Chapter 9: Death Note

To my annoyance, more police officers were already in attendance as we approached the platform, the train crew clearly having called ahead. Barricades had been erected, blocking every door except the one the deceased was leaving from. I had no idea why they’d do this, when he was already dead, and I didn’t particularly care either. I could already see how it would go, even if by some miracle I was able to sprint through that singular door, overpowering half a dozen police officers and paramedics on the way out. At best, I’d get tasered again, and wake up on the next loop. In the worst case scenario, I’d spend the entire remaining time awake, bruised and bored out of my mind in administrative detention, until time ran out and the loop restarted.

I wasn’t sure how I knew this, there wasn’t a manual of all the routes I was reading from, like the ones available online for second rate dating sims. Call it a hunch, then, one I’d had ever since my abrupt awakening at one minute past four: I was in too deep, and needed to see it through to the end, or else, it wouldn’t end. So, I stayed right where I was, and watched as medical workers crowded around the body, first taking his non-existent pulse, then beginning to scribble on notepads and talk in hushed tones through handheld pagers and walkie talkies.

“May I have your attention please,” the overhead speakers piped up again, with familiar words that no commuter ever wanted to hear. “Due to a medical emergency, passengers will not alight at Edinburgh Waverley. Services for Aberdeen, Inverness and Fort William will be departing shortly.”

Uninterested in watching the scrambling going on outside, I headed back to my cabin and locked the door behind me. I wasn’t entirely sure if this was the normal procedure for a death onboard, but normal had left a long time ago, so that hardly mattered. Instead, I headed back to my desk, so I could watch the night sky from the window, and only then did I discover that my knife had come with me, and was sitting on the desk.

“You’re mine now?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow. “Well, I suppose we both went through a traumatic experience together, maybe that caused a bond to form? My therapist seemed fond of that idea, anyway, the crazy old bat.”

I tucked it into a drawer, but otherwise paid it no mind; it might come in handy again, and it wasn’t a risk anyway, because as far as the police were concerned, the only death on board had come from a pre-existing heart condition. That tangent, on the other hand, did make me stop and think: why, of all people, was I the one trapped in a time loop? It had been decades, if not centuries since the events in the diary: even accepting the idea that a bitter old man’s final curse could last that long, shouldn’t it have expended itself already, against another poor, unfortunate soul?

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Or maybe, it had happened before, multiple times even, and I was merely the latest in a long line of mice to feel the trap. The implications were unpleasant, and made me wish for internet access yet again, so that I could investigate whether there’d ever been any mysterious disappearances on this route before. Then again, even if there had been, would the deaths all be rewritten into something more benign, as it already had been once tonight? The carriage juddered, pulling me out of my spiralling thoughts, just in time for the next announcement.

“Attention all passengers. Coach 15 has been designated a potential crime scene. All passengers from Coach 15, please make your way to the main corridor. A staff member shall direct you to your replacement cabins.”

“Fuck sake.”

At least I’d already packed, so it didn’t take much effort to get going, after grabbing the knife and sticking it in my bag. No need for any nosy officers to find it in my drawer, and draw the wrong conclusions. Part of me wondered why I was so calm, after either directly or indirectly killing a man, but I just chalked it down to a general sense of apathy, after so much time spent on the train. Either that, or Hollywood lied to me again, and it was not in fact normal for people to throw up after a first kill. I wouldn’t be surprised, given how badly wrong my attempt to jump the platform went.

Still, it was probably best not to appear suspicious, so I duly left my cabin, lining up behind the elderly gentleman and the two students from before.

Nobody else joined us, to my surprise: maybe this car was just particularly empty for the run? At least it didn’t take long for the guard to check my ticket, and allocate me to the same class of cabin, one carriage up. The others all got sent two carriages up, and that was it. This time, when I stepped into the void between carriages, I actually made it to my intended destination, instead of warping straight to the Club Car, validating my assumption that everything was being stage-managed, somehow, and I’d advanced a stage, changing the parameters. Behind me, the guard disconnected the third carriage, leaving us officially down one for the route.

“Attention all passengers,” droned the voice I was really starting to get sick of hearing. “Due to a carriage defect, the seated car for Fort William will be removed from service. All passengers in the seated car, please disembark at the maintenance platform.”

Despite the circumstances, that final announcement made me laugh. The poor sods in their reclining seats already had a rough time of it, given the distances involved, and now they were getting off early. Exactly what I wanted to do, and yet, I bet none of them were even happy about it. Shaking my head in amusement, I began to unpack my things in my new cabin, same as the old one. At least I got a second round of complimentary chocolate, so something good came out of the diversion. After polishing off the bar of Mackie's, I decided to head to bed for the night. I'd had enough excitement for the loop, and who knew, maybe it had broken already, and I'd wake up the next morning at Fort William? Probably not, but a man can dream.