Cars flickered through his vision, driving along the highway, reflecting the dim lights of the old petrol pump. A car pulled into the station; parking just out front of the ice machine. A man strode out of the car, slowly walking towards the front door.

Mathew blinked, his eyes finally coming into focus as he looked around in confusion. Somehow, the walls had changed from the bare concrete of the cell he had spent the past several hours in, now the familiar off-white walls of the gas station, including the bits of paint flaking off, hidden behind the counter.

A wave of dizziness swept over him. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hands on the counter to try and stabilise himself. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. He thought to himself.

Opening his eyes, he was greeted once again by the sight of the gas station. Is this a dream? Rearing his hand back, he slapped himself across the face with a resounding clap; receiving weird looks from the few customers in the store.

Ow. Not a dream. Rubbing his face, he looked around at his surroundings, still shocked and confused about how he got here. I was at the police station. I swear. I. I...

He felt a wave of pain as he tried to figure out how he got here. His mind felt completely blank, refusing to tell him how he could have possibly moved from behind bars back to the gas station in an instant.

“Excuse me, can you help me get that thing right there?” An aged voice called out, pulling him from his reverie.

The voice sent chills down his spine, as his head shot up to stare at the little old woman who was asking for help. His eyes went bloodshot, as ugly tears streamed down his face. No. No. How?

The woman’s face was one that had been forever seared into his memory. It haunted him every time he closed his eyes. He felt himself shutting down as he stared back at the old woman, overwhelmed by fear and guilt. He stepped back, crashing into the shelves behind him and sending packets of cigarettes crashing to the floor.

His vision swam as he felt like he was going to black out.

“Are you okay young man? Maybe you should sit down.” The old lady said, smiling at him gently.

He slumped to the floor, his vision flashing between her warm smile and the sight of her soaked in blood, clenching her stomach.

“Good morning, Mathew. I’m sure you have many questions you want to ask right now, but you don’t have a lot of time. Soon that thief will step through the door, and once again try and steal from the store. And much like last night, you can take action into your own hands. Your firearm has been returned to you, put back in its rightful place so that you can live through this moment again. But this time, you have a chance to redeem yourself. If you are willing to suffer the pain in their place, you can safely return back to the prison cell, knowing that you’ve redeemed yourself in the eyes of fate. But be warned, if the thief leaves before you have suffered enough, then this shall be your final resting place. Good luck.”

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Buddie’s voice drifted through the air, resounding in Mathew’s ears like the whispers of a demon.

What? Before he could fully comprehend just what he learned, another familiar face entered the station. A shifty looking man, scratching at the dark stubble on his chin as his eyes darted around the room.

He moved behind a shelf, blocking Mathew’s line of sight as he quietly slid a few things into his hoodie. He slowly browsed the shelves, casually making his way back into view while trying to not be too suspicious.

Mathew’s bloodshot eyes tracked the man, following him around the store. The old lady continued to call out to him, but received no response, as he was just too focused. What did he mean by that? I can’t redeem myself for what I’ve done, they’re already dead.

His head remained scattered as he watched the man slide things into his pockets, repeating the same actions that happened the night before, making him question if this was all some kind of guilt-ridden nightmare. Unknowingly, his hand slid down to the gun around his waist, hidden from sight by his shirt.

Everything seemed to freeze for a moment as the gun pointed directly at the thief. The customers stared at Mathew in shock, mixed with tinges of fear. Everything played out the same as it had the night before, except this time he didn’t pull the trigger.

Buddie’s words raced through his mind, the gun trembled in his hand, now finally under his conscious control. What should I do? His fingers froze on the trigger, fear and guilt making him unable to move. Their faces mixed with Buddie’s words caused a storm in his mind.

It’s just a dream, right? W-why do I feel like this? With teary, bloodshot eyes, he stared at the face of the thief, who was frozen out of fear. But Mathew knew it wouldn’t be long before the man bolted through the door to freedom. He felt an inkling in his gut that when that happened, he would never be able to see his family again.

Bang!

As if in slow motion, the bullet trailed through the air, making its way towards the chest of the thief as everyone watched on in horror.

Mathew felt his sternum explode as the bullet tore into the man’s chest. Looking down in shock, he watched as blood bloomed out from his chest, dying his shirt red. He almost fell to the ground out of sheer pain, the bullet having shattered his sternum, forming a bloody exit wound on his back and ending at the wall.

He felt a burning in his lungs as his vision swam, but somehow he managed to stay standing. Looking up, he found the thief to be, much to his surprise, perfectly fine, without any signs of having just been shot.

Gritting his teeth, he fired two more shots in rapid succession. One bullet shot through his arm, causing a guttural scream as it shattered the bone in his forearm. The second bullet hit him in the shoulder.

His entire body screamed in pain as he struggled to stay awake. His hand shook, almost dropping the gun. He watched despairingly as the thief ran for the door.

His vision swimming, he shakily tried to follow the man with the gun, and with one final burst of consciousness, pulled the trigger.

The bullet drilled into his stomach as he fell to the floor. The pain having overwhelmed him as his mind started to drift into unconsciousness.

“You can rest easy now. You have redeemed yourself with your actions and will now go back to live out the rest of your life in peace. Enjoy Heaven Mathew. Goodbye.”