Play@YSDC

Jonathan shoots one last glance at Charlie, then shakes his head and follows the others outside.

Charlie finds himself alone.....

A small and dark ante-chamber is built into the room from the front doors to keep the light from inside from spilling out. The curtain at one end has been thrown askew, revealing the door which is chained from the outside. The room itself is quite wide with scuffed floors and worn benches sitting back to back in the middle. More benches line the walls, with paintings of local scenes and nearby Plymouth adorning the brick above them. Naturally all of the windows beside the entrance door are covered in a heavy shroud of black cloth that blocks your view of the outside world and leaves you enclosed in this cozy little space.

The whole place feels quite warm and cheery due to the lovely big old fire burning on the other side of the building, flanked on either side by the ladies and the gentleman's restrooms. It's given an even toastier feeling because the whole room is bathed in a nice orange glow with very little competition - only one of the wall-mounted lamps is on and that's one of those nearest the door. There is a most peculiar odour of polish, cologne and saddlery, which might be caused by the pile of horse gear strung out over one of the benches which is most peculiar. A portrait of the British King holds pride of place above the fireplace.

The other doors here all have glass-frosted windows with black stencilling giving their labels. On the left are two doors (one broken inward and then mainly closed, though still hanging ajar) and a shuttered window. The labels read Station Master's Office (broken door) and Baggage Room where you can pay to store your baggage. On the right is a door to the restaurant. Near to that is a set of steps that head upwards to what would presumably be a few hotel rooms.

There is no sign of either Frank or the unconscious man.

Places to Go:

• Station Master's Office (broken open).
• Baggage Room (locked).
• Restaurant (locked).
• Ladies Restroom (unlocked).
• Gentlemen's Restroom (unlocked).
• Upstairs (accessible).
• Ladies Waiting Room (accessible).
• Platform (chained from the outside).

Credit Rating Knowledge,It really is quite all right to knock on the Station Master's office door and expect him to manage things for you.

Outdoorsman or Riding Knowledge,These high-quality saddles have been kept in very good condition despite also being well-used. They therefore belong to a keen and enthusiastic rider who nonetheless takes great care of his or her horses.

Law Knowledge,Allowing a chink of light to escape from the railway station would be grounds for a not-so-insignificant fine and some serious dressing down. Of course, one thing that should also be present are instructions to the nearest air raid shelter. There are no such signs in here. Hopefully there isn't an air raid before you manage to board the train.

Art or Art History Knowledge,The paintings are all local pieces of the sort made by ordinary landscape artists who have a neat skill with a paint brush but lack the sense of style that separates mundane painters from the masters. These paintings have been made by a half dozen different artists. Only one has signs of real style but something about the design work leaves you in mind of a painter who has used a skilful photograph as their subject and presumed the colouration. It is a haunting image of a sunset with brooding storm clouds above the flashes of colour with green grasses below.

Kate cautiously makes her way into the waiting room. "This is where I came in," she says. "I'm not sure where to go from here."

The man made sure the doors were shut behind them. "This place is constantly in flux. Things change with the passage of time perhaps because time passes more quickly outside of here than inside. Only some things get caught, trapped here with us. But there are things left behind in its construction, things that have an emotional resonance, that operate differently than you might expect."

"You mean like that saddle on the bench," says Kate. "It clearly belongs to someone who loves horses. Or that landscape over there." She points out the one with the sunset. "It's not like the others. It looks like it was made from a photograph, and the artist guessed at the colours - quite well, I think."

"Everything that stands out has a purpose, a reason, for standing out. The trick is to figure out why - is it something solid like what is written on the other side? Or does it tie together with something else to tell a broader story?"

"I didn't know there was writing on the other side," says Kate. Curious, she moves the painting to look at the back.

She finds a flowery handwriting upon the back of the painting:

Hidden behind the plates, the man doth run,
Hidden behind the cups, we run as well,
Our task is great and grand,
But will our sacrifice be without favour?

He promised me it was worth it.

"This looks like a riddle or a clue," says Kate. "Do you have any idea what this means? Maybe it's referring to the cups and plates in the kitchen."

"Honestly most of these clues sound like the subsconscious dribblings of a madman, which perhaps is a clue itself," he said with a sigh. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm merely a riddle here. Do I even exist? Or has someone dreamed me into being like the rest of this strangeness?" He gives her a pointed look. "And you ... can you be sure you even exist? Perhaps I stand here alone waxing lyrical to myself."

"I think, therefore I am...I think," says Kate. "I'm fairly sure you exist too, if that's any consolation."

"Strangely enough, it is," he said. "I've spent a long time pretending that the people who pass through here don't exist.... The sudden vanishings, the brutal homicides, it's all rather better to stay distant. But I think I will help you, for a little while." He smiles awkwardly, as though he can't quite remember how to do a real one, compared to the fake ones he's had plastered over his face before. "So ... cups and plates you say?"

"Yes, we need to look behind them," says Kate, smiling back. She hasn't forgotten how yet. "It's good not to be alone, and I'm glad of your company. Shall we check the kitchen?"

"That would require returning through to the restaurant and as that door is locked we would need to go through the platform," said the fellow. "I would rather suggest we find a stronger light source to beat back the darkness before we go through there. Unless you know your way around a locked door?"

"I can't pick the lock with my hairpin," says Kate. "At least one of the people who disappeared could do it, but they're not here now. I might be able to take the door off its hinges given the proper tools, but we haven't got those either. Shall we check the Baggage Room to see if we can find a light source?" She tries the door. "That's locked too. There is the Station Master's office, but it was dangerous earlier."

"What was in there before?" he asked, frowning. "And we could try upstairs. Sometimes things change and become revealed."

"There was butyric acid in the air before," says Kate. "I don't know if it's still there or not. It smells like rancid butter. I protected myself by putting on my gas mask, but I don't suppose you'd have been issued one if you've been here since the war started."

"Is it safe to enter if you have the mask on? I could wait out in the waiting room for you to come back."

"Yes, it's just bloody uncomfortable," says Kate, taking out her gas mask and strapping it on. "Anything else I should be looking for in there? I already sent a telegram to the Home Guard asking for help, but I don't know if it did any good."

"See if you can figure out anything of this station's history. Or better yet, find keys!"