer's Thoughts.

As Stanley stared down the mysterious hooded figure he thought, "What is their oddity?" Darleen whimpered as she turned her head toward the mysterious man, "I heard about these freaks. I thought Nietzsche said God was dead in his book about Oddity power, and these freaks are absolutely stomping on that theory." Stanley turned to Darleen, "Shut off the music, and stop talking! Aren't you a bit too young too know about Nietzsche anyway!" Stanley returned his vision back to where the mysterious hooded figure used to be.

"He's vanished," he thought while Darleen paused the music emitting from Stanley's phone and yelled, "I'm 19, I have you know." Once she was done, she looked in the direction of where the mysterious figure used to be, she gasped, then looked around. "He must have some kind of invisibility oddity, that or he can move extremely fast," Stanley thought, "If he could move extremely fast then why hasn't he killed us yet?" Darleen stood up on her seat, brought her phone to her face, she was still recording, and screeched.

"The frog lady," Stanley turned to the where the frog lady was. He became wide-eyed as he saw a wide gaping bullet hole through the head of the frog lady. Her carcass spewed out a horrid stench. The train car fell silent, while blood fell onto the floor of the car. Stanley slouched over and covered his mouth, "I let someone die. I should have acted before hand. How could I be so stupid," Stanley slapped himself in the face. "Grace, help them find their way to some afterlife."

Stanley took a look at his surroundings while thoughts raced through his mind and into his heart, forcing it to beat faster. "He managed to get past me and Darleen without any detection, and shoot a bullet into that lady. At what point did he disappear? No- When did the lady die? better question is, how did he manage to shoot her without a sound? A silencer maybe? Was the music that loud that I couldn't hear him he was there until I turned around."

"Mr. Morale?"

"What?"

"I'm scared," Darleen's voice cracked.

Mr. Morale, turned to Darleen and smiled at her. She watched him straighten his back through her phone camera, "Be not afraid friend. For Mr. Morale will kill these villains," he proudly said as he heard the cocking of a gun behind his ear. Like a cat his hair sprung up on the back of his neck, he jolted his neck to the direction of the sound. He saw a detached gloved hand holding an 1802 flintlock pistol. His immediate reaction was a laugh, "Ignore the oddity for now. This is an armed man, now am I faster than the bullet or faster than his trigger finger."

Mr. Morale twisted his upper body around and jumped at the gun with his right hand. The detached hand twisted its wrist and aimed at Darleen. With the momentum of turning his body, and the momentum of pushing upward with his right hand, Mr. Morale panicked. "He's not the only villain on this train. How many else of them are there? Is this even his oddity? Where is the rest of his body? Is he aiming at Darleen? What about everyone else on the train? Are they even safe? How many of them died like frog lady?"

The detached hand's fingers squeezed on the trigger. "Stanley, just commit," a familiar feminine voice whispered in his ear. Stanley closed his eyes and pushed the hand's wrist up, forcing the gun to be angled upwards to the ceiling of the train car. The round bullet inside fires. Hitting the ceiling and ricocheting back into Stanley's foot. Stanley immediately used his other hand to grab the gun. He elbowed the area directly behind the detached hand. He felt no collision. "Did he dodge or is his oddity detachment?"

"Mr. Morale behind you!"

Mr. Morale turned his head around and saw another detached hand fly to his neck. The detached hand attempted to grab the life out of him, as the other detached hand dropped the pistol and began punching his gut. Stanley desperately clawed away at the hand around his neck. Digging his fingers between his neck and the hand's fingers. He groaned and scream, "Fuck this guy." Stanley strained his muscles and snapped the hand's fingers. Both hands stopped moving and slowly disappeared. In front of Mr. Morale, the mysterious figure appeared with his black hood down revealing a lean man with glasses, wearing black robes, he was bald, crying, and holding his broken hand's wrist, "Super strength? Really?! Of all the fucking oddities the cowboy could have."

Stanley caught his breath, and limped over to the man. He grabbed him by the head and pushed him slightly back, crouching down next to him, "Yo, bastard," Mr Morale smiled, "How many of you are there?"

"Heh, I would never tell a guy like you."

"That's unfortunate, 'cause," Stanley leaned in and whispered into his ear, "A guy like me isn't afraid to break every bone in your hand. Then your foot, then your leg, maybe I'll go for your arm next? Should I make a game out of it? Play Rigby with your femur? My brother is a bone collector I don't think he'll mind me donating some internet weirdo's remains to him."

"Your empty threats don't phase me!" Mr. Morale smiled, and grabbed his broken hand, he held it like a sandwich while he broke the hand further. Each snap made the man scream louder than the last time he screamed. "How many of them are you? Are there as many as there are fingers you've got left?"

"I'll never tell you!"

Stanley sighed, "Alright. I believe you." Mr. Morale stood up, took a step back. "I'm guessing they're in the front car anyway. No way you could have made the announcement, and I haven't heard any screams from the car behind us or the car ahead of us. If you could silently disappear, it's a good chance that your friends can too." Mr. Morale placed his right palm over his left. "Conscious Creation," Mr. Morale's palm glowed a bright blue, he separated his hands further until the blue light formed into a brown baseball bat with a little cowboy hat attached to the top of it.

"What the fuck," Darleen and the man said simultaneously.

"The hat is such a cute addition."

"Thank you Darleen," Mr. Morale said winking, smiling, and pointing at her while he rested the bat on his shoulder. He then turned to the man, who was groaning in pain, he swung the bat at his face, but stopped it short of hitting. "Don't get it twisted, I still have super strength. Now as a kid my dad used to gather all of his children, and make us swing at watermelons during the summer. I haven't done it in years so I might fuck up a little bit. I might need a couple swings to get your melon to burst."

He swayed the bat back and forth as though to build up momentum, "One, two, thre-"

"Two," the man yelped.

"Are you trying to make me lose count? I have to redo it now."

"No," the man interrupted, "There are two other friends with me. They're in the front car and made everyone a hostage there so if any heroes come they had leverage. I was supposed to go car to car and assassinate everyone. Please don't kill me sir. I don't even think The Silent Murderer is even real, they paid me because I joined the chatroom and had a good oddity for them. Please, I was just used. I beg you. I beg you."

Mr. Morale dropped his smile, rested the bat on his shoulder and caressed the man's chin, "Attaboy." He then slapped him so hard his ears leaked blood, he became unconscious just as quickly as the slap came.

As his body fell Mr. Morale walked past it and began limping towards the front car, "Darleen please use my phone to call 911."

"You're going to the front car? Your foot is bleeding."

"I already told you I was gonna kill these villains. Just make sure you're safe," Stanley reached the door separating the train cars. He opened the door, took a deep breath, and stepped into the next car