Pisces jerked awake to the rhythmic clatter of a train moving at full speed. The world around her was a blur, and it took a moment for her to realize she was on a train. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the compartment, and the muted hum of the engine vibrated through the seat beneath her. Her head throbbed, and as she raised a hand to her temple, she realized with a start that she had no idea how she got there.
She looked around, trying to grasp anything familiar. The compartment was small, with plush red seats and wood-paneled walls. A heavy velvet curtain covered the window to her left, and the only light came from an antique brass lamp overhead. Pisces’ heart began to race.
“Where am I?” she whispered to herself.
She checked her watch, a delicate silver piece she didn’t remember putting on. The time read 11:58 PM. Pisces frowned. The last thing she remembered was… was…
Nothing.
Panic surged through her veins. She didn’t even remember her name at first. But then it came to her, floating up through the fog in her mind—Pisces. Pisces… what? The last name was elusive, slipping through her mental grasp like sand through fingers.
“Okay, Pisces, get it together,” she muttered. She tried to stand, but her legs wobbled, and she collapsed back into the seat. Taking a deep breath, she scanned the compartment again, more carefully this time.
There was a newspaper on the seat opposite her, folded neatly. She reached for it, hoping for some clue. The headline screamed out at her: “Mystery of the Midnight Express—A Train to Nowhere?”
Her breath caught in her throat as she read the date—August 21st, 2016. That didn’t feel right. But why? What was supposed to happen on that day? She was sure it held some significance, but the reason eluded her.
The door to her compartment suddenly slid open with a soft whoosh, and a tall, thin man in a crisp conductor’s uniform stepped in. His face was shadowed under the brim of his cap, and his eyes were unreadable.
“Good evening, Miss,” he said in a voice as smooth as silk. “I see you’ve awakened. The next stop is approaching, and you’ll need to be ready.”
“Next stop?” Pisces asked, her voice trembling slightly. “Where am I? How did I get here?”
The conductor smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re on the Midnight Express, of course. As for how you got here, well, that’s something you’ll need to figure out for yourself. But you don’t have much time.”
“What do you mean?” Pisces demanded, rising to her feet despite the dizziness threatening to overtake her. “What’s going on?!”
The conductor tilted his head slightly, as if considering how much to say. “You have until the next stop to remember, Pisces. If you don’t… well, let’s just say you won’t be making it back home.”
Pisces’ heart pounded in her chest. “Remember what? What am I supposed to remember?”
But the conductor simply tipped his hat. “I’ve said too much already. Good luck, Pisces. Time is of the essence.”
With that, he turned on his heel and exited the compartment, the door sliding shut behind him with an ominous finality.
Pisces’ mind was a whirlwind. She glanced at her watch again—12:00 AM. How much time did she have? What was she supposed to remember? The anxiety bubbled up inside her, threatening to overwhelm her. But she couldn’t afford to panic. She had to think.
“Alright, focus,” she whispered, pacing the small compartment. “There has to be a clue, something to trigger my memory.”
She rifled through the pockets of the coat she didn’t recall wearing, hoping for some identifying object. She found a small, silver locket and opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a tiny photograph of a man she didn’t recognize and a date engraved on the opposite side—June 3rd, 2024. Two months ago. Was this the key?
“Who is he?” Pisces murmured, staring at the photograph. “And why can’t I remember?”
She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice the door sliding open again. When she looked up, a woman stood there, dressed in a flowing red gown that shimmered like liquid fire in the dim light. Her dark hair was pinned up in elaborate curls, and her lips curled into a sly smile as she looked at Pisces.
“Well, well, you’re awake,” the woman purred, stepping into the compartment with a cat-like grace. “I was beginning to think you’d sleep through the entire journey.”
“Who are you?” Pisces asked warily, stepping back against the window.
“A friend,” the woman said, though her tone suggested otherwise. “You can call me Scorpio. And you, my dear, are in quite a pickle.”
“Scorpio,” Pisces repeated, the name tasting foreign on her tongue. “Do you know what’s going on? Why am I here? Why can’t I remember anything?”
Scorpio chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Pisces’ spine. “Oh, I know everything, darling. But telling you would spoil the fun, wouldn’t it? Besides, you wouldn’t believe me if I did.”
“Try me, Ma’am,” Pisces snapped, more out of desperation than courage.
Scorpio’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Alright, here’s a little riddle for you: What’s fast as lightning, silent as the grave, and ends with a memory you didn’t save?”
Pisces blinked. “What?” she asked, utterly baffled.
Scorpio waved a hand dismissively. “Never mind. You’ve got bigger problems than solving riddles. You see, this train—this delightful Midnight Express—isn’t just any train. It’s a train of choices. And you, darling, have made some rather… unfortunate ones.”
“Choices?” Pisces repeated, trying to make sense of it all. “What choices? I don’t remember making any choices!”
“Ah, but that’s the point, isn’t it?” Scorpio said, her smile growing wider. “You don’t remember, and that’s why you’re here. But if you don’t figure it out soon, you’ll be stuck on this train forever. And trust me, it’s a very, very long ride.”
A cold dread settled in Pisces’ stomach. “What happens at the next stop?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Scorpio’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s just say it’s not a place you want to visit, darling. So, I’d get cracking on that memory problem if I were you.”
Pisces’ mind raced. What had Scorpio meant by choices? And what was this train, really? She was running out of time—whatever time she had left.
“You seem to know a lot,” Pisces said, eyeing Scorpio carefully. “Can you at least give me a hint? Something to help me remember?”
Scorpio tapped a finger to her lips, pretending to think. “Well, since you asked so nicely… let’s see. Sometimes, to move forward, you need to look back. There’s a reason you’re on this train, Pisces, and it’s something you’ve been avoiding for a while now.”
Pisces frowned. “Avoiding? What have I been avoiding?”
But Scorpio only smiled again, that mysterious, knowing smile. “That’s for you to figure out, darling. But don’t worry—I have faith in you. After all, you’ve made it this far, haven’t you?”
With that, she turned and sauntered out of the compartment, leaving Pisces alone with her thoughts.
Pisces’ hands trembled as she clutched the locket, staring at the photograph inside. Avoiding something… something important. But what?
She felt a surge of frustration. How was she supposed to solve this puzzle when she couldn’t even remember the pieces?
The train lurched, and she nearly lost her balance. She glanced at her watch—12:09 AM. Time was slipping away faster than she’d realized.
She closed her eyes, willing herself to remember. She forced herself to focus on the date in the locket—June 3rd, 2016. What had happened on that day?
Suddenly, a memory flickered to life. She was standing in a hospital room, the smell of antiseptic thick in the air. A man was lying in the bed, pale and unconscious, tubes and wires connecting him to various machines. It was the man from the photograph—the one in the locket.
Pisces gasped, the memory hitting her like a freight train. She remembered now. His name was Taurus. He was… her fiancé. They’d been engaged for almost a year. They were supposed to get married in September. But there had been an accident—a terrible car crash. Taurus had been driving, and Pisces had been in the passenger seat. She’d come out of it with just a few bruises, but Taurus…
She’d been so angry with him for driving so recklessly. She’d blamed him for the crash, for the way their lives had been torn apart. And when the doctors had told her that Taurus might never wake up, that he might remain in a coma forever…Pisces had walked away. She’d left him there in that hospital bed and hadn’t looked back.
Tears welled up in her eyes as the guilt crashed over her like a tidal wave. She had been avoiding the hospital, avoiding Taurus, avoiding the reality of what had happened. She hadn’t wanted to face it, to face the fact that she had abandoned the man she loved in his darkest hour.
“Oh my God,” Pisces whispered, her voice choked with emotion. “What have I done?”
The train lurched again, and Pisces felt a sudden, inexplicable urgency. She had to fix this. She had to make it right. But how?
The conductor’s words echoed in her mind: “You have until the next stop to remember.”
She remembered now. But was it too late?
As if in answer, the train began to slow, the wheels screeching against the tracks. Pisces’ heart pounded as she raced to the compartment door, flinging it open and stumbling into the narrow corridor. The train was coming to a stop, the lights flickering ominously.
She ran through the corridor, past empty compartments, her breath coming in ragged gasps. She didn’t know where she was going, but she had to find a way out, a way to make things right.
Finally, she reached the end of the train, where a heavy steel door loomed before her. She hesitated for only a second before yanking it open. A gust of cold wind hit her face as she stepped out onto the small platform at the rear of the train.
The train had stopped in the middle of a barren, fog-shrouded landscape. There was no station, no signs of life—just endless darkness stretching out in every direction.
Pisces’ heart sank. Was this it? Was she too late?
Suddenly, she heard a voice—soft and familiar. “Pisces.”
She turned, her breath catching in her throat. There, standing on the tracks, was Taurus. He looked just as he had in the photograph—tall, with tousled dark hair and those piercing blue eyes she had fallen in love with.
“Taurus,” she breathed, taking a step toward him. “Is it really you?”
He nodded, his expression somber. “You remember now, don’t you?”
Pisces’ eyes filled with tears as she nodded. “I’m so sorry, Taurus. I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have given up on you.”
Taurus smiled sadly. “It’s okay, Pisces. You were scared. But now you have a choice to make.”
“A choice?” Pisces echoed, confused.
Taurus nodded again. “You can stay here, with me. Or you can go back, and make things right. It’s up to you.”
Pisces’ heart ached as she looked at him, torn between the love she still felt for him and the guilt that had been eating away at her. She wanted nothing more than to be with him, to hold him and never let go. But she knew, deep down, that wasn’t what he wanted for her.
“I want to go back,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I want to make things right.”
Taurus’ smile softened, and he reached out to touch her cheek, his hand warm against her skin. “Then go, Pisces. Live your life. Be happy. And know that I’ll always love you.”
Pisces’ vision blurred with tears as she leaned in to kiss him one last time. “I love you, Taurus,” she whispered.
When she opened her eyes, Taurus was gone. The fog had lifted, and she found herself standing in a brightly lit hospital corridor, the hum of machinery filling the air. She was back—back where she was supposed to be.
Taking a deep breath, Pisces turned and walked down the corridor, her heart heavy but her resolve stronger than ever. She would make things right. She would visit Taurus, stay by his side, and never run away again.
And as she pushed open the door to his hospital room, she knew—no matter what the future held—she was finally ready to face it.
Pisces stepped into Taurus’ hospital room, the familiar beeping of monitors greeting her ears. The antiseptic scent she had grown to hate was still there, but it was no longer overwhelming. Instead, it served as a reminder of the reality she needed to face.
Taurus lay in the hospital bed, just as she remembered—still and pale, with his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The sight of him brought a fresh wave of emotion crashing over her, but this time, it was mixed with a determination she hadn’t felt before.
She approached his bedside slowly, taking in every detail. The faint stubble on his chin, the way his fingers twitched slightly as if grasping for something in his dreams. She had spent so much time avoiding this, drowning in her guilt, that she had forgotten how much she loved him.
Pisces reached out and gently took his hand in hers. It was warm, and the contact made her heart ache. She had feared that touching him would break her, but instead, it grounded her. She felt a connection she hadn’t expected—a silent promise that she wasn’t alone.
“I’m here, Taurus,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill over. “I’m not leaving you this time. I’m going to stay, and I’m going to fight for us. I’m sorry I was too afraid before, but I’m not afraid anymore.”
The room was quiet, the only sounds the rhythmic beeping of the machines and the occasional rustle of sheets as Taurus breathed. Pisces sat down in the chair beside his bed, still holding his hand, and closed her eyes. She didn’t know what the future would bring, but she was ready to face it.
Hours passed, though Pisces couldn’t be sure how many. The world outside the hospital room seemed distant and unimportant. Nurses came and went, checking on Taurus, adjusting the machines, offering Pisces gentle smiles, and soft words of comfort. But Pisces barely noticed. She was focused on Taurus, on the rise and fall of his chest, the small signs that he was still fighting.
She wasn’t sure when she drifted off to sleep, but when she woke up, the room was dim, the lights low. Her hand was still wrapped around Taurus’, and for a moment, she thought she felt a slight pressure—a squeeze, barely perceptible, but there.
Her heart skipped a beat. “Taurus?” she whispered, leaning forward, her eyes searching his face for any sign of change.
His eyes were still closed, his expression serene. But Pisces was certain she had felt it. “Taurus, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand,” she pleaded, her voice trembling with hope.
There was a long, agonizing pause, and then—ever so faintly—she felt it again. A slight, weak pressure, but it was there.
“Oh my God, Taurus,” Pisces gasped, tears of joy streaming down her face. “You’re here. You’re really here.”
She pressed the call button frantically, her heart racing. Within moments, a nurse rushed in, followed by a doctor. They moved quickly, checking Taurus’ vitals, shining a light into his eyes, speaking in low, urgent tones that Pisces couldn’t decipher.
She watched with bated breath, her hand never leaving Taurus’. The doctor looked up at her, his expression serious but tinged with something Pisces hadn’t seen before—hope.
“He’s responding,” the doctor said, and Pisces felt as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders. “It’s still early, and we need to monitor him closely, but this is a very good sign.”
Pisces nodded, barely able to speak. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
The doctor and nurse continued their work, and Pisces stood by, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and hope. She knew this was just the beginning, that there would be a long road ahead. But she was ready for it. She was ready to be there for Taurus, to support him, to fight for their future together.
When the medical staff finally stepped back, leaving her alone with Taurus once more, Pisces sat down beside him again, her heart filled with a quiet determination.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “No matter how long it takes, I’m going to be here. I’m going to help you wake up, and we’re going to get through this together.”
The hours passed in a blur, but Pisces never left his side. She talked to him, told him stories about their past, about the life they had planned together. She recounted their first date, the way he had made her laugh so hard she’d spilled her drink, the way his eyes had sparkled when he told her he loved her for the first time.
As she spoke, she felt a sense of peace settling over her, a quiet confidence that she was doing the right thing. She had been running for so long, but now she was here, facing her fears, and she knew—no matter what happened—she had made the right choice.
Days turned into weeks, and Pisces remained a constant presence by Taurus’ side. She worked with the doctors and nurses, learning how to care for him, how to help him regain his strength. It wasn’t easy—there were moments when the progress was slow, when she felt the weight of uncertainty pressing down on her. But she never gave up.
One day, as she sat by his side, holding his hand and reading aloud from a book they had both loved, she felt his fingers twitch again. This time, it wasn’t just a faint squeeze—it was stronger, more deliberate. Pisces’ heart leaped in her chest.
“Taurus?” she asked, her voice trembling with hope.
Slowly, as if it took all the effort in the world, Taurus’ eyes fluttered open. Pisces’ breath caught in her throat as she stared into his familiar blue eyes, now filled with confusion and fatigue.
“Pisces?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and barely audible.
Tears streamed down Pisces’ face as she smiled, her heart overflowing with joy and relief. “I’m here, Taurus. I’m right here.”
He blinked, his gaze focusing on her. “What… what happened?”
Pisces squeezed his hand gently, her smile never wavering. “It’s a long story. But the important thing is that you’re awake, and you’re going to be okay. We’re going to be okay.”
Taurus’ lips curved into a weak smile, and he nodded slowly. “I knew you’d come back,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet strength that made Pisces’ heart swell with love.
“I never should have left,” she said, her voice choked with emotion. “But I’m here now, and I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to get through this together.”
Taurus squeezed her hand again, his eyes shining with gratitude and love. “I love you, Pisces,” he murmured.
“I love you too,” she whispered back, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.
As the days went by, Taurus grew stronger, his recovery slow but steady. Pisces was with him every step of the way, her love and support unwavering. And as they faced the challenges ahead, they did so together, with a bond that had been tested and strengthened by the trials they had endured.
It wasn’t easy, but Pisces knew that nothing worth having ever was. She had faced her fears, confronted her guilt, and found the strength to fight for the man she loved. And in doing so, she had rediscovered herself, the woman who was brave enough to stay, to fight, to love without reservation.
As she sat beside Taurus, watching him sleep peacefully, Pisces felt a sense of contentment she hadn’t known in a long time. The future was still uncertain, but for the first time, she wasn’t afraid. She knew, without a doubt, that they would face whatever came their way—together.
And as the first light of dawn filtered through the window, casting a warm glow over the room, Pisces smiled, knowing that this was just the beginning of a new chapter in their lives—a chapter filled with hope, love, and the promise of a future they would build together.