The Executioner

Thirty

Some say Los Angeles Union Station is America’s last great railway station. Built in 1939 to consolidate passenger terminals from three different railways, the station still serves as a transit hub. Though its exterior is a successful merging of Spanish Mission, Moorish and Streamline Modern architectural styles, Los Angeles Union Station is best enjoyed from inside. It’s been carefully renovated, with original light fixtures, inlaid stone floors and tiled walls.

Beauty aside, the station is a constant hustle of passengers and tourists, but today it seemed busier than normal.

The girl ran as fast as she could, constantly swerving her body to avoid colliding with other commuters. People were coming from all directions, and everyone seemed to be in a hurry. After successfully negotiating her way around a large woman pushing a baby in a pram, she almost ran over a little girl in uniform, who seemed to have detached herself from her parents. By the time she reached the escalator going down to the station’s underground, she was puffing and sweating.

‘Excuse me, please,’ she called in a hurried voice as she squeezed her way through, skipping down the steps.

She saw the doors of the Red Line subway train closing as she stepped onto the platform.

‘Oh no, no!’

The train started to move away.

She dashed towards it, but she knew it was no good.

‘Late again… great,’ she whispered. ‘Just what I need.’

Her eyes searched for the noticeboard. At least fifteen minutes before the next Red Line service. Despite the departing train, the platform was still rammed.

Where the hell are all these people going today? she thought, looking around. Her eyes rested on an empty glass poster box and she caught a glimpse of her reflection. Her long dark brown hair was still neatly tied back in a ponytail, but beads of sweat had formed on her forehead, and her nose looked pink from a combination of the cold outside and her running effort. She desperately needed a makeup retouch.

The main floor was heaving with people. Tourists were noisily walking around, marveling at the many twinkling lights and shining baubles. She hadn’t even noticed the colorful Christmas decorations until now. They reminded her of her hometown and of her parents’ house. Places and people she’d do anything to forget. She checked her watch before making her way towards the ladies’ room at the far end of the hall. No hurry this time. A tall, skinny man carrying a red leather briefcase gave her a malicious smile and her whole body shuddered.

‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ a voice announced through the loudspeakers, ‘due to a signal failure in Pershing Square, there’ll be a five-minute delay to our next Red Line service. We apologize for the inconvenience.’

‘Fantastic,’ she murmured. ‘This just isn’t my day.’

Suddenly, she felt her chest tighten around her heart. A burning heat took over her body with incredible speed as her throat knotted, making it hard for her to breathe. The station started to spin. Her vision was invaded by tiny circles of light, but they quickly got bigger and brighter until all she could see was a blinding white light. And then it happened.

The bright light was replaced by grainy black and white images, like a short segment from an old movie. But what she saw was no classic.

‘Oh God, no.’ Her voice was drowning on tears. ‘Please, not again.’

The images played for only a few seconds, but it was enough to fill her with terrifying fear.

Her nose started bleeding. Something pirouetted inside her stomach, and she gagged on the bile as it surged into her mouth. She desperately needed to get to the ladies’ room.

‘Someone please help me.’ Her lips moved but no sound came out. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she fell to her knees as something erupted from her stomach. Right there, in the middle of the main floor of Los Angeles Union Station, she lost control and vomited.