Phantom Recall

22 || fragments of remembrance

Get off at the next stop.

A simple goal, a straightforward task. Yet already has the mere thought of it begun to plants roots of distress inside my chest.

The knowledge I have of the border realm is scarce. Almost nonexistent, I would say. A mere conversation with Leon gave rise to the topic, but with little spoken on it. Truthfully I was too wrapped up in that little hit list of his to soak up every detail of what he spoke — but I recall the gist of it. The mentioning of the phantom beasts being drawn from this place, this realm.

To think that we would be preparing to step into the midst of it.

A part of me almost wants to stay behind on the train a little longer. So thank goodness for Noir and Iver, who both wait with their faces nearly pressed to the door waiting for it to open. Eager to leave, or perhaps more fearful to miss the chance to do so. All the while as the train rumbles along the tracks and the whistle blows, Noir holds the edge of my scarf between his fingers. A reminder to both him and myself that we hadn't been separated.

"How long do the doors stay open?" I ask, watching as Iver presses his hand up against the glass — opaque as glass could be. If we couldn't feel the movement of the train we would never know when we arrived at a station.

"Ten seconds exactly," Noir replies. "It's too easy to become distracted and lose track. This is necessary procedure."

"Sure, yeah, I wasn't about to argue with you, buddy..."

"I don't trust you."

Iver's breath fogs the glass for a moment, chilling the air even greater so than it was before. I can't see his face. Not even as a reflection. I'm left merely to stare at the back of his head — such a messy haircut, too, looking as though he had cut it himself blindfolded and with a pair of kitchen scissors.

"Neither of you," he goes on. He smooths the back of his hair — did he feel me staring at him?? "I've felt uneasy ever since you showed up. You're bad news, the both of you."

As things stand, I can't find it in myself to snap back at him. Noir and I did chase Skull into the spirit lounge, after all. Rather, I did. Iver probably only ran after us to make sure we didn't cause any more damage than we already had.

I hang my head in shame.

With not even the faintest warning, the doors in front of us fly open like a sprung mouse trap. Noir and Iver leap at the first opportunity. It all happens faster than I can blink. Noir drops his hand to grab mine, then yanks me out of the train before I can even form a word. By the time I spin around to look back into the car we exited it's long gone. Sped off down a set of tracks more shrouded in black mist than a theme park haunted house.

The three of us stop there on the platform together.

Upon initial inspection, this place in which we now find ourselves looks to be a normal train station. My attention is drawn by the metal benches lined up against the wall furthest from the tracks. Someone is sitting there. Their back hunched over, arms limp at their sides, neck bent forward so that their face is hidden from view... it could be nothing more than a corpse, for all I know. And I'm much too scared to go over to them and find out.

All of a sudden their body twitches. A pitiful whimper carries itself from their mouth to my ears, and the stranger moves to lie down on the bench.

I can't look away from them. My mind floods with questions. Why are they here? Why didn't they get on the train? What has them so distraught?

"Will."

A single blink and the stranger vanishes from the bench. My stomach churns. Noir begins to tug harder at my arm to win over my attention — and even with the force he uses, it takes some time. I have to strain every nerve just to look down at him.