Repent

Chuck was stuck in a dream world. Literally. It was a punishment of sorts, a kind of limbo. It was enough to drive a person crazy. Walls weren't solid, whole locales could change in an instant, and he was surrounded by people who definitely shouldn't have been there. However, despite the eternal madness of it all, it did keep things interesting. Today, of course, was going to be no exception.

As the train rolled toward him, several inches above the track he noticed, Chuck could hear the revelry of a party happening inside. He sighed. His dreams were rarely nightmares, but nevertheless he wished he could wake up. Already he knew the routine. As unpredictable as things could get from one second to the next, it always followed the same basic road between point A and point B. Suddenly though, Chuck realized he was already on the train, and realized just as quickly, that things were not quite the same as usual. The air was a little too thick with the smoke of countless cigarettes, and the menagerie of voices seemed a little too real, too close. It definitely had the feeling of being a crowded restaurant, more so than in a dream. This was going to be interesting.

"Hello, Chuck. We're thrilled you could make it." The hauntingly familiar voice sounded less than thrilled actually, and Chuck could do little more than stare as the woman walked nearer. Now he was sure he was dreaming, regardless of the atmosphere, because the woman walking toward him, sarcastic smile plastered on her face, was dead. It's true she didn't look it at the moment, but Chuck had no doubt that she was. He had killed her.

"What's the matter with you? Cat got your tongue? Oh, I guess you're just surprised to see me. I can't say that I blame you there." Samantha let out a little laugh, the same laugh that had annoyed Chuck so badly when they were in school. The same laugh that pushed him over that edge. After a few moments, though, he regained his composure. Lord knows he'd had stranger dreams than this. Why let this unnerve him so much?

"Well, um, hello there." Chuck cleared his throat of the lingering uncertainty and fear, and continued on. "I'm not surprised. I'm used to these sorts of strange events. They hardly faze me anymore. As a matter of fact, I can even tell you what's going to happen here. We'll speak for a while, about nothing of any importance, and then you'll vanish. Or turn into my aunt. Weirs shit. In fact this very vehicle and all that's in it will cease to exist. Of course, it never really existed anyway, but you know what I mean. It's a pattern I'm very familiar with." The longer he spoke, the more confident he became, until his voice had a note of pure condescension to it. "And then I'll be rid of you all over again. Now, after that mouthful, whose tongue does the cat have?" Chuck stared triumphantly.

But to his surprise, Samantha did not disappear, as unwanted and confronted obstacles normally did in his dreams. Instead, she laughed again, and continued laughing, uncontrollably, for a while.

"Oh! Oh, Chuck!" she finally managed to spit out as she was catching her breath again. "You must not have read the fine print! Take a look around you here. Do you really think all this is a coincidence?"

For the first time since appearing on the train, Chuck took the time to really look around. Everything had the impression of being faintly familiar to him, from the music, to the furniture, to all the people. The people. That seemed to be the key. Slowly, something was coming back to him. These were other people he had seen before, had killed. Samantha was not the only one, simply the only one he had known personally. There was a long history here of his former self. The slight fear he had felt upon first seeing her returned; only now it was stronger, so much so that it was nearly crushing him.

"But...but I don't understand. What is this? What's going on? I don't know what fine print you're talking about. I'm serving my punishment and I don't know what all this is!" Without realizing it, Chuck had begun to cry. There was another distant memory trying to return and it was driving him into a panic.

"Oh, Chuck, I know you're not this stupid." Her voice got lower as she crept closer. "Do you really think that was your punishment? An utter lack of stability, an almost funhouse quality lack of reality, as an equivalent to people's lives, Chuck? That doesn't seem very fair, Chuck. It just doesn't seem like a punishment befitting the crime." Each time she said him name, it held more malice. Now she was standing right over him, and Chuck was just a whimpering ball on the floor, looking up. "When you finally decided you felt some guilt, and made your other-worldly deal for penance, did you really think it was over? That you had gotten away with it? And with no more punishment than a never ending world of dreams, punctuated by no sleep for the weary? I think not, Chuck. Your real punishment begins now."

She laughed again, and with dizzying speed Chuck's final lost memory came rushing back, and with it, the terrifying knowledge that she was right. Chuck was a changed man now, remorseful for what he had done in the past, but when he first felt that change coming, prison was the most feared place he could imagine. In his efforts to escape that, he struck a deal with something that was not quite human. Angel or demon, or maybe neither, he hadn't known and hadn't cared. It was a way out that defied all normal routes. But in his haste and excitement of that moment, he had overlooked one key point, the "fine print" of the deal. The dream-scapes were not eternal. Eventually, Chuck would be forced to face his sins, letting each of them choose a punishment that they saw fit, when they were ready. It seemed that day had come for him.

Without seeing a thing, Chuck stared straight ahead. He could feel the menacing circle of bodies growing tighter around him as the train plunged into a tunnel, and complete darkness. He had been granted one wish; a wish he would give anything to take back now. This was no dream.