Alexander Dockter thought he was safe after having escaped the trenches. He was wrong.
On its way to England, his ship is torpedoed by a german U-boat and he has to find his way up to the deck. But the rising water is not the only threat that lurks...
A-Deck was abandoned like the rest of the ship: Alexander fond himsefl in a sort of saloon, with fancy decorations, lots of plants and expensive furniture. The desks were still full of dishes and used ashtrays.
He saw a sign that said "Boat Deck" with a pointer indicating the direction. Alexander couldn't believe it. Had he really escaped these demons? Could he get out of here?
"Almost there, Alexander. Just a little bit more."
Where the hell did that came from? He looked around but, just as expected, no one was there. It didn't sound like one of his (un)dead platoon members. It almost sounded like the doctors voice in the recordings. But that couldn't be possible... could it?
Regardless, he ran and ran. So close to the boat deck. So close to safety. Alexander rushed around the corner and saw that the last part of the corridor was drenched in complete darkness.
He ran straight forward into the darkness. Soon he would be up on deck, get into the boat. To safety. Alexander swore himself that he would make amends for his sins. He would return to his parents farm and live a good and honest life and he would never again complain about the hard work. Yes, that's what he was going to do.
Everywhere around him, wherever he saw it was darkness. He couldn't even see his hand in front of him.
But he did hear music. Now where the hell did that come from...?
...
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"Alexander? Alexander, are you there?" the doctor asked. Alexander blinked several times and looked around him. He fond himself in a strange, white painted room that he had never seen before. He was sitting in a wheelchair and he could see a table and a windo in front of him. It was snowing outside. But that was impossible! Snow? In July?
The table was littered with relics of Alexanders military service, including his helmet and a photo of his platoon. A gramophone was also there, playing "I wish there was a wireless to heaven" by Irwing Kaufman. The doctor saw that Alexander was coming to and smiled. "Ah you're back. Now try to remember quite properly for me..."
That voice! It was the same one that Alexander heard in the recordings!
This was so confusing. "What... where am I? How long have I been here?" Alexander asked in a confused state. And his voice... it sounded so different. He wanted to run, he must be having another vison or something. But he was too weak to stand up. Why? Maybe because he had just ran through a giant ocean liner and was exhausted or maybe the doctors gave him a drug or something. He couldn't tell.
The doctor sighed. He was used to this by now, it was his daily routine. Like brushing teeth. He pointed to the relics on the desk and made sure that Alexanders gaze was fixed on it. "Lets get over this once more: This Second Life Act, Alexander. It was operated on you, Sir." he told his patient, totally ignoring the questions.
This confused Alexander even more now. How did he know about that? "I... I know. But why? The Second Life Act is supposed to revive dead soldiers, right? Did... did I die?"
The doctor smiled. "No, Sir. You are very much alive. They wanted to help you, Alexander."
Somehow, the doctors words made sense to Alexander. This was all feeling familiar to him. Did they had that same talk once before? "Yes... they wanted to help me." he said. "But... what about Davies and Thomspon? I saw them, didn't I?"
"Now listen, there were no spirits or souls out of the grave on your ship. It was just you." the doctor insisted.
Alexander felt relieved. So he wasn't on the ship anymore. "So... I made it? It's over?" he smiled. He was so happy to have gotten off that ship.
The doctor nodded. "They saved you, Alexander. You made it out. " He placed a hand on his shoulder. "You'll never have go through this again, you understand?"
"Yes... never... never again." It was to hard to keep his eyes open. He was just SO damn tired.
His doctor noticed it and patted his shoulder. "Rest your mind, Alexander. We'll speak again in the morning."
"Again?" Alexader thought as the doctor drove him away in his wheelchair. But he didn't ask, he was just so tired. And the music didn't help. Alexander closed his eyes and drifted off into sleep.
And he forgot.
He forgot about the conversation with the doctor.
He forgot about his rescue from the sinking RMS Validus.
And he forgot the chase through the ship by his undead platoon members.
When he opend his eyes again, Alexander was back in the ward aboard the RMS Validus. The torpedo had just struck the ship and they were escorting him in his wheelchair to an elevator.
Once more, they left him to die there when the elevator wasn't working. And once more he got up and began looking for a way out and up to the boat deck.
He was in hell. And this was his punishment: To relive this moment of his life over and over again.
