Introduction

In which the cast is introduced, and one of its members leaves at the hands of another.

Picture it-snow gently falling high in the mountains. There was a rustic village there-well, it wouldn't be rustic for another hundred years, at least. It was the first week of the new year at the turn of the century, and this little town was just right for 1900. It was not very big, with only about hundred people living in it, but it had its own train station.

The station was full of smoke from trains come and gone, but the only one actually there at the moment was a smaller one, with about ten cars. The station was the perfect size for the little town in Russia, a peaceful village-at least until recently, when a gruesome murder had shaken the town.

Luckily, the murderer had been caught and the victim's family was able to grieve happily. Both victims' families, for you see, someone had been wrongly accused. However, in the nick of time, a detective from France had whisked through the town and solved the whole case in a matter of days with his lovely Hungarian assistant.

No one knew why they traveled together, only that wherever they went a crime was being committed and they knew how to solve it.

Their names were Detective Francis Bonnefois, he was a private eye, and his lovely assistant's name was Elisabeta Héderváry. All that was really known about them was that they were French and Hungarian, respectively, and that Elisabeta might or might not be married. She seemed to wear a ring, but only sometimes, and she'd been seen with men everywhere she went that she wasn't wearing said ring for. And of course, it was well-known that Francis would never touch Elisabeta in an inappropriate way, for fear of being bludgeoned to death with a random blunt instrument she kept on her body (rumors said it was either an anvil, a bag, or a frying pan. Most suspected the bag). The two always spoke in French to each other, but it seemed they also knew other languages which they spoke to others.

They were at the station for the obvious reason-to catch a train. They had actually planned to split up. Elisabeta would get off the train when it stopped in a small town just outside Vienna, Francis when it had gone a little further and ended up in Paris. There would be more stops along the way, but the whole trip wouldn't be more than two weeks long.

They were starting in the village, which was about two hundred miles from St. Petersburg, then would travel south to Kiev, west to Berlin, south to Vienna, then straight through the rest of Austria-Hungary and Switzerland to France. There would be stops in the smaller cities on the way, of course, but it would be a good, scenic trip.

Francis handed his luggage to the young porter, who scowled at him and threw the luggage unceremoniously under a seat, muttering in Italian. Francis was shocked at the treatment, but the case had worn him out and he didn't want to argue.

Elisabeta's bags were handled by a boy who could have been Francis' porter's twin (indeed he was the twin) and led her to her seat, across from Francis', cheerfully. "Have a good trip, Miss!"

"Thank you, young man. I shall certainly try." She smiled at him, and he skipped away happily.

"Ah, I am glad to finally be on my way home, Elisabeta," Francis sighed as he sunk back into his seat. "I miss Paris."

"And I miss Altstadt, and my Roderich." Elisabeta closed her eyes and pictured her husband. He was a sweet man who wouldn't hurt a fly, though he was a bit lazy. Still, he was loving, and she couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt when she remembered the string of lovers she'd acquired while she was traveling the continent with Francis.

"You will see him soon enough, Elisabeta," Francis replied. "Two weeks."

"I know, but it still seems so far away," she sighed wistfully.

"It is not. Calm yourself."

"I suppose you are right." She gathered herself up and pulled a book out of her handbag.

"Of course I am. I am always right." Elisabeta ignored him. She knew there was a point to which she could argue with Francis, but when he got into his extremely egotistical side, there was no use talking with him about it. She simply read her book and dreamed of home.

Four days later, they arrived at their first major stop: Kiev. The twin porters had stayed on the train to act as servants and served foods, made beds, and when they were on their breaks, chatted with Elisabeta and Francis and/or sulked in the conductor's car.

The detective and his assistant did not worry about having to get off and repurchase a ticket-they negotiated with the conductor and paid him enough to take them to their respective locations back in Russia. They had a few hours to kill, however, so they took a stroll around the city while other passengers boarded the train. Feliciano, the cheerful porter, promised to save their seats for them. His brother, Lovino, claimed he was making no promises about that.

When they returned, they found the train surprisingly empty, with only a few other people in their car. When they asked Lovino about it, he said, "They say a blizzard is going to take over Berlin in a few days, so most people don't want to risk it. Do you still want to stay?" Francis and Elisabeta both sensed a Please say no that he wasn't saying out loud.

Francis snorted. "Of course. I paid for this trip, and I will be in Paris by the end of it if you have to carry me there." Lovino shot him a dirty look before going to talk to a blonde man who was trying to get his attention a few seats away.

There was a girl who looked like she could be the man's twin if she only gained a few years sitting nearby, knitting, and Elisabeta, desperate for female contact after a four-day-long sausage fest, walked over to her immediately and introduced herself in French. "Hello, there. My name is Elisabeta."

The girl looked up from her knitting and smiled. "My name is Lilli. It's nice to meet you, Elisabeta," she replied in French, though her accent was heavily German.

"Very nice to meet you as well, Lilli. Tell me, where are you headed? You sound German, so is it Berlin?" asked Elisabeta, switching to German. She scooted a bit closer to Lilli.

"No, Paris," Lilli replied. "And my brother and I aren't German, actually. We're Swiss. But you were close." She smiled at Elisabeta.

"Ah, Swiss! I've never been to Switzerland, though my husband has. I'm from Austria-Hungary, actually, I was born in Budapest."

"Oh! I've only been to Austria-Hungary when I was traveling through there to get to here with my brother."

"Oh, you must visit someday, it's a lovely country."

"Only if you visit Switzerland," Lilli replied slyly.

Elisabeta laughed. "You'll have to show me around, then."

"And you'll have to show me around Austria-Hungary."

"It's a date, then!" They shook hands, and Lilli giggled.

"Lilli! Don't talk to strangers!" someone barked from a few seats away. Elisabeta and Lilli both turned. It was Lilli's brother.

"Vash, she's not-"

"It's fine, Lilli. I'm sorry. I didn't think your brother would react like that. Forgive me if I got you into any sort of trouble," Elisabeta said quickly. "Why don't you go sit with your brother? I'll find my companion." Lilli nodded. "We'll make our travel plans later," she added with a grin, then got up and sat back down in her original seat.

Francis rejoined her a few seconds later. "I just got back from an interesting chat with a man from China."

"Who?" She looked around the car.

"Over there, the one towards the back." He pointed surreptitiously at the man in the back. He had long, black hair tied back behind his head, and was wearing a red, silky, Chinese suit with gold patterns.

"What was so interesting about your chat?" she asked.

"Well, not much, he's a bit boring, but I could smell opium on him. He said he was going to London, so I'm assuming it's to negotiate for business. I mean, he says it's personal, something about his sister, I wasn't really paying attention, but of course that's some kind of front."

"Francis, what are you suggesting?" Elisabeta asked.

"Absolutely nothing. It's none of my business if a drug dealer is on the train with us and these poor young people. You know, Feli, Lovino, that girl you were with." Francis' eyes gleamed.

"I doubt he'll try to deal on the train, Francis." Elisabeta rolled her eyes.

"Oh, you never know. Anything could happen, my dear. You must keep your imagination open."

After another five days, the train arrived in Berlin. The station there was strangely deserted, and Francis and Elisabeta chalked it up to the oncoming storm that was apparently going to hit in only a day or so.

Still, a few people did board the train there-an Englishman with messy hair who took an instant disliking to Francis, his tall American companion who immediately loved everyone on the train, and a pair of German brothers, one of whom was tall, muscular, and blond, named Ludwig, and another who was shorter, thinner, and albino, named Gilbert. Elisabeta was intrigued by him, as she'd never actually met an albino person before, but quickly decided she didn't like him.

He wouldn't stop flirting with her.

Normally, this would be something Elisabeta would be flattered by, possibly even encourage, but her close proximity to her husband had turned her off from entertaining other men for the time. She tried her best to stay away from him, but the train was small, and the only way she could hold him at bay was to direct his interests to Francis. The two got along like a fish and water, which was a blessing and a curse, it seemed to Elisabeta.

Francis wasn't bothered by Elisabeta's troubles, however. He was more interested in the Englishman-not only because of the Englishman's (whose name was Arthur) distaste for him, but because of his apparent relationship to the Chinese man, whose name was Yao. He asked the American, Alfred Jones, about them, but Alfred brushed him off, saying they had no relationship whatsoever. Of course, this only deepened Francis' curiosity.

"Perhaps they don't actually know each other, Francis. I mean, they've never actually spoken except for when they both wanted the steak but there was only one left," Elisabeta sighed. She'd just gotten out of another tiring conversation with Gilbert and didn't want to deal with Francis quite yet.

"But it's so obvious they do know each other, Elisabeta. Look! Use your eyes! Yao clearly loathes Arthur, though like you said, they've never spoken. See the way he looks at him when he thinks no one is watching? He glares at him with all his might, Elisabeta. And Arthur is clearly trying to avoid him. He spends all of his time with his American friend-in fact, I don't think he's really spoken to anyone besides him except to curse at us or ask us to pass the salt. It's because he doesn't want us to notice him, and he doesn't want us to remember him. And of course Yao has something to do with it, I just know it." Elisabeta just nodded while Francis started to ramble. "After all, we're all going to remember Yao, because Yao is from China and it's highly unlikely any of the people on this train will ever meet anyone else from China. And if Arthur is connected to Yao in any special way, we'll remember his as well, as the man from England who knew the man from China, and I don't think Arthur wants to risk us knowing that." Francis crossed his arms and grinned smugly.

"And how do you know all of this?" Elisabeta asked. "Have you just been staring at Mr. Kirkland these past two days since we left Berlin?"

"No, that's not all I've spent my time doing. I've been looking at Vash Zwingli too, I think there's something up with him as well. He's far too stiff for a man going to Paris for vacation with his little sister. He obviously has some kind of illicit business there he doesn't want to tell us about."

"Of course he does, Francis." Francis frowned at Elisabeta. "I'm just trying to say, not everyone has a horrible secret. You don't need to think that some kind of crime is going to be committed just because the man from China clearly hates the man from England, as many people from China do, and because the Swiss man seems a bit stiff."

Francis sighed. "Well, I was just trying to have a bit of fun, you know? I can't help it. It's instinct."

"May I have everyone's attention, please?" someone called from the front of the car. Elisabeta and Francis turned. It was Feli, wringing his hands together nervously. "We are sorry to announce that the blizzard that was intended for Berlin has gone south and completely buried the tracks on the way to Vienna." Someone groaned. "But, the good news is, we will still be able to go to Paris. It will take another three days because we'll have to cut through Belgium. We are very sorry for the inconvenience." He ran back to the servant car where he and his brother slept.

Elisabeta scowled. "Now how long will I have to wait to see my Roderich?" she murmured sadly.

Francis reached over and patted her hand. "I promise we will find you a way to Austria-Hungary after we arrive in Paris, Elisabeta. I am sorry."

Someone groaned in the back again. "Who is making that noise?" Lilli asked out loud. Another groan came. "It sounds like someone is hurt!"

Francis and Elisabeta jumped up. The two of them, the German brothers, and Lilli were the only ones actually in the car, and the noise seemed to be coming from the car behind theirs. Francis ran to the back and opened the door to the next car.

Yao was lying on the floor, blood blossoming out of his stomach, staining his white shirt red. "Yao!" Elisabeta shouted when she caught up to Francis. She kneeled down next to him. Lilli ran up next to her. "Stand back, I know what I'm doing."

She started tearing up Yao's shirt, trying to staunch the wound. Actually, wounds. It appeared that he had been stabbed multiple times in the stomach. Yao groaned again. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. It was clear he was not going to make it.

"Yao! Who did this to you?" yelled Francis. Yao just moaned again. "Yao! We need to know who did this so we can help you!"

"I'm sorry...Mei..." he choked out. The blood continued to pour from the gaping wound in his stomach, but slower, and his breathing stopped.

"No," whispered Elisabeta. She checked for a pulse. "No!"

Francis put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elisabeta. You couldn't save him."

"No!" she sobbed. "No! I refuse!"

Francis gave her a sad look, then closed Yao's eyes. "Come. Crying over his death won't help him. We need to figure out who did this.

"We must find out who on this train is a murderer."

AN: Just a few notes. The town where Roderich lives, Altstadt, is taken from the name of the town that Castle Brennenburg in Amnesia is by. It's supposedly in the Black Forest. I have no idea if it even exists.

I have never read Agatha Christie's Murder on the Orient Express. I just used the name and sort of the premise. I do not own Murder on the Orient Express. Any similiarities between the two are completely coincidental.

This is fun~ I'm excited. But this prologue got so long I had to make it into an introduction. Psh. Whatever.

Enjoy~