It felt like a dream—the sound of dripping water striking a puddle in an abandoned train station. The windows led to nowhere. A haze of the supposed outside world mimicked my mind, clouded and fragmented like my memory. Cold seeped into my soaked socks and boots, the stagnant water teeming with mosquitoes, their larvae writhing like tiny specters of life beneath my feet.

"Where am I?" The thought echoed as my gaze lingered on the cracked ceiling. Exhaustion dragged at my eyes, my fingers tracing the sagging contours of my skin—rubbery, as though time had leached the life from me.

I shifted uncomfortably against the rubber seat, too drained to care. My head leaned back against the grimy window, my eyes drawn to the standing poles ahead—until I caught sight of her.

She seemed like a fair young lady—a complete contrast to me. Her golden hair cascaded in waves, her soft lips slightly parted in serene sleep, unbothered by the grotesque decay around her. Her clothes were refined with a cute red bow, speaking of a life far removed from this place. But a mark tainted her: a bruised ring around her neck, stark and chilling.

image [https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GdgNDd2WQAAi-aK?format=png&name=small]

"I’m sorry," she mumbled suddenly, her voice thick with sleep. I was startled, unsure if she was speaking to me.

"Sorry? For what?" I wondered. No response came.

"I apologize for making you wait," a voice interrupted, soft yet commanding, rich with a British accent. It reverberated through the train.

Turning, I froze. A creature towered above me, its tar-black form shimmering like a liquid shadow. Its face—a kaleidoscope of shifting shapes—evaded comprehension. Madness clawed at my mind as I stared, my fingers twitching, drool slipping from my lips as I forgot to breathe. Death pressed against me like a vice, my chest burning as I tore my gaze away.

"I’m terribly sorry," it said, its tone unnervingly polite. My body screamed to run. My heart thundered, ribs aching with every frantic beat, as I gripped my face and gasped for air.

"I should handle myself better," it continued, almost casually. "Allow me to introduce myself. Call me—Ed and this is my train"

"Your train—" I murmured, my voice trembling as I watched Ed step forward. Ripples spread beneath its feet, the mosquitoes scattering in frantic flight.

"Yes, you see," it said, pausing as though savoring the moment. "This is hell."

"Hell?!" I shot to my feet, panic clawing at my throat. "No—this can’t—no! I haven’t done anything wrong!"

"You say that," it mused, words cutting through me. "But you don’t remember anything, do you?"

Its truth stopped me cold. My teeth clenched as realization set in—I couldn’t remember a thing.

Sinking back into the seat, I stared into the murky water. My reflection stared back: green eyes, and black hair hanging like curtains over my face. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as they clenched together.

"So," I muttered, barely above a whisper. "What’s going to happen to me?"

Ed chuckled softly, the sound dripping with malice. "You’ll pay for your sins, of course!"

"That’s not fair!" I shouted, desperation rising. "Why should I pay for something I don’t even remember? At least tell me what I’ve done—"

Its gaze locked onto me, and I crumpled. My knees hit the water as its face consumed my mind. Voices screamed within me as I gasped, my throat tightening.

"You think you can plead for fairness?" it hissed, leaning close. "You’ve been sent to the ninth circle five times already. If you want redemption, you’d better get it right this time."

Ed turned away, granting me a moment to breathe. My chest heaved as I clutched at my throat, desperate to regain control.

Though I had no memory of it, the mere mention of the ninth circle caused me to clutch my head in a panic, soft cries escaping my lips as I felt like I was going insane. My body raced a million miles a minute without the sweet release of death—a promised heart attack that never came. I was truly in hell.

"I see… the girl is still asleep," the creature muttered, its long, slender fingers wrapping around her shoulder and lightly shaking her awake.

"Where… am I?" she murmured, her eyes drifting toward the figure’s torso. She froze.

"Please, no need to fear me, my dear," it said in the soft voice I’d seemingly lost all privilege to hear. "I am Ed. Think of me as your guide to the afterlife."

"I assume your stay in the eighth circle was satisfactory?" It mused, its attempt at dark humor falling flat. She only looked confused by its words, her gaze drifting down to my pitiful state in the water below.

"Pay him no mind," Ed urged.

The girl blinked slowly, still disoriented, as if trying to make sense of the shifting reality around her. She rubbed her eyes, and the bruised ring around her neck seemed to pulse faintly, like an echo of some unseen force. Her gaze flickered between Ed and me, though her face remained strangely calm, untouched by the panic that gripped me.

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"What is this place?" she asked, her voice soft, tentative, yet somehow more composed than mine.

Ed smiled, an unsettling gesture that twisted the air with its coldness. "Ah, the question of the hour," he replied, his voice smooth like velvet. "This, my dear, is a train station—one you’ve all but missed, I suppose. You are in transit. Your final destination, however, depends on your choices."

A shiver ran through me, the sense of something watching—something always watching—gnawing at the edges of my mind. It was as if I could feel the weight of a thousand eyes piercing through me, observing me in this dismal limbo.

"But I don’t remember anything," I muttered, more to myself than to them, clinging to a fragile sliver of hope that this might all be a nightmare. "I didn’t—"

"You’ve forgotten," Ed interjected smoothly, his form shifting slightly in the dim light, rippling like a liquid shadow. "Forgetting is the first sign of being here. It’s a blessing, of sorts. The past is irrelevant.”

"Right now, you are you! Your true self! Pure, untainted!" His arms stretched out as if he were catching the ceiling above him in his mighty declaration. "And in this form, you shall suffer the extent of your sins! That! Is what we call redemption!"

The girl clutched her hands together softly, her eyebrows furrowed with worry. The sound of a steel door banged against the walls of the train. Ahead, a new path opened to us.

"Well then, seems like we’ve run out of time. I’ll take my leave~" he chirped. Before we could ask any more questions, Ed disappeared.

I groaned softly, sitting back on the chair just across from the young maiden.

"Well… what’s your name?" I asked, attempting to break the ice. Despite my efforts, she remained reserved, skeptical, and confused. I couldn’t blame her—this entire ordeal was a cluster of confusion and dread.

If what Ed said was true, I couldn’t die—or rather, I could die, but I’d just end up back here after eons of suffering. It only seemed like a blink of an eye now. My hands reached up to grip my black dress shirt, already stained with remnants of dried blood.

"Is this what’s at the end of eternity?" I thought. "A chance at… rebirth?"

"Emilia," she muttered, her gaze flicking toward me with poorly cobbled courage. It faltered quickly when our eyes met. Her gaze dropped to her hands. "I can’t remember my name, so… just call me Emilia."

I nodded with a soft smile, placing a hand on my chest as if to reassure her. "Right. Then please, call me…"

My mind went blank. I hadn’t expected to forget my own name as well. My hand fell onto my lap as I thought, causing Emilia to watch me with concern.

"Right—" I smiled, grinning from ear to ear, though the dark bags under my eyes did little to make me appear charming. "Call me Oliver."

"Oliver…" she whispered, testing the name on her tongue. A soft smile followed as she nodded.

My head turned back to the door that remained open, waiting for us to cross over. It bore no glimpse of what lay on the other side. Just thinking about the tortures awaiting us made me clench my fists in fear.

"That’s where we need to go… right?" Emilia’s words snapped me out of my thoughts. I hadn’t realized how fast my heart was pounding until she spoke. Forcing my hands to still, I let out a shaky nod.

"Yeah…" I sighed, standing and stretching toward the ceiling.

"What are you doing?" she asked, looking at me with confusion as I warmed up my limbs. Stretching wouldn’t do us any good if this wasn’t our actual body—but it felt right.

"Nothing," I muttered, walking to the door. My footsteps caused ripples in the stagnant water beneath me. I rested my hand on the doorframe. "I’ll head in now."

"H-hey, wait," Emilia called, causing me to turn with a puzzled expression. She stood and walked to the door beside me. "I don’t want to go in there alone."

"Understandable," I said with a soft smile. Together, we peered through the door. Hesitation lingered in our gazes, but determination remained.

Although…

If going through this suffering, this hardship—paying for the sins of my past—meant I could live another life, one filled with happiness, one of fulfillment… If all my past deeds could be erased from reality, along with my memories, then—

A warmth wrapped around my cold, trembling hand. I turned to see Emilia by my side, her brow furrowed with fear and uncertainty.

I’d rather go through it again and again—a million times if I had to. All for a better life.

"You ready?" I asked, gauging her reaction. Hesitantly, she nodded, squeezing my hand tighter for support. Together, we stepped toward the threshold.

"Three…" I began counting. Our hearts pounded furiously, beads of sweat rolling down my brow. Despite everything, the touch of her hand was the most comforting thing.

"Two—" Emilia closed her eyes, bracing herself.

"One!" Without giving us a moment to rethink, we stepped forward. Darkness encased our bodies. Behind us, the door remained open, showing the room we’d left behind. Ahead, there was nothing but a sign, illuminated under a spotlight.