Love Forever

Dizzy's head and neck were killing her. She squint her eyes against the pain as it slowly woke her from whatever fever dream she'd been having. She couldn't remember any of the large details, just a man in a dark coat and luggage. Slowly, Dizzy opened one eye at a time, fearing the light that would undoubtedly be streaming from her bedroom window. The light was less harsh than she expected, it felt odd. She leaned against her elbow for a moment and noticed she wasn't where she expected. She fully sat up.

“What the...?” Dizzy looked around the room and found not her white coffee-stained desk or the pile of books she'd been meaning to read, but instead two benches that faced each other clad in patternless red velvet. She was covered with a coat she didn't recognize and slowly removed it from her legs. She put her pounding head in her hands as she moved to sit with her feet on the carpeted floor. Did she drink too much last night? She couldn't remember drinking anything.

She felt a thrum at her feet. Dizzy stood up, looked at the floor, and pressed her feet in different spots on the carpet.

Click. Shhh. Whir. Click. Shhh. Whir. Click. Shhh. Whir.

The thrum was consistent, she turned around and found herself looking through a window she hadn't noticed completely before. It wasn't the window she hadn't noticed, because she'd noticed the light streaming through it, but the movement behind it.

Rushing passed were blurry greenery and buildings she couldn't completely make out. Her brow furrowed, she was on a train. She didn't even live near a train. What was going on? She rubbed her hand on her neck, focusing on the movement behind that window. Dizzy couldn't recognize any of the buildings or signs, but it looked as if they were traveling through an old town with wooden billboards and thick lush forests. The train showed no signs of slowing, it didn't look as if the town was a stopping point.

“Wait.” Dizzy suddenly remembered that all of the modern trains had emergency pulls to stop! She looked up above the window and didn't see it so she looked for the doorway. Her hands felt along all of the walls in an effort to find some sort of pulley. She found none. Dizzy's heart began to pound as loudly as her head.

She needed to know how she got here. She needed to know exactly what was going on. Dizzy was always a well-planned person, she rarely drank alcohol, and when she did it wasn't to excess. Her friends always made fun of her for being too responsible! Had she been drugged? Yes, that must be it, she was drugged.

In a flurry, Dizzy began opening everything that could be opened in the small room. She started with the luggage compartments underneath the seats but they were empty. The coat rack was empty. She opened the compartment with luggage above where she'd awoken and found a small bag she recognized. It was her favorite pink overnight bag.

Dizzy found herself asking too many questions. There was too much unknown here. She pulled the bag down and dug through it, maybe a ticket stub was stuffed into the mess of clothing and toiletries. She'd even packed her favorite makeup. She knew she hadn't intended on staying the night anywhere last night, maybe Juliet had called and asked for a sleepover? That wasn't necessarily uncommon, though it hadn't happened in quite a few months.

Again, nothing.

Dizzy groaned in frustration and threw her bag onto the seat. She wiped her face with her hand in thought. There was a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach as she moved to the opposite side of the compartment. While she didn't want to snoop on someone else's belongings, she needed answers. She moved to the other side and searched the luggage compartment there. Nothing below the seating. But when she opened the compartment above the seating, she found a black briefcase. It shined in the bright light of the odd-colored sun.

Hesitantly, she pulled the briefcase from the compartment and placed it on the opposite seat. She sat down on the red velvet couch and stared at it for a long moment. Dizzy contemplated the implications on her character if she were to snoop through someone else's belongings! What if it was all a big mistake? What if she had gotten on the train? What if she was visiting her mother in Des Moines? She'd always wanted to ride a train. And she'd heard the train ride from Savannah, Georgia to Des Moines, Iowa was a good one. If not adventurous then at least comfortable and accommodating.

Were these seats considered comfortable? Dizzy ran her hand along the scratchy velvet and decided that, no, they weren't comfortable.

“Screw it.” Dizzy lunged at the shiny briefcase so that her knees were on the carpeted floor, and the clacking of the train vibrated through her body. She sat it on its side and fumbled with the awkward latches. They were glued shut. Dizzy pulled and pulled, but it did not budge. There was no lock she could see, but the latches would not move.

“What. The. Hell.” Dizzy exclaimed, but then there was a sudden click of the door. She scrambled to the other side of the compartment, her back against the window. Her green eyes bulged wide and she found herself breathing hard. She hadn't expected anyone to show up. She offered a sideways glance at the unopened briefcase and then her belongings, but there wasn't any time to clean anything before the door opened.

“Isadore.” The man tsked as he walked into the room. He was tall, though she couldn't tell exactly how tall from her seated position. His skin was deep brown, chocolate in color, and flawless. He almost glowed in the odd light. His hair was black in tightly coiled curls and lines shaved into each side of his head. His jawline was sharp, lips full, and he had an air about him that screamed confidence. If Dizzy weren't in such a predicament, he may have been conventionally attractive. What bothered her though, was that she didn't recognize this man, but he knew her name.

No one called her Isadore. Not even her mother.

“Where did you hear that name from?” She asked quietly, near a whisper.

He clicked his tongue, “So many questions, and yet that's the first one you ask?”

He was right, since she'd awoken on the runaway train she'd collected many more questions than she had answers.

“Where am I?”

“And she starts with the obvious. On a train.” The man stepped fully into the room and closed the door behind him. He straightened the cuffs of the long sleeve black shirt he wore, which tightly fit his frame tucked into black dress slacks. He took a seat next to the shiny briefcase and rest a hand on top of it, his shoes bore a striking resemblance of shininess to the briefcase, “Rude, going through people's belongings.”

Her heart skipped a beat, that was exactly how she'd felt when she'd done it. Rude. Alien.

“Why am I here?”

“Ahh, there it is. Better question. Because I want you to be.” He smiled a flash of perfect pearly white teeth beneath those full lips. He looked at her long and hard with those dark depths of eyes. She couldn't quite see his irises they were so dark. Her heart skipped a beat.

“Why?” She nearly cried, she choked back those tears, refusing to let them fall. He wouldn't get the satisfaction.

“Because you're just like everyone else. All the other women I've ever courted. I've ever loved.” He sneered, that handsome face twisted into something much darker and sinister.

“I don't even know you!” She yelled that time, as loud as she could, maybe if she made extra noise security or someone would come running.

“See, that's the problem. You're so engrossed in yourself you can't even remember how long we've been together!” He slammed his hand on the shiny briefcase.

“Together? We've never met!”

“Isadore!” The man growled, spittle spewed from his clenched jaw, “Stop. Lying.”

“I'm not.” She shook her head, “I'm not, I swear.”

The tears she held back spilled forth as fear made her shiver. She tried to steady herself by clutching the windowsill with a deathly grip. Her knuckles turned white, but no matter what comforting thought she imagined, she was scared.

“Then let me remind you. August twenty-second, two years ago. You worked in that quaint coffee shop, 'But First, Coffee.' You served me a black coffee in a penguin mug. You remember, right? ” His voice changed as he spoke, from the clear rage that wracked his facial expression to sheer, unadulterated, desperation. He seemed desperate for her to remember, but try as she might she just shook her head. Her jaw hung open, wordlessly. She couldn't even pretend to know what he was talking about. She'd only worked at that coffee shop for two months. No one had ever stood out much and the mugs were all weird. It was part of the gimmick.

“I can't-- I'm so sorry. I don't know you.”

The anger returned. He leaned back and blew air out of his nose, “Fine. You know, Isadore, I love you. I do, but you make me do... things I don't enjoy.” He clenched his fist and bit his thumb. He sighed.

The man moved to stand above her and extended his hand, an indicator she was to take it. Dizzy didn't want to find out what happened next. She had to run, had to do something, had to get out. Before the dark man could completely block the door, Dizzy barrel rushed forward. She pushed, hard, on the door, and with a snap, the door opened and she slammed into the train wall on the other side. She gathered her feet and looked over her shoulder. Briefly, she saw the unknown man's face colored in surprise. it didn't last long and he was turning around to follow her. Time seemed to slow as Dizzy scrambled to move toward what she thought was the beginning of the train, the conductor would be able to protect her!

Each car was connected, which seemed odd to her, but in her panic, she couldn't form solid thoughts on oddities. Everything about the train seemed odd. She didn't see any other people, there was no other noise other than the clacking of the train wheels on the rails, nothing. No subtle hushed talking, no whispers of consideration over sleepers in quarters, silence. She kept moving.

A pounding started behind her, so loud it drew her attention. When she turned she saw the dark man taking up the entire walkway space as he leisurely followed her from car to car. He pounded his fist against the side of the train and it reverberated so loudly. How could it sound so loud?

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“You can't run from me.” The dark man sang.

She paused to catch her breath before the final door. Her heart pounded with effort, exertion, and fear. She could taste it in the back of her throat. The pounding continued to the beat of her heart, was it still there, was he still coming? She opened the door to the front of the train, the final door, and no one was there. The train had no conductor.

Dizzy's brow furrowed. The dark man did not come. She searched the levers and buttons she could see and found them inaccessible. The lever did not move, the buttons did not press. She pounded on them with her closed fists. She screamed. She raged against the train. But nothing worked. She turned and prepared herself for the man coming through the door at any moment, she'd punch, she'd scream, she'd kick. Someone had to come to her rescue if she couldn't fight him off. She'd face him.

But he did not come. The thumping became just her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The silence crept into the space eerily. There were no footsteps behind the conductor's cabin door. There was no talking. No commotion to her screams of help, or pounding on the walls as she ran. There was nothing.

The young woman looked out the windowed area of the conductor's cabin and paused. The scream she felt bubble was suddenly trapped in her throat. Her mouth gaped open. Through the window was not the sun as she'd expected. It was not the lush forest. It was a giant dark brown eyeball. The man blinked into the conductor window before he slowly pulled away, revealing his face with a sinister smile. He chuckled lightly.

“I told you, you couldn't escape me.”

No emergency pull cord. Unopenable shiny briefcase. Plastic. No other passengers. No functioning levers or buttons. The lack of charcoal smell. It all came together, as if it had been so obvious.

"No, no!" Dizzy yelled out the window, but in the grand scheme of things, she barely made a sound over the Click. Shhh. Whir. of the toy train set.

The dark man watched as the train set toy circled again and again through the makeshift forest and quaint little wooden town spotlighted by the fanlight above. The yellow light bulb flickered. He wiped his hands together in triumph and moved to leave the room.

“Now I can love you forever.” He addressed her one last time before exiting the room and closing the door.