Is it really my choice to interfere?
I mean, if I just go along with whatever PK and Mei do, I'll probably survive. But if I stay silent—
They'll die, won't they?
Before I even realized it, my right leg had started bouncing, the heel of my shoe tapping rhythmically against the metal floor. The nervous fidgeting gave me away, but I was too lost in thought to notice PK and Mei watching me with growing concern. Around us, the rest of the passengers had already crowded near the train doors, ready to step out.
["Stand clear. Doors opening. Please mind the gap."]
The train's voice was a hollow monotone, cold and indifferent.
"Wait—don't!" I shouted, springing up from my seat and thrusting my arm toward the group that had already begun stepping outside.
A man turned, scowling. "Why shouldn't I? I'm not staying locked up in here like some—"
"How do you know this is the right station?" I asked, already pushing past the rows of stiff-backed seats—two on either side of the aisle, threadbare and stained with time.
"What the hell are you on about, you fu—"
He never finished.
It started with a hiss. His unkempt brown hair sizzled, tiny droplets of some invisible liquid kissing his scalp. His angry expression froze, lips twitching as his face twisted in confusion and pain.
More droplets fell—one onto his shoulder. The fabric of his black suit crackled and dissolved as if devoured by acid. The stench of burning flesh filled the cabin.
Screams followed. One by one, those who had stepped into the rain began to melt—no, dissolve—right before our eyes, their skin bubbling, muscles searing, bodies twitching as if electrocuted.
They collapsed, steaming husks against the wet platform.
["Stand clear. Doors closing."]
The doors sealed shut with a metallic thunk, severing the sound of the storm outside. But even through the steel, we heard it—the steady downpour, and beneath it, a sickening sizzle, like cicadas shrieking in midsummer heat.
My stomach lurched. A weight like lead dropped inside me, dragging me down. My knees buckled, and I barely managed to stay upright by clutching a seat.
"Shit, shit… That blue-eyed guy was onto something? Huh? Yeah yeah yeah fuck!" someone muttered, breaking the silence. "Are we really gonna die in this goddamn train?"
It was a student in the middle row—long, shaggy red hair flowing around his face in a messy, alt-style wolfcut. His big rectangular glasses sat crooked on his nose, black rims cracked slightly at the corner. Gold and black studs lined his ears, glinting as he ran shaking fingers through his hair.
Of the original twenty passengers, only nine of us were left. Excluding me.
"Calm down," Mei said, stepping forward. "If we work together and test things methodically, we can find a pattern."
"She's right," PK added. "As long as we don't rush out blindly, we won't die."
The survivors gathered near the front seats, forming a small huddle. Whispers of theories filled the air, everyone avoiding the real topic—death. They all tried to focus on clues, on logic. I barely listened. Honestly, whatever Mei or PK decided was probably correct. My thoughts weren't needed.
["Announcement: There appears to be a missing item. If you have seen it or are in possession of it, please hand it over at the next station. The item: a set of blue eyes belonging to a female, aged above 18, brown-haired. Please present it at the next stop."]
Silence. Everyone froze. Eyes?
"Eyes?" Mei echoed, voice low. "There's only two people that match that description—Miss Yujin… and that man from earlier."
"Yeah," the redhead said, glancing toward Yujin. "Maybe it's a missing person case, not an item. I mean… who the hell loses a pair of eyes?"
Yujin stood out. Small, with dyed pale blond hair and bright blue eyes. She had mentioned earlier that she was, like me, British-Asian. The others murmured in uneasy agreement.
["Next station: Slothful Station. Disembark if Slothful Station is your destination."]
The white void outside gradually resolved into another station. It grew from a pinprick into a full platform—clean, modern, metropolitan. The ground, oddly enough, looked soft. Cushioned, like a sea of lilac and violet pillows.
["Stand clear. Doors opening. Please mind the gap."]
Yujin stepped toward the doors. Mei walked beside her, murmuring reassurances.
Then—
Mei's hand shot out and slammed Yujin's head against the sharp edge of the metal doorframe. The scream Yujin let out was raw and primal, distorted by pain. Before any of us could move, Mei was already digging her fingers into Yujin's eyes, prying them from the sockets.
Yujin screamed again—until she couldn't. Her eyes came free with a wet, sickening pop, still dangling by thin cords of sinew. With one last tug, Mei tore them loose and shoved Yujin out.
Yujin's body hit the cushioned platform and didn't bounce. It sank. Her blood left a crimson bloom on the lavender pillows.
Then, as if it were nothing, Mei stepped off the train after her. The platform didn't swallow her.
She stood firm, smiling.
["Stand clear. Doors closing."]
She turned, raised a hand, and waved.
At the group?
No—
At me.
Then she winked, and the doors sealed shut.
The station grew distant, shrinking into the void.