Episode 20 - The Mobius Strip
This episode delves into the profound transformation of Jeremiah Cain, an assassin whose life is irrevocably altered during a fateful train journey. As he embarks on a routine contract to eliminate Susan Varnell, he finds himself ensnared in a mysterious and surreal station where reality appears to unravel. The oppressive atmosphere compels him to confront his past and the weight of the choices he has made, sparking an unprecedented feeling of empathy within him. In a moment of clarity amidst the chaos, he has the opportunity to choose a different path, one that diverges from the cold calculations of his profession. Ultimately, this narrative invites us to ponder the nature of existence and the potential for redemption, as Jeremiah grapples with the haunting question of whether his experience was merely a dream or a profound revelation from beyond the veil of reality.
A Möbius strip is a surface with only one side and one boundary, a fascinating object in topology (a branch of mathematics). It’s created by taking a rectangular strip of material, giving one end a half-twist (180 degrees), and then joining the ends together to form a loop. Unlike a regular loop (like a rubber band), which has an inside and an outside, the Möbius strip has just one continuous surface. If you trace a path along it, you’ll cover both “sides” without crossing an edge, eventually returning to your starting point.
In the context of the story, the Möbius strip was referenced to describe the train station’s impossible geometry, where Jeremiah’s attempts to escape always brought him back to the platform, mirroring the strip’s single-sided, looping nature. It evokes a sense of entrapment and disorientation, as the station defies normal spatial rules, much like a Möbius strip defies conventional surfaces.
Transcript
Imagine a world teetering on the edge of the familiar, a place where the fabric of the everyday begins to unravel, revealing glimpses of the extraordinary lurking beneath.
Speaker A:You're about to embark on a journey into the enigmatic, where the peculiar and the perplexing intertwine, where every tale twists the mind and tugs at the spirit.
Speaker A:It's a descent into the strange, the mysterious, and the unexplained.
Speaker A:This is when reality frays.
Speaker A:New episodes are published every Monday and Thursday, and when Reality Phrase is available everywhere, fine podcasts are found.
Speaker A:Before we move on, please hit that Follow or Subscribe button and turn on all reminders so you're alerted when new episodes are released.
Speaker A:Today's episode contains one story entitled the Mobius Strip.
Speaker A:It's the tale of an assassin who experiences something so profound on his way to a job that he decides to change the contract.
Speaker A:Now let's get to the story.
Speaker A:Meet a man who deals in death with with the precision of a surgeon and the heart of a machine.
Speaker A:His life is a series of contracts, each one a step further from the man he might have been.
Speaker A:Tonight, he boards a train bound for a routine job.
Speaker A:But this train will take him to a destination not found on any map, for Jeremiah Cain is about to step off at a station where the soul is weighed and the price of a life is measured in more than blood.
Speaker A:Welcome to a journey into the unknown in that place where reality frays.
Speaker A:Jeremiah Cain was a ghost in a world of the living, a man honed to a razor's edge by a life of calculated violence.
Speaker A:At 42, his existence was a ledger of contracts, each kill a transaction that left no trace on paper or his soul.
Speaker A:His hands were steady, his eyes cold, his heart a vault locked against remorse.
Speaker A:Tonight he sat in a half empty train compartment, just another face among the commuters heading home for the evening.
Speaker A:The overhead lights flickered, casting jagged shadows across his lean frame, his dark coat blending into the worn leather seat.
Speaker A:His phone screen glowed faintly, illuminating the sharp angles of his face as he studied the photo of his latest target.
Speaker A:Susan Varnell, 34, wife of Victor Varnell, a shipping magnate whose wealth was built on ruthlessness and ties to organized crime.
Speaker A:Susan's image was striking.
Speaker A:Warm brown eyes, a gentle smile tinged with a quiet sorrow that Jeremiah barely noted.
Speaker A:His job was eliminate her in a manner that couldn't come back on her husband and collect a six figure payment wired to an offshore account.
Speaker A:Why Victor wanted her gone was irrelevant.
Speaker A:Jeremiah didn't ask questions.
Speaker A:He memorized her face, the layout of the sprawling estate, her habits and routine.
Speaker A:This was just another job.
Speaker A:The train slowed, its brakes squealing softly.
Speaker A:Jeremiah glanced out the window, expecting the neon glow of West Bridge Station, his stop.
Speaker A:Instead, the platform was shrouded in a dense fog, the station sign unreadable, its letters blurred by the mist.
Speaker A: His watch read: Speaker A:He frowned, checking his phone.
Speaker A:No signal, not even a flicker of connection, but he had counted the stops since boarding and knew this was his destination.
Speaker A:He grabbed his duffel, its contents a minimalist arsenal, a silenced Beretta, a folding knife, a burner phone, and a few tools for Queen exits.
Speaker A:He stepped onto the platform, the fog immediately wreathing him in an embrace.
Speaker A:Cold bit through his coat, sharp and unyielding.
Speaker A:The train pulled away as he made his way across the platform.
Speaker A:Entering the station, he frowned in surprise.
Speaker A:The large space was silent as a tomb.
Speaker A:No ticket agents, no late night travelers, no janitors sweeping the floors.
Speaker A:The atmosphere was stuffy and there was an unnatural stillness, as if the world was holding its breath.
Speaker A:Fluorescent lights buzzed erratically, their flicker casting grotesque shadows.
Speaker A:Jeremiah's boots echoed loudly, the only sound.
Speaker A:He pulled out his phone again.
Speaker A:No bars, no wifi.
Speaker A:Nothing.
Speaker A:A payphone was mounted on the wall to his right, and he inserted a coin.
Speaker A:He dialed several numbers from memory, but each call rang endlessly.
Speaker A:His pulse quickened, a rare tremor of unease in his Jeremiah was no stranger to solitude.
Speaker A:He had stalked targets in deserts and jungles, even war zones, but this was different.
Speaker A:The station's silence felt primal, like it was a predator sizing him up.
Speaker A:He headed for the exit, double glass doors reflecting his silhouette.
Speaker A:Tall, lean eyes sharp with the focus of a hunter.
Speaker A:He pushed through, expecting a parking lot in the city beyond.
Speaker A:Instead, he stepped onto the platform, the same cracked concrete, the same flickering lights, the same suffocating fog.
Speaker A:His breath caught, a cold sweat prickling his neck.
Speaker A:This wasn't possible.
Speaker A:Unease coiling inside, he dashed across the platform and through the station, shoving the doors with more force than necessary, and again found himself on the platform.
Speaker A:His heart pounded, fear creeping in.
Speaker A:He tested other exits.
Speaker A:A side door marked Staff Only, a fire escape rusted with age, a chain link fence bordering the tracks.
Speaker A:Each time he emerged on the platform, as if the station were folding reality into a Mobius strip.
Speaker A:He climbed the fence, muscles straining, and dropped to the other side, only to land back where he started, the fence now behind him, mocking his effort.
Speaker A:Panic tightened his chest, a sensation he hadn't felt since his first kill, 20 years ago, when he had hesitated and nearly died.
Speaker A:Jeremiah forced it down.
Speaker A:He explored the station, searching for answers, a way out, anything to break the cycle.
Speaker A:The ticket counter was abandoned, papers scattered, train schedules, receipts.
Speaker A:A half written note cut off mid sentence, as if the writer had vanished.
Speaker A:A vending machine hummed faintly, the only sound in the otherwise silent station.
Speaker A:He smashed its glass with his elbow, hoping to trigger an alarm, a response, anything.
Speaker A:The crash echoed, then died, swallowed by the void.
Speaker A:He tore open a janitor's closet.
Speaker A:Brooms, mops, and a faint stench of decay, like something had died behind the walls.
Speaker A:He shouted into the payphone, his voice hoarse, demanding someone answer.
Speaker A:The ringing laughed back.
Speaker A:Relentless hours seemed to pass, though his watch never moved.
Speaker A:The silence grew heavier, almost suffocating.
Speaker A:Jeremiah's mind churned, conjuring explanations.
Speaker A:A drugged drink slipped into his coffee at the last stop.
Speaker A:A rival's trap, a mental breakdown.
Speaker A:But nothing fit.
Speaker A:He'd killed dozens without a flicker of guilt, his conscience buried deep.
Speaker A:Yet the station's impossibility assaulted his sanity.
Speaker A:Was he dead?
Speaker A:Was this hell?
Speaker A:The assassin in him scoffed, but the man in him, buried under years of blood, whispered doubts.
Speaker A:He sat on a bench, head in hands, sweat beating despite the cold.
Speaker A:His thoughts spiraled, memories of past kills surfacing unbidden.
Speaker A:Faces, screams, the weight of choices he had refused to feel.
Speaker A:The station was peeling him apart, layer by layer.
Speaker A:A distant rumble shattered the silence.
Speaker A:A train.
Speaker A:Jeremiah surged to his feet, adrenaline flooding his veins and drowning the dread.
Speaker A:He ran to the platform, the sound growing louder, a horn blaring like a beast in the fog.
Speaker A:Lights glowed around a curve in the tracks, and he sprinted toward them, hope flaring like a dying ember.
Speaker A:But as he reached the platform's edge, the train blasted by without slowing, its taillights almost instantly swallowed by the mist.
Speaker A:He cursed, fists clenched, his breath ragged, then froze.
Speaker A:A woman stood at the far end of the platform, her silhouette stark against the flickering lights.
Speaker A:Dark hair cascaded over a thin coat, her posture slumped, defeated.
Speaker A:Susan Varnell, his target.
Speaker A:Here in this impossible place.
Speaker A:Jeremiah's instinct was to act, to draw the Beretta and end her life here on the platform.
Speaker A:But his mind was too frayed.
Speaker A:The station had broken his rhythm.
Speaker A:He ignored her desperation, overriding his training.
Speaker A:He leapt onto the tracks, gravel crunching underfoot, and raced into the fog, chasing the rapidly fading sound of the train.
Speaker A:His lungs burned, his legs pumping as he rounded the curve, the station's lights receding behind him.
Speaker A:The tracks stretched endlessly, the fog thickening, but he pushed harder, driven by the need to escape.
Speaker A:The curve tightened, and then ahead in the fog, there was the platform.
Speaker A:The tracks looped back to the platform, the woman he had been hired to kill, standing in the lights.
Speaker A:He slowed to a stop, still in the tracks, suppressing the urge to scream in frustration.
Speaker A:Susan was still where he had last seen her, unmoving, with her gaze fixed on the horizon.
Speaker A:Her posture was heavy, and as if some weight of existence had crushed her spirit.
Speaker A:Jeremiah approached, his breath uneven, his mind struggling to make any sense of what was happening.
Speaker A:Her face was unmistakable, beautiful, yet haunted and even 50 yards away, he could see the sorrow she carried in her eyes.
Speaker A:She turned her head in his direction and their eyes locked for a moment.
Speaker A:In that time, a torrent of images crashed into his mind, unbidden and visceral.
Speaker A:Susan cowering as Victor's fist struck her cheek, her eye, her ribs and her stomach.
Speaker A:Blood ran from her lip.
Speaker A:Bruises bloomed purple across her arms and body.
Speaker A:Her ribs cracked from a fall down the stairs, her arm in a cast from being twisted too far.
Speaker A:Years of verbal venom eroding her soul.
Speaker A:Isolation, control and emotional torture.
Speaker A:And Victor's final betrayal, hiring Jeremiah to erase her, to discard her like a broken possession.
Speaker A:Only the images weren't visions.
Speaker A:They were her memories, now seared into his soul as if he had taken on her pain.
Speaker A:Jeremiah, who.
Speaker A:Who'd killed many, many times without hesitation, felt something shift inside him.
Speaker A:For the first time in his life, he felt empathy toward another human being.
Speaker A:A deafening horn blasted behind him, startling him back to the moment.
Speaker A:Headlights pierced the fog and the ground trembled as a train roared toward the platform.
Speaker A:Susan's eyes flicked to it, hollow and resolute.
Speaker A:She stepped closer to the edge, her body tensing, her intent clear.
Speaker A:She was going to jump.
Speaker A:Jeremiah's shout tore from his throat without conscious thought, raw and desperate.
Speaker A:It was a sound he didn't recognize as his own.
Speaker A:He ran harder than he had ever run, the train's roar drowning his thoughts.
Speaker A:Susan lifted a foot, inches from the drop to the tracks, her face calm, resigned.
Speaker A:The train was seconds away, its wheels screaming, the air vibrating with its force.
Speaker A:Jeremiah's lungs burned, but he didn't stop.
Speaker A:At the last possible instant, he dove, tackling her to the platform, their bodies crashing onto the concrete.
Speaker A:The train roared past, its wind tearing at his coat, the steel side inches from his feet.
Speaker A:Jeremiah jolted awake, gasping, his heart hammering against his ribs like a caged animal.
Speaker A:He was in the half empty train car, the clack of wheels steady, the world outside, a familiar blur of city lights A dream.
Speaker A:His hands trembled as he fumbled for his phone.
Speaker A:Susan's photo stared back at him, smiling, beautiful, her brown eyes radiating kindness beneath the sorrow.
Speaker A:The visions from the station lingered, as real as the gun in his duffel, as vivid as the scars on his hands, her bruises, her fear, Victor's cruelty.
Speaker A:It wasn't just a dream.
Speaker A:He got off at West Bridge Station, the platform bustling with late night travelers, students with backpacks, workers in rumpled suits, the hum of life grounding him in reality.
Speaker A:But normalcy felt wrong, like a mask over the truth he had seen.
Speaker A:He rented a car, a sleek black sedan, and drove through the city's rain slicked streets to the Varnell Estate, a sprawling mansion perched on a hill.
Speaker A:His contract was clear.
Speaker A:Kill Susan and stage it as an accident.
Speaker A:What that accident might look like was left up to him.
Speaker A:His heart rate slowed and smoothed out as he walked to the front door and rang the bell.
Speaker A:Susan answered, but her eyes held no recognition, only wariness.
Speaker A:Can I help you?
Speaker A:She asked, her voice soft, fragile, like glass about to shatter.
Speaker A:She wore a long sleeved silk blouse with a high collar, and her movements were careful, as if hiding bruises beneath the fabric.
Speaker A:Jeremiah pushed past her, ignoring her startled gasp, his boots silent on the marble floors.
Speaker A:The mansion reeked of wealth, crystal chandeliers casting prisms of light, mahogany paneling and art worth millions lining the walls.
Speaker A:He followed the layout he had memorized, moving like a predator through the halls, his senses sharp despite the weight in his chest.
Speaker A:Victor was in his study, a broad man with graying hair sipping whiskey at a desk cluttered with contracts and a laptop glowing with spreadsheets.
Speaker A:He looked up and his face clouded in anger.
Speaker A:What the hell are you doing here?
Speaker A:He barked.
Speaker A:It was set for last night, you idiot.
Speaker A:Jeremiah blinked, momentarily surprised.
Speaker A:He'd lost 24 hours in the train station.
Speaker A:It hadn't seemed like more than an hour.
Speaker A:Victor got to his feet, glowering at Jeremiah, who still hadn't spoken.
Speaker A:Deaf or stupid, which is it?
Speaker A:Victor barked, his face purpling in anger.
Speaker A:Jeremiah raised his silenced Beretta, the weight familiar, comforting.
Speaker A:Victor's eyes widened, then a single shot cleaned through his forehead.
Speaker A:The suppressor on the Beretta dulled the report of the gunshot to the point it wasn't heard outside the study with its heavy, solid maple doors.
Speaker A:Blood sprayed across the desk and onto the leather chair, staining the papers with patterns like an inkblot test.
Speaker A:Victor dropped lifeless, dead eyes squinting like he was still angry.
Speaker A:Jeremiah turned, retracing his steps through the mansion Susan stood in the hallway, frozen, her eyes darting to the study.
Speaker A:He met her gaze for a moment, but there was still no recognition in her eyes.
Speaker A:He was still a complete stranger.
Speaker A:He said nothing, his face unreadable, and walked out into the night.
Speaker A:The station was gone, but its echo lived in him, a weight heavier than any contract.
Speaker A:Susan's pain, Victor's cruelty.
Speaker A:The loop that had trapped him.
Speaker A:It had peeled back the layers of the man he'd become, exposing the boy he'd buried long ago.
Speaker A:Susan would live.
Speaker A:Victor wouldn't.
Speaker A:And Jeremiah the assassin was no longer a shadow.
Speaker A:He was a man who had seen too much to go back, carrying the station's truth like a scar on his soul.
Speaker A:But a question remains.
Speaker A:Was it all just a dream?
Speaker A:Or did Jeremiah receive a warning from a place where time and truth refused to let go?
Speaker A:That's it for this episode.
Speaker A:If you're enjoying the stories, please support the podcast by buying me a coffee.
Speaker A:The link is in the episode Show Notes, and I would greatly appreciate your support.
Speaker A:New episodes of the When Reality Phrase podcast are released every Monday and Thursday.
Speaker A:If you're enjoying the journey into the strange, the mysterious, and the unexplained, be sure to press that Follow or Subscribe button and turn on all reminders so you're alerted whenever an episode drops.
Speaker A:Until next time, thank you for listening to When Reality Frays.
