Raphael’s Plan

Zidane continued to speak as clear as day. As if reciting a life experience, which you could argue this was.

"Raphael spoke with a confidence that only God could manifest. He spoke of his future plans to dissect the cycle and find out what's keeping us tethered to it. The plans themselves, I've completely forgotten, but they involve you entirely. Without you, they all fall apart."

"Me…? I haven't got any power though. You must have the wrong person."

"Oh, contrary. You're the main piece. Raphael believes you hold the power to awaken people from the cycle."

Which, in an ideal reality, would be exciting to hear.

This isn't an ideal reality.

This isn't much of a 'reality' at all.

"Raphael truly believes you exist at the very central point of the phenomena. I know you're hesitant, Raph did explain you both had a rocky introduction, but this might be our only lead to finding any leads to how and why we're all in this predicament." 

Firstly; Raph? I was unaware we were all such good friends that we had nicknames.

Secondly, how many is in 'our' and 'we're'?

"Look, I'm fine with seeing him again, I just… I need time to compose myself. I have a lot to talk to him about." My mind races back to the VHS tape I saw at Sole Station. That, and the strange files I saw in the carriage that emulated my bedroom. 

"I have questions that need answers too." Zidane responds, "Some things just aren't making any sense." He follows, eyes drifting towards the ground in solemn thought. 

We both sit in a moment of silence as we both bask in the overcast sky denies the sun of its brilliance. Barely peeking through cracks in the wall that shields it from us.

He perks up almost instantly after. "No better time than the present, let's get going." 

Zidane took an ornate silver plate out of a messenger bag he kept underneath the bench he sat on, found a single glimmer of sunshine peering through the cracks in the clouds and deflected what little sunshine he could onto the clock tower of Heart Station. Since the park is somewhat close to it, the light just about hit the surface facing us. 

"Check this out." Zidane smirks.

Not long after, a black car had pulled over next to us. The window rolls down, and Raphael is in the passenger seat. One of his unnamed goons is driving the car. 

It's a nice car, don't get me wrong. A Bentley Armage 1999, pristine, clean, everything in between. We were prompted inside by Raphael. Zidane opened the door to the seat behind Raphael. I entered from behind the driver, and I am greeted by a voice I always hesitated to hear during this predicament.

"Brother." Marianne says from behind the driver, staring me down. "How was school?"

"Sister." I respond in kind. "School was the same as always."

"On that, we have something to talk about." She begins. "What the hell's up with everything?"

"'Everything' being?"

"Don't act funny. You are the only reason I thought the days kept going forward." She rants.

"C'mon, there must have been other signs." I exclaim. "Mum cooking the same breakfast over and over? Dinner being basically the same thing every night?"

"Do you even know who our parents are?"

"Right, right. What about school? Surely you noticed the lesson plans have all been the same every day?"

"Bro, I have been skipping school every day since the second time." She boldly presents. "It's always the same."

I understand. Sis is an overachiever, but when it comes to picking up on routines, she's absolutely clueless.

"You've been doing things differently though." She continues. "That's why I thought the days were all different."

"Winter never comes." I boldly diverge.

"And what a blessing that is." She praises. "To be honest, I should've picked up on it sooner. Dad never scolded me for asking for cash, and my girls have been doing the same jobs over and over again."

I don't say anything. She should've picked up on it a lot sooner.

"The food always sucks, there's never any sunshine…" she continues. 

Zidane says nothing, just lets her ramble, until Raphael interrupts.

"I do love a family reunion. We're not much farther from our destination, so maybe we take this to the meeting rooms."

The car slows to a crawl and stops at the compound. We each exit in popular fashion; not being kidnapped. 

We are led in single file into a corridor which accommodates at least six doors on each side. Raphael stops at the room on the right and opens the door for us.

We're greeted with someone vaguely familiar to me, but it appears to be a complete stranger to my sister. He stands up and looks directly at me.

"You look… vaguely familiar." He shoots.

"You also look vaguely familiar." I return. The man snaps his finger and points upward as if a divine revelation was achieved.

"You're the kook who wanted to get locked up! Oh boy am I glad you're here. You damn vanished from the cell block, and suddenly I'm living in June 7th ever since!" His tone goes from somewhat playful to somewhat aggravated.

"You've always been in June 7th, idiot." Maryanne remarks.

So this is Detective Wise Guy, back again. He takes a black leather glove off and holds out his hand to shake mine.

I take his hand and receive a handshake that felt somewhat intrusive.

"So, that's your game, eh?" He says, sneakily. I remove my hand, and he flexes his. "I've got a read on you, you're the same kook from before, no doubt. I just needed a confirmation."

Raphael places a hand on my shoulder. "Locke here can see your experiences by shaking your hand. It could also be skin contact, we're figuring it out." 

Suddenly I feel filthy.

Zidane takes a scarf out of his bag and wraps it around his neck, followed by a pair of leather gloves. 

Somehow, me and my sister feel underprepared.

"Take a seat, please, everyone, I have many revelations to talk about!" Raphael implores, getting ready for another grand monologue.

We all sit hesitantly, trying to avoid eye contact with Locke.

"Now, for formal introductions, as per routine. We have the Maribelle family," Raphael points directly at myself and my sister, "we have a mister Zidane Afrite," he moves his gesture towards Zidane, "and we have Locke Disci. A renowned detective. Any questions?"

I raise my hand.

"Mister Locke-" I start.

"Please. Detective Locke. I didn't go through hell to have the same title as my deadbeat dad." Locke finishes.

"Detective Locke. Last I saw you, you had no idea what was happening. What made you realise?" I ponder.

He pauses for a moment. "The cases were all the same for too long. After the twentieth time getting a call about a cat in a tree, I stopped showing up at work, started looking for answers."

"What did you find out so far?"

"Same shit you know, kid." He lights a cigarette, inhaling deeply and exhaling a long thick cloud of smoke. "Stuck in June 7th. Can't find a way out." He takes a second drag. He continues his routine as his gives up explaining more.

"Zidane, how did you figure it out?" I move along.

"I've lived here as long as I can remember, but I don't remember more than before the loop. Since then, I've figured it out on day seven. Things seemed too repetitive for my liking, and I don't believe in coincidences." Zidane recites as if rehearsing for weeks. I become skeptical for a moment, until.

"Well if you must know how Zidane fits into this," Raphael breaks the slight tension I created, we go way back. He and I met the same way we did. I escorted him here to find out what makes him connected."

"What did you find?" I inquire.

"Same shit you know. Nothing, and that we're all connected somehow." He pauses in immediate thought. "You guys are siblings, so that's sort of a connection. Hey, how would you like to stay the night for some experimentation?" He continues, a devilish look in his eyes. 

"I'd rather die the usual way." I respond in kind.

"Banter aside, I've found something interesting based on your recent trip to Heart Station, and assumedly, I'm involved too." 

"You're talking about the train trials, yeah?"

"Precisely. Originally an urban legend, you pursued it and went inside only to find ten trials, but what did you find?" 

"I found some VCR tapes and some traumatising experiences I'd like to forget." 

"Yes, yes, but what did you find out from the tapes?"

That's a good question.

What did I see on the tapes?

"It was a strange video rendition of an event that happened at Sole Station years ago. It was fuzzy, but it was kids recording themselves going down the stairs. It appeared to be after the cult rendered the place a haunted mess." I recite, prying the information from my memories.

"What was strange about it?" He pushes.

What was strange about it?

"The children talk about terms I'm not so familiar with, and then one of them supposedly dies, but there's no record of it in newspapers or by the station." 

"Strange, indeed."

"The children then died proceeding into the station." I proceed. "They're killed and eaten by mysterious black entities with tendrils."

"It was after this predicament that we all somehow gained some sort of power." Raphael continues. "I gained the power of projecting my thoughts and memories onto storage devices, and projecting pictures in my mind onto paper. Zidane here can manipulate spiders."

Zidane chokes on a glass of water he had accumulated over this conversation. 

"I don't manipulate spiders - I just tell them what to do and they listen to me." He reiterates. 

"We all are aware of Locke's ability. Maryanne has freakish strength as far as we understand, and you. What have you found out so far?"

"Literally nothing." I blurt out.

"Literally nothing? Are you even trying?" He sarcastically remarks.

"I only just found out about this hours ago, and you're expecting me to be a pro?" 

"I at least expect you to be a novice." He argues. "It's been forty-four cycles since we've gotten these and you've gotten nowhere fast."

"What's your point?" 

"My point is, you need to do more to assist in getting us out, so I'm going to send you somewhere tomorrow." He exclaims, as if he pays me. "Since you left that station, a tower has manifested in the middle of it. It's snuck itself in like it was always there, and I need you to investigate. I'm sending Marc and Locke to assist, because I know they're capable of keeping you alive."

"I'm going to die eventually." 

"And until then, I need you to go to that tower and investigate." He orders, as if he's my dad. 

"Whatever." I rebel, knowing full well I'm going to have to do this anyway. "Who's this Marc guy?"

"You were with him at the station. I sent him to assist you. He was there, right?" Raphael insists. 

Milli was there, but if this is a hip new way to find out someone's name, it's not cool. 

That means Marc is Milli. 

So long, super cool nickname.

Same goes for Detective Wise Guy. 

He's just Locke.

"Yeah, he 'assisted' me." I sarcastically retort.

"Fantastic!" Says Raphael as he claps his hands together in merriment. "New mission tomorrow, just investigate the tower, and don't stop till you're dead!" He sadistically continues.

"Why the hell was I brought here," Maryanne chimes, raising her hand, "this seems like a you-both thing." she follows, using said hand to point at me and Raphael respectively.

"You're here because I love a family reunion. How long has it been since you and your brother spent time like this? It's so nice to have some family bonding time since the weekend never comes." Raphael recites, as if performing a fool's role in a theatrical play.

"Please tell me you're shitting me." Maryanne reacts. "If you pulled me from my daily shit that I do just to fuck with me-" Maryanne punches the table in front of her, leaving a very sizeable crack in the surface.

"I pulled you from your daily shit to prove to you that it doesn't matter, and honestly never did." Raphael exclaims before he thinks for a second. "If it's any consolation, you can do your daily shit tomorrow, which will inevitably be today." 

Maryanne sighs before leaning back in her chair. 

"You wanted proof that none of this matters, here it is. We are the only sign of sentient life in this town." Raphael continues. "In fact, this mission tomorrow is actually to find out whether there's more people like us. The more we can discover, the sooner we can move on to tomorrow." 

We all nod in unison, understanding that in order to move on, we have to somehow move together. 

Zidane raises his gloved hand and speaks through the scarf that is so obnoxiously thick that covers his mouth alongside his neck. 

"What do I have to do?" He muffles.

"Zidane, I actually need you here with me. In fact, I need you every hour on the hour to check in to tell me how you're feeling and if any memories pop up. Locke, I need you for the rest of the day too. Cats in trees can wait." 

Raphael ceases and thinks for at least ten seconds.

"Both of you meet me in the room next door. On the right. You too." He gestures towards me also. 

We each leave, following orders under who appears to be our ticket out of here. 

We sit in silence in a room completely identical to the one we were just in, for about three minutes and fifty seconds. Then, we bear witness to the sound of chairs flying through walls, debris falling from the ceiling, concrete crumbling, shortly followed by the sound of a sister screaming. 

It seems the truth may have affected her the most. 

The door opens and Raphael ushers us out of the room.

"Don't mind the mess, I just allowed her a place to release her frustrations." He insists as we pass the room which used to have a door. In its place was only a doorway, accompanied by the outside light that appeared welcome in a place it shouldn't be. The table broken in more places than ever thought to be breakable. Half the chairs flung across the room, and the other half hanging from debris remaining from the ceiling.

From here, I am reminded to never get on her bad side.

We are led out of the corridor and back to the initial monitor room. As Locke and Zidane stay closer to the entrance to the hallway, Raphael leads me to the front door. Maryanne is somehow waiting for us outside, despite her being in the room ahead of us. It appears she just jumped through the ceiling using her own brute strength.

We enter the car parked out front that seemed to be awaiting our entrance. 

The car ride home seems so much longer than the ride there, and - as if mirroring home life - there wasn't much conversation, if any. Maryanne occasionally has a thought she wants to voice, and promptly ceased said thought. 

After a while, we finally return home. 

In the time since we left Raphael's, the sun had entirely gone down, giving entrance to the full moon that blessed the grounds below with flawless lunar light.

We exit the car, Maryanne's door closest to the front door. Before she gets too far, I call out to her.

I can't let this familial awkwardness get in the way of us finally being free.

"Maryanne." I announce.

"What?" She responds with a hostile demeanour.

"You know, you can speak to me." 

She appears puzzled, but ultimately finds her words.

"We're already speaking, dumbass." Her words cut like tiny daggers.

"I mean you can talk to me about anything, stupid. You're my sister, we're in this time loop shit together." I retort. 

She sighs as she fiddles with her keys. As she finally finds the correct key among what appears like twenty, we hear a very familiar voice from behind us.

"You two should have been home hours ago." Our mother informs us, creeping out from the darkness. 

"Mum!" Says Maryanne, her tone shifting like a flick of a switch.

"What were both of you doing out so late?" She ponders.

"Studying." I say, almost instinctually. As if lies come as easy as breathing air.

"My kids." She breaks us up by walking between us to open the door. "Who's up for pizza tonight?"