Jubilee Line

How could I even try,

Wilbur glared at the man as he stood up, grunting, and stumbled up to him. Looking Wilbur dead in the eyes and analyzing him up and down, he leaned back and chuckled, taking another sip of wine. "Well, that's even more interesting. . ." He mused and lifted a single eyebrow, "You have no idea who I am, do you?"

Wilbur looked at the man up and down. He was almost just as tall as him, but just short enough that Wil had to look slightly downwards to meet his eyes. He wore a grimy black suit that could have once been polished and a bright red tie. He had a wine-stained white undershirt and white cuffs on his sleeves. He looked like an average politician, but the strangest thing about him was that he had two horns, similar to that of a ram, protruding from the sides of his head. His ears were also down and triangular like a mountain sheep, and the pupils in his eyes were horizontal and slit.

At first glance, Wilbur would have guessed he was a ram hybrid, but despite his strange appearance, he didn't trigger anything from Wilbur's memory.

Wilbur shook his head and the man laughed an oily, strained laugh as he turned around and returned to his drinking corner. Sitting down on the floor and pouring himself another glass, he muttered, "You will soon." He swirled around his glass and shook it at Wilbur, the motion making the piercings in his ears jingle, "I did quite a number on your life." He lifted the glass to his lips.

Wilbur stepped forward and cleared his raw throat, "How did you get here?" He asked hoarsely.

The ram hybrid paused with the wine halfway to his mouth. "I died, just like you." He set the wine glass on the ground again and stood, "I'll give you a proper introduction," He stuck out one of his large hands, "My name is Jschlatt," He shrugged, "You can call me Schlatt for short. I suppose fresh starts are always nice, except that you'll remember the horrible things I've done pretty soon." He gave Wilbur a toothy grin.

Wilbur hesitantly shook his hand, "I'm Wilbur soot." He said.

The man smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "I know."

Will let go of his hand, "How long have you been here?" He asked and looked around at the atmosphere once more. Concrete walls. A thick, trapped feeling in the air. A long tube with a track running straight along one side, and both tunnels ending in impenetrable darkness.

Wilbur widened his eyes at the place, for the first time realizing what was to come.

An eternity in a place like this.

Schlatt slouched against the wall once more and took a sip of wine. Smacking his lips noisily, he said, "Probably a week or so." He gestured at the wall opposite the one that Wilbur ran into when chasing the train, but he didn't know why. Nothing was special about the wall. It was an average wall structured with rough black bricks, but the strange red fluorescent lights above them made it look like it was painted over with fresh blood.

Will walked over to it and traced his scarred fingers across the stones, "A week?" He whispered. Somehow it didn't seem true.
He whirled around and narrowed his eyes at the man who was still sipping alcohol. "No," Wilbur said and grinned, "No you died the same day I did."

Schlatt stopped and tilted his head at Wilbur and chuckled. Then he started to laugh, and he laughed and laughed for so long that he sounded like he might choke. Finally, he wiped his eyes and spoke, anger and grim humour twisting the expression on his face. "You think that this pain and suffering I've endured for so long isn't real? You think the days I've spent bashing at the stone walls and screaming up at the sky hoping someone will save me only really amounted to a few hours? Do you think I am that stupid to start losing my sanity after a few minutes, or has your amnesia done more damage to your brain than I thought?"

Wilbur felt his eyes narrow and his eyebrows draw together as he stared at the strange man. New images began to creep into his mind:

Jschlatt leaning against a wall in a very small room as many nameless faces surrounded him.

Someone pointing a crossbow at him.

Schlatt smashing his bottle of alcohol against a tall man with spiky orange hair and fox ears.

Wilbur's heart jumped when he saw the man with orange hair. Something was special about him, he just didn't know what.

He grasped his head as a fresh headache came throbbing through his mind and sending pulses into his ears. He grunted and looked at Schlatt through eyes refusing to shed tears.

"No." He said, simple and plain. "I'm right, and I have my tattered memories to prove it to myself."

Without waiting for a response, Will turned and scratched a single mark on the wall behind him. He then sat down against the wall and leaned back, resting his head uncomfortably on the rough stone.

And just as he closed his eyes, the light flickered into blackness.