Status Terminated

It was a normal day, like any other. Boring. Greaseball, the 'Might' Union Pacific, felt pretty down today, as he hauled his usual load. From here to there, he pulled his weight, becoming nothing more than just a taxi service. Today's carriages, the Rockies...

"Stop pushing!" growled Rocky II to Rocky III, and the two stopped the train and began a boxing fit.

Rocky came tot he rescue, only to have a punch and soon join into the fray. "Cut it out!"

"Quit pulling my couples!"

"I'm not pulling you- OUCH!"

Suddenly, all three boxcars were on the floor, each doubled over in pain. Greaseball stood over them with a curled fist; he was not in a good mood for games at all, and they're constant bickering was NOT helping in the least. "Shut the hell up or I will beat the living beings out of you!"

"But Greaseball-" Rocky III began.

"We don't have living beans inside of us!" added Rocky with a wink.

Rocky II demonstrated as he bashed his own head and chest, letting the echo reverberate. "Empty!"

The diesel rolled his eyes under the shaded helmet. "Riggggggght..."

The Rockies didn't get it at all, so they just coupled themselves again and continued on their merry way.

'Maybe next year I'll have more luck...' Greaseball thought, still dwelling on the race he lost to that little steamer, Rusty. Not, believe it or not, he was the champ, and here was Greaseball, filling in his duties. "This sucks..."

Rocky rose his head, "Bucks? Where? I love running those over!"

"I said you suck, now hush!"


Immediately the boxcar silenced again. The diesel train was in a really crappy mood.

As you also might has noticed, Greaseball had not converted into a steam train as he said he would have. It was not worth the trouble, and after meeting with Electra (which was kept a secret, even though everyone knew about it), Wrench had him fixed and ready to go again, same with Electra. It had an insane price (which Electra held over his head for a long time), but there was absolutely NO way this diesel was to become a rotten steamer.

He then wondered what had happened to Electra; after the secret meeting, he lost contact with him (except when Purse came to collect his money). Not like he wanted to talk to him anyway, at least not for personal reasons.

But his concentration was shattered as they rolled over the bridge, Rocky III gave an ear piercing shriek. The train came to an abrupt stop, causing a train reaction. Greaseball threw the Rockies off of him as he rose.

"Man, that was my ear!" Rocky II swerved to punch his brother. Greaseball went to do the same until he saw how pale the youngest of the Boxcars was trembling insanely. Something was wrong.

The oldest asked, a bit of concern in his voice. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!"

"Don't be silly, there are no such thing as ghosts!" Greaseball growled.

"Something..." Rocky III pointed. "Down there!"

The boxcar was trembling too much to speak right now, and Greaseball took a riskful glance at the edge of the bridge.

So did the other Rockies.

At first he saw nothing because of the tented window, but as he turned on his lights, he saw the outlines of what appeared to be a body. Greaseball had a guess of what happened, as he now noticed a horrible dent in one of the railings.

"Who... is... that?" Rocky asked, squinting to see the truck below.

"Can't tell..." proclaimed Rocky II. He turned to comfort his brother (actually was going to knock some sense back into him), when he screamed, pointing to what he discovered laying on the tracks in the shadows. "AHHHHHH! IT'S A DEAD LADY!"

Greaseball, who was trying to identify the body at the bottom of the bridge, swerved and looking in the direction of Rocky II's trembling arm. This one was easy to recognized. A component, by the looks of the outfit, and her red and white frame was completely totaled. Greaseball could not hold his gasp. "Joule..."

The Dynamite truck's red eyes were gazed over, and some kind of fluid flowed from her mouth. It was still wet, but it was cold. She was dead, and by the looks, it was some kind of crash.

"A train wreck maybe?" Rocky asked, and Greaseball looked to see the three boxcars hugging onto each other. "Yeah, a wreck!"

"A horrible wreck!" Rocky II whimpered.

"A DEAD WRECK!" screamed Rocky III.

"Calm down!" Greaseball growled, waving a clenched fist over their heads, silencing their cries. "We're getting no where by screaming out motors out!"

Again, Greaseball glanced at Joule, and then he turned to look over the side of the railing. He could only guess exactly who it was, but he had a feeling it was either Electra or another component.

He started to climb over the rails, and Rocky II asked, "Where are you going?"

"To see who the other body is," Greaseball answered, almost loosing his balance as his wheels hit the slope. The Rockies gave him a look that begged him to stay, but he ignored it. He had easy control over his emotions. "I'll be back."

"But what if you don't?" asked Rocky III in a trembling voice.

"What do you mean 'what if I don't come back?'"

"What if it was a murder?"


The boxcars nodded.

"That's insane!" spat Greaseball, beginning to decline. He laughed, trying to liven the mood up for them. It was obvious that they were not used to seeing a fatal train wreck before, he thought, pitying them. He seen plenty enough to learn from their mistakes. "Murders within trains is preposterous!"

"Yeah, per-posterosis!" nodded Rocky, trying to calm his brothers down.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're acting silly!"

"Where are you going?"

"With Greaseball!"

"Why? You scared too?"

"Of course not!" Rocky quickly turned away to hide his pale face, and he kept his leg from trembling. He wasn't scared, he was terrified! "You two be quite and wait for us to come back now!"

With that, the Diesel train and the oldest boxcar left, leaving the trembling trucks to just tremble on their own. It took awhile for Greaseball and Rocky to descent to the bottom, and each of them took their share of slipping up. Slightly out of breath, Greaseball panted lightly, trying to regain his wind. But Rocky cartwheel, showing he was in perfect shape. 'Stupid freight...'

"Would you stop fooling around?" Greaseball sneered, wanting to wipe that silly grin off of Rocky's dirty face. "Let's go find that body..."

Rocky saluted, never a supporter of diesel but managing to hold a truce. "Aye-aye, GB!"

Rolling his eyes, Greaseball began the search. However, it did not take long for them to find the demolished body of Electra's very own bodyguard. Rocky noticed something before Greaseball did, which was a first. Hew spoke in a high pitched voice, somewhat like an old granny. "Oh... his little head fell off!"

"Rocky... that's not funny..."

The gray truck's head was not too far away, but neither of the two had the guts or wit to bring it back to its body.

Poor Rocky was trying to come up with a simple solution of the situation. "So, he just fell off the bridge and the impact of the ground caused his head to shoot off, right?"

Greaseball looked at the dented body, then at the head. With his foot, he turned it over to face him, and Rocky ran away to puke. Krupp stared at him with those dead eyes, and it was a clean cut. Greaseball's face paled a bit. It looked as if it happened before Krupp's inevitable fall. The diesel's face tightened in thought, and he followed Rocky to make sure he was alright.

He found the boxcar a few meters away, bent over and releasing his vomit. The Union Pacific kept his distance until he was done, and he asked, "You okay?"

"Yeah... I think I lost my lunch, though..." Rocky turned to Greaseball, but the engine was looking elsewhere. "What?"

"Don't look, just get back up to the bridge and go fetch the marshals." Greaseball ordered, not taking his eyes off of whatever he was looking at. "Go already..."

The boxcar had the wits to obey him, and he scrambled to his feet and started climbing, not daring to look back. Greaseball was thankful that Rocky was the smarter of the three, and now that he was gone, Greaseball flashed his lights to get a better look at the new bodies.

One was laying on top of the other, and the one on top was Wrench, bent over the prone body of Volta. He could tell they were both dead, and the Repair's truck's back was ripped to shreds, while Volta looked to be in the worse condition yet. Her head was halfway off her shoulders, dangling on her left shoulder, as Greaseball noticed her limps were in every which away. Wrench's arms were wrapped around her, holding her close, even to death, and Greaseball could only wonder who would be sick enough to mutilate their bodies after death? Greaseball was disgusted with the sight, yet he could not understand the small smile that lingered on Volta's face, nor the serene look of Wrench.

They seemed happy to die.... Maybe happy to die together, Greaseball thought, suddenly feeling the urge to vomit. And even the might Greaseball could not resist it anymore.

Who the hell was this sick, he wondered. No, this was no train wreck now... decapitation and mutilation was not the results of an accident. And now he wondered; what happened to the last two? The Engine and his obviously favorite Money Truck?

"Electra!" Greaseball called out after wiping his mouth with his hand. He heard nothing but an echo, and in spite of himself, he expected and feared that the worse happened to them. "Purse!"

He was alone (well, if you don't count that dead bodies), and he really wondered if he wanted to find them or not. So far he saw a crushed Joule, a decapitated Krupp, and two butchered femme components, and he could only think of how bad Purse and Electra could be.

"God... this makes me sick..." Greaseball groaned, looking up and hoping that Rocky was doing his task. Until then, he would have to wait...

All thoughts were shattered when something shiny caught his eyes. Someone was out there; he was not along anymore. He heard a faint sound in the distant... sounded like someone crying...

He followed the sounds into the darkness, praying that his head lights would be powerful enough to cut through the shadows. The cries got stronger and stronger until he reached the darkest part, finally noticing a railroad track. It was dusted and rusted, worn in its years, but there was something... something familiar about those tracks. It led tot he opening to an old mine... an Old Abandoned mine... Greaseball blinked. This place...

Horrible memories overcame his sense now, as he just stared there. He could see himself, the youngest and smallest engine, only a few years old, hauling big hoppers and various freights, filled with grimy coal and oil...

Why did it have to lead here?

Greaseball wanted to turn and leave this place. Maybe he can tell the marshals to look here... he hadn't the nerve to enter those mines.

Again, something caught his eyes, and he looked to his left and spotted two more bodies, cut short of the entrance to the abandoned mines. Except this time... one of them was alive...


It was him who was crying, and as he backed up, he could see why. In the AC-DC's engines arms was a dead Money truck, and Greaseball could almost feel Electra's pain as the engine rocked back and forth, holding Purse in his arms still and closer to his chest. "What happened?"

Electra said nothing to him, just continued his little conversation with his dead Purse. "Come on.... Nap time is over... wake up Purse... Purse..."

Greaseball sighed, and he drew closer. Now he could see Electra's damage. One arm was frayed, and he almost puked again to see the wires this way and that. Sparks flew from his battery pack, which leaked with some kind of fluid, and his rollers were completely ruined. He needed a maintenance vehicle...

"Electra, Purse is dead..."

There was a crash of thunder, and the diesel looked up. He was so busy counting the bodies that he had yet to notice the darkness of the sky. And Greaseball knew an electric train could not work in the rain. "Electra, you need to get to a shelter."

But the train did not move, he only shook Purse some more with what little strength he had left. No, he could not shed tears, but he could still moan. "Pursey, please, wake up! I'm your Master! I command you to wake up! WAKE UP!"

Unable to stand anymore, Greaseball placed a hand on his shoulder's, feeling him tense. "Purse is dead, Electra, now, please... before you short circuit, get your ass into that mine!"

"NO!" Electra shouted, jerking from his hold. He held Purse closer, not wanting Greaseball to take the only thing he had left away. "Let me have him! You can't take him away from me!"

"Calm down! Nobodies taking him!"

Greaseball froze when Electra zapped him, but it was weak. The AC-DC Train held Purse's limp form in his good arm, and as sparks began to shoot from his frayed arm, he turned back to his Money truck. "Purse, I'm not angry with you... please, just open your eyes..."

Someone grabbed his couples and forced him to his feet. Greaseball's voice was soft, something Electra never heard before. "Don't argue with me on this... Purse is gone... and you dying won't mean anything..."

Those eyes met Greaseball, and he froze under them. "No... No! NO!"

Now the two fought for the body; Greaseball removed his arms from the couplers to grab Electra's arms, forcing the body to drop from his arms. Electra fought and struggled, going to pick up the truck again, but he found it getting further and further away as Greaseball began to drag Electra to the abandoned mines. "NO!"

He began to struggle violently now, but it was to no avail. No, Greaseball never really cared for the AC train before, but he wasn't just going to sit around and let him die. He could almost feel Electra's pain at the moment; he must have watched the Components' deaths, but Purse was probably the final blow...

However, he WAS losing his patience with Electra with every punch, kick, and zap, and Electra's damaged wheels sparked against the tracks.

"Electra, dammit, settle down!" Greaseball's grip only got tighter with each blow, but he could see Electra slowly losing energy. "Save your strength for later! I can't haul you up the hill alone!"

"NO! NO! NO!"

"Hey, watch those- ow!"



Greaseball almost lost his grip, and seeing that Electra wasn't going to go down without a fight, the diesel released one of his couple and smashed his clenched fist into Electra's temple. A gasp left his throat, and Greaseball barely caught him before he completely sprawled to the tracks. "Sorry, but you brought it upon yourself..."

Of course, Electra was too dazed to respond, so it was much easier to drag an unconscious engine than a struggling one. He dragged him towards the mine; that would be the best shelter until the storm was over. His only problem was getting himself to stay in the mines himself. 'You're strong, Greaseball... strong, very strong...'

He told himself that over and over again until he said it aloud, but it got him and Electra into the mines just in time was the rain came down in sheets, raining upon the corpses of the components and another train. He watched them enter their shelter... and soon to be their tomb...