The One-Way Ticket

Warning the following content contains mention of death and murder.

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By: Audrey Yeung

“You were there at the scene of the crime, is that right, sir?” Officer Jensen asked, holding his pencil above his notepad readily.

“No, not at the scene of the crime. But I met them at the train station.” I corrected, staring at the one-way mirror behind the Officer.

“Them?” Jensen repeated.

“The victim and the… the killer.” I gulped. It was hard for me to believe I had met a murderer and though there was not enough concrete evidence for me to make such a statement, I knew it was the killer who I met.

“Tell me everything that happened.” Jensen said. I nodded. I remembered exactly what had occurred that day as it wasn’t easy to forget such a memory.

It was around nine in the morning, five days ago and I was working behind the ticket booth just like any other day. I was counting the coins to give a customer their change when I noticed two strange people joining the rather short line leading to my booth.

The woman had very long raven hair that went down to her knees, which was no small feat as she was very tall and she was accompanied by a much shorter man with wispy brown hair and very pale skin. There were two people in front of the odd couple and while I issued the tickets to the other customers, my eyes always seemed to drift toward the pale man and tall woman. When they were at the front of the line, I could see them much clearer. The woman had very long eyelashes and deep red lips that seemed to shine unnaturally. The man looked fatigued and there were dark circles around his eyes. His shirt was covered in red and brown stains, like stains from spaghetti bolognese. I tried not to stare too much because it would have been awfully rude but it was hard not to.

They didn’t look like they were in a relationship, they didn’t look anything like siblings and whenever the woman glanced at the man she looked as if the man were a cockroach she wanted to eradicate.

“Two tickets, please,” the woman said. She spoke softly but I could tell if she spoke any louder, it would sound raspy like a snake. “To the Gravewell Village Station.”

I was surprised to hear this, as hardly anyone wanted to go to Gravewell Village because it was home to a large graveyard that was rumored to be haunted. My fingers drifted over to the ticket machine, getting ready to tap twice on the ‘two-way ticket’ option. Everybody who went to Gravewell Village would get a two-way ticket and I couldn’t blame them. I would want to get out of that horrible village as soon as I could.

“That will be two ‘two-way tickets’?” I asked, already expecting a ‘yes’.

“No. One ‘one-way ticket’ and one ‘two-way ticket’ please.” the woman answered, smiling a twisted smile.

I handed her the tickets and she glanced pointedly at the man. The man’s hands trembled slightly as he handed her a ratty brown wallet. The woman paid then turned around to leave the booth, keeping her long nails dug into the man’s shoulders. I watched them head toward the platform and shuddered when I saw the small knife tattoo on the back of the woman’s hand that was grasping the man’s shoulder, positioned so that the knife was pointing at the shoulder, glinting with malice.

The next day, I arrived at the train station to take my post earlier than usual because I wanted to see if the man or woman would return. I hoped it was the man who would return as I didn’t think a man as tired and nervous as him could possibly survive Gravewell. However, I had a feeling that the woman would have no problem staying in Gravewell with her long black hair, raspy voice and knife tattoo, it seemed she could fit right in. That day, neither of them returned. They did not return the next day either, but finally I saw one of them the third day since they had come. To my disappointment and worry, it was the woman who had returned and she looked excited. Her hair was wild and her twisted smile was back. Her clothes were stained like her unnatural red lipstick and as she left the train station, the small shiny knife tattoo was glimmering right at me.

“So that’s what happened.” I told Jensen. He nodded thoughtfully.

“And do you know what happened to the woman?” he asked. I shook my head truthfully.

“Do you know how the woman killed the man?” he asked again. A curious question, I thought, but I shook my head. “It was curious, see. Forensics showed it was a knife wound. But it was unlike any knife wound they’d ever seen. See, the knife cuts were very short. Short and sharp. Very short and very sharp. Unfortunately however, you know too much about this so I’ll show you exactly how those curious knife cuts came to be.” then Jensen smiled.

The same twisted maniacal smile I had seen before. Jensen rolled up his right sleeve and there it was, gleaming menacingly up at me, the vile knife tattoo stained with blood.

It was the last thing I ever saw again.