r/OpenSpace

Chapter One:

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In a world filled with 25 billion people it’s hard to find room to think, breathe, and most importantly live. Choked by the presence of strangers everywhere you go; their touch, noise and smell engulfing you. It’s enough to make you lose your sense of yourself.

That’s why Caley relishes being alone! 

He lives in the only place where there is room anymore, high in the skies of a 46-square flat where he finds solace in his separation from people. Like a modern day hermit the high-rise he lives in is his mountain, with the foot of that mountain being his main source of succulence where he descends every morning and travels to work. He wakes up everyday at 5:00 am as if his body has a built in alarm clock, stretching his arms and legs the full length of his small single bed, grabbing the right-hand corner of the duvet and drawing it across himself like sliding shutters opening up to welcome the sun that ironically he never sees. He gets up and promptly folds his duvet back to its perfectly made position. It only took him a few steps to reach his bathroom where he analyses himself in the mirror, creating the perfect symmetry with his eyebrows and shaving away any unnecessary hair that’s on his face and body, leaving himself in a minimalistic state.

Caley as an UX designer saw everything as a muse and believed in the notion ‘less is more’, his flat was testament to this. Every item started off as a grey box in his mind and eventually implemented into a piece of furniture that would be better described as a landmark as they never moved from where they were first placed. The design was thought-out well in advance, everywhere had its place and space was maximised to give him a peaceful experience. 

Caley thought to himself every morning “It’s such a shame I have to leave my flat and go to work”.
He wanted nothing more than to stay in his safe-space and enjoy his own company but unfortunately, in the world he lives in everything comes at a cost. There is no more free land for hermits to live off, not even the homeless have a place to lay their heads. Footpaths are just that—a place to put your feet; with there being no room for heads, bums or any other body part, everything else is trampled on and crushed in the stampede of an endless rush hour. Everyone is busy either trying to get to work or mindless loiters around on the streets. There are no mountains, valleys or wide open areas anymore, such places were beginning to lose all meaning and were now known only to scholars. 

The world is one big concrete jungle with people filling every nook and cranny; this allows no space for cars, trucks or boats for the public. The only transport available were those small enough to carry one person; like bicycles and those big enough to carry masses of people; underground trains. Caley opted to use a bicycle to keep to himself as much as possible, headphones added to this creating an invisible protective bubble that no man, woman or child could enter. His journey because of this was often a peaceful one. He puts on the same playlist every time, and gets lost in the music with his thoughts successfully blocking out the external world. There is even a rare smile that occasionally makes itself known on his face, evolving from a flat line into something with a tiny pulse. 

Cycling, he rides past tens of thousands of people on his daily commute not hearing the drama of their lives or the unending expansion of buildings being built higher and higher, and filling the skies. Everything outside of himself is a muffled blur that doesn’t get his attention, and it’s not long until he arrives at work.

He finally reaches his office building. Every building looks just like the rest; grey, tall and smooth to the touch, with windows that get no direct sunshine but dim reflection of those staring out of it. All of the buildings compete with each other to be the tallest with them seemingly growing organically every year, and the more they rise the more the sky is out of sight. At the moment there is only a sliver of skyline to be seen, and past that people speculated it to be the open sky but they don’t dare look up. Looking up made you feel like doors to the sky were closing in on you — it was a feeling that left many in a panic, in a daze and ultimately it was something many brains couldn’t comprehend with the worst cases resulting in death.

Getting off his bicycle Caley sees, and feels the rush of people endlessly going past him. A six lane wide herd of people keeps him from the office doors. He makes his way through by dodging, weaving, ricocheting off people and zig-zagging his way to the entrance. He takes the office keys out of my pocket and glances at the watch on my wrist; it’s 7:22 am. He put the key in the door releasing the shutters that slowly open revealing a second door, he types in the passcode:

77223

The door unlocks, and he enters the building instinctively walking straight towards the elevator even before the automated lights come on. He presses the elevator button, calling it and the doors open slowly revealing a 5 foot wide, and 8 foot high space. He walks inside looking at himself in the mirror standing in the middle of the elevator relishing in the space he has around him.

By the elevator controls are a number of buttons that lead to various floors in the building; in total there are 88 floors, and the building itself stood at 2,071 ft high. It was an averaged sized building compared to those in the city. Caley pushes the button no.77 to reach his company’s office; Pinnacle. The floor rises from under his feet, and has the sensation of flying, the thoughts of birds fill his mind, and how he hasn’t seen one in such a long time but imagined what it would feel like to be in the open sky as a bird. For him, the space in the elevator and floating was akin to a free bird—he was very relaxed. 

“Birds have the whole world to fly in'', he thought.

Caley entered the 77th floor and walked into the open plan office. The office felt and looked like a scaled down version of outside. Every desk had a cubicle, and navigating to your desk was like walking through a labyrinth, if you didn’t know where you were going it was easy to get lost but Caley had worked at Pinnacle for 9 years and had always worked at the same desk, so finding it was simple. Walking through the office he inspects, and takes in each employee workspace, glancing at family pictures, plushie dolls, the overall layout, and occasionally drawing a penis on a sticky note, hiding it around their desk for his discrete amusement. They would never find it. 

Reaching his desk Caley sits down, and turns on his computer. He didn't come to work early to get a good head start on the day ahead or anything like that, he wasn’t as devoted as many would think to his job, even though the optics would suggest otherwise—it was a good ruse. He came in around 8:00 am to appreciate the calm before the storm. He relaxes like he would at home reading news articles on the internet, playing music out loud, and browsing Reddit. Despite being a recluse offline, online Caley had quite the following, he was captivating in his interactions. It was online where he let out all of his thoughts, and observations that had built up overtime. He followed a lot of subreddits that revealed to you the kind of person Caley was. He had his own account called u/Caley404 and on that account he wrote to his subreddit community called r/OpenSpace. On that subreddit page Caley had written:

“I just want to find another introvert to spend my life with?

Then I won’t have to go out as much. I don’t have to talk to their friends, and families as much. We can just sit in the same room, in silence, and do our own thing, and it’s not awkward. They won’t drain me with their energy. They won’t feel weird about me being too quiet. But it’s hard to find another introvert who wants to date another one. Most people I’ve met while dating are extroverts or introverts who prefer extroverts”.

This discussion resonated with followers on his subreddit:

u/JayJay: Couldn’t agree more. The problem is us introverts rarely put ourselves out there to find that special someone.

u/Ace: Someone should create a dating site for introverts. Maybe a fellow introvert by any chance?

u/Caley404: That would be amazing!!!

u/Fallsky: Why do I feel like introverts are rare? I’d like to find someone like this but where are you all ?

u/Caley404: On top of a mountain keeping to ourselves?!

Caley began to think about what it would be like to share what little space, and time he had with someone else. 

“That would leave me with even less time than I already had”, he thought. “Would it really be a nice thing like the other redditor's were pondering? Would that be something I would want?”.

His thoughts were disrupted, he stopped the music that was playing out loud  as he realised he was not alone in the office anymore, and didn’t want to draw attention to himself. It was 8:50 am, and employees had started to enter the office. He was on top of the world alone in the office but his colleagues entering changed that, it was like a window was opened at 2000 ft high, with 100 mph winds storming through and sweeping away all the calm that he had gathered. His colleagues were like mini tornados buzzing around the room begging for attention — he gave them none! Caley didn’t care for the ‘good mornings' of Mike or the ‘How’s your weekend been?’ from Tracey, who had a habit of using that as an ice breaker to talk about herself. All small talk was cancelled out by his music as he swiftly switched to his bluetooth headphones, and that’s how the rest of the day went — just like the others before it; Listening to music, avoiding unnecessary interactions, doing the odd bit of work here and there, whilst waiting for the hands on the clock face to tell him when it was time to leave. It was now 17:20 pm, Caley got ready to leave the office but the problem was the 10 minutes he saved himself to leave early wasn't enough to miss the oncoming elevator traffic. His desk was one of the furthest from the elevator, and as soon as he popped his head out of his cubicle it was like whack-a-mole, more heads popped up and down, ready to leave the office. Before he knew it everyone was standing ready to leave, and making their way towards the exit. Only 6 people could fit in the elevators at once. There were only 5 elevators, and there were 88 floors full of people trying to leave the building. Caley stood squashed between his colleagues seemingly calm but inside full of resentment.

“I hate you so much Gary’’ …”Don’t worry Lisa I hate you too”.

Lisa gave Caley a welcoming smile not aware of his burning hatred for her actions. She did nothing wrong, he just hated people for simply existing. Another colleague accidentally kicks the back of Caley’s foot. He doesn’t react outwardly but rages imagining his knee rising to a right angle and thrusting back jabbing it into whoever and whichever colleague was behind him. Not one to draw attention to himself Caley would never do or say anything and people knew this about him, as colleagues push past him he cowers inside his shyness but wishes to stick a leg out, and create a path of fallen bodies for him to walk over and reach his goal; the elevator. He felt the hot air of gossip at the back of his neck, he was losing it but thankfully, he had reached the elevator. It was now 18:03 pm, and he knows he just has to make it down the elevator with 5 people then it’s a plane cycling to his flat.

“Nothing happened in the elevator. It was rather pleasant”, Caley thought.

Normally there’s someone touching you, stepping on your toes, and encroaching in your space but there was none of that today. It almost filled him with a new found hope for society. Sometimes there’s a few loose cannons desperate to get in the elevator even when it's well-passed the maximum of 6 people. You hear some crazy stories about people in elevators on reddit. There’s one story that sticks with Caley, where 22 people squeezed into an elevator only meant to hold 10 people. The elevator ended up being stuck in between the 51st and 52nd floor which is 1200 ft high. There was no signal or reception, no one inside was able to contact anyone for help. Too concerned with going home no one heard their voices or physical pleas as they banged on the elevator doors for help. The mystery of this story is that no one knows the full story of what happened inside which makes it all the more creepy — it’s one of those stories that only has a beginning, an end but no middle:

u/Mike345 posts into R/ElevatorStories:

22 people from my work were trapped in an elevator overnight. No one knew they were in there. It took until the morning for someone to report to the maintenance team that the elevator was faulty. They thought the elevator was empty because there was no noise, and no one responded when the maintenance team called out. When they opened the doors the smell was the first sense to react. They didn’t know what the smell was but once they could see inside, it was clear. Everyone was either dead or had gone insane. Paralysed by fear they were unable to speak and some were unable to move. The ones that could move crawled towards the door like the living dead yearning to be free.

u/SpiceOright: Woah! Maybe they were claustrophobic? I heard if it’s severe enough people just panic, and die!

u/TopDoc: It actually happens more often than you think. There’s a section in your brain called the Amygdalae that processes fear. The smaller it is the worse you are at dealing with fear. Some people perceive their personal space to be where their arms extend to and others, mostly likely people who are claustrophobic, perceive it to be much further and struggle when that space is breached. This could be why their brains shut down.

u/Catfish420: That's mad!

u/TopDoc: There’s also no cure for Claustrophobia.

u/KnightRider: It’s actually an ongoing thing in society these days, people are just dropping off dead just from being overwhelmed.

u/Tobyno1: What a terrible way to go, easily could have been prevented — the world just sucks!

Thankfully Caley makes it to the ground floor with no one trying to overcrowd the elevator — he gets to his bicycle and makes his way towards the exit. The doors were kept open by the stream of people pushing through it and into an endless back and forth of people going past the building. He braces himself to plough through the crowd with the bull handles on his bicycle being the spear head. Evidently, he doesn't act fast enough and is pushed into the wave of people, but uses the momentum to mount his bicycle, and enter the narrow cycle lane, and proceeds to make his way home. He forgets to put on his headphones and is more distracted by his surroundings because of this. Caley looks at the people right and left of him seeing countless recognisable faces. They were faces similar to his own, they were in despair. He often felt like that these days, and remembers his days as a walker. The endless journey to an objective that as time passed was forgotten. If you weren’t staring at the back of someone’s head it was the same grey concrete buildings over, and over again, and if you looked up at the narrow strip of blue sky, that alone was enough to make you lose your sanity, making you feel 2 feet tall, in a daze, and leaving you to be eventually trampled on like a bug on the street. Caley shifted his attention forward, and away from the walkers, he didn’t need to fill his mind with their misery and instead tried to regain his focus. He was too late. He saw only a blur but knew it was a person, his brain told him to brake but a collision was unavoidable. He doesn’t know who he crashed into, all he knows is he’s on his back staring at the thin strip of sky, a rectangular sky which resembles an inverted building. 

His eyes, and mind were shaken. Did he hit his head? Or is it from looking up at the sky? Caley gets to his feet in a panic almost as soon as he realises he’s on the ground, and sees a man lying on the floor. 

“That must be who crossed the cycle lane, what an idiot”.

Caley’s head starts to feel wet.

“Raining at a time like this”.

He turns looking for his bicycle but all he can see is a horde of people making their way towards him like zombies, he takes a step back but is met with resistance before he can complete it, he turns in fear, and is face to face with a woman. 

“Are you okay honey? You’re bleeding”, she screams.

 It wasn’t raining at all, blood was dripping from his head. In a panic Caley tries to escape, he doesn’t care about his bike anymore, he feels uncomfortable, anxious, and only thinks of his survival as dozens upon dozens of hands reach out to him, layered like shark teeth — Caley feels himself being devoured.

“Sir, are you okay”…”here are your keys”…”Your bike”…”You’re bleeding”…”Let’s call an ambulance”…”Does he have claustrophobia”…”He looks scared”…”Is he going to die”…”Are these your headphones”…”Your bike is broken”.

The crowds make the situation known to his unconscious but Caley himself only perceives a number of people aggressively rushing towards him with their hands outstretched overwhelming his vision, he can’t think straight, all he sees are claw shaped fingers about to grab him, his instincts act, he disappears into the crowd, and starts to drifts along with the current of people. Going nowhere fast, and concussed by the collision Caley is carried down the street, down a staircase, and finds himself at a location he knows but would never choose to be; a tube station. Bond Street tube station. Now conscious, and fully aware of the pain in his head, the aches in his legs, and the fear in his mind Caley curls up within himself wanting to be untouched, and avoided.

Chapter Two:

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I let out a dyer scream that was unheard, and unable to break the attention of those on the tube. No one reacted, the scream might as well have been silence. Looking down I counted to 3 inhaled, paused and counted to 3 again. I tried to close my eyes but I felt the train turn upside down, and my head, and stomach traded places — I was starting to spin! I kept my eyes open, sometimes looking down, and occasionally looking up to see the faces of those engrossed in conversation. This seemed to be their natural habitat but to me they were a can of sardines relishing in the sweat of each other. I felt crippled by the presence of others, their pressure was unbearable, I had already been in an office surrounded by people, I needed to sit down — I am at my limit but it looks like an impossible task, the train was so busy! I didn’t want to sit down with these subway creatures but I needed to compose myself. The crown of my head feels wet again, I’m inside now so I won’t be fooled, I know it’s not raining. 

Am I still bleeding again? 

My heart is racing, before I thought it was the train moving but the vibrations were definitely rooted from within my chest. I raise my hand to feel my head contorting my arm, and wiggling it around the passengers next to me. A few drips land on my arm, the liquid is clear, I’m sweating, I wipe my forehead pushing away the cold sweats, I started to shake uncontrollably, sprinkling beads of sweat onto others. It was now like looking into a mirror, the sheer disgust I had on my face for them was now reciprocated. The train stops but I don’t. Still shaking, people get off the train, and only then is a seat free. I react first as if my life depended on it squirming, and falling onto the seat I slowly prompt myself upright. The train is still stationary but waits mere seconds before closing again. I sat down in those seconds and tried to regain my breath inhaling in, and out. The breathing helped but my calm was short-lived. In a matter of seconds people were lined up in front of me like magnets stuck together. They towered over me; I felt myself shrink into my seat, 2 inches tall and wishing for my seat to swallow me whole but in all of the mayhem I found a calming influence in something unexpected; a woman. 

I only saw her clearly for a moment then views of her were obscured by rows of people but with every sway of the tube I was able to get a glimpse. I took in the image of her an angelic long haired blonde, petite upper body and hourglass frame. I could still see flashes of her pale skin, and peachy lips through gaps in the crowd; through bits of hair, overarching noses, and outstretched arms holding onto the rails. I mentally took snapshots of her perfectly symmetrical face, her big perfectly round eyes and put them all together, piece by piece, completing this puzzling encounter — now I knew why I was calm. I found empathy in the small flashes I got of her. I’m unable to keep my eyes off her. I want you around me! This was something I had never thought about before. Curious, I want to explore this feeling more.

The train stopped, the doors opened, and the person next to me got up. Who even knows what he looked like, I was too fixated on her to notice. A gap in the crowd allowed me to see her in her entirety. She walked towards the seat but it felt like I was her true destination. I was desperate for her to make her way to me as I knew a seat on a tube never stays empty for long. In those milliseconds I had already thought of a million things I wanted to say to her. I felt her sit down next to me, I took a deep breath to compose myself, and turned to speak with her, shutting away my shyness, I said Hi. I’m Caley, nice to meet you.

In more ways than one my words did not reach her. The train had started running again, it was too loud for conversation, especially for me. I spoke but couldn’t break the sound of hundreds chatting at the same time, and two thousand miles of train track rattling. The other reason, the main reason my voice did not reach her was because she was not sitting there. To my surprise, and anguish sitting in her place was a grotesque man with a lazy eye looking too far to the left, his nose was in the shape of a scalene triangle, and fat, his head; pea shaped, and disproportionate to the rest of his body, his hair was glistening with sweat. The heat was radiating off him like burning fat, and what came with it was a rotten smell. Filled with rage I stared at the man and unaware to him his lazy eye stared back at me. I must have cursed him thousands of times before letting out an internal scream. I want the train to stop, I want fresh air, I want to be home. I visualised the train stopping, and let out another scream knowing I was far away from the next stop. In my mind the scream didn’t sound human but matched the screeches of the tube tracks clashing against the wheels. I stomp my foot to the ground. I’ve had enough. I don’t want all these ugly people around me. They need to disappear. I need to disappear. One of us needs to disappear!

Less is more. I repeated the phrase over, and over thinking; less people would mean more comfort, with fewer people I could get to work in peace, I wouldn’t have crashed my bike, and that girl who with one look was able to calm me even when surrounded by this madness would be sitting next to me right now. Ultimately I thought with less people there would be space! These thoughts had taken over my mind, and reached my lips. I began to mumble them out like an incantation. They had control over me, and now my body and for the first time I acted on my thoughts. 
I took a ballpoint pen out of my pocket and thrust it into the grotesque man’s too far left eye, rupturing his eye socket and piercing his brain. I drew the pen out of his face like I was finishing off an extravagant signature, I then thrust the pen in his chest. My anger gave me the strength to pierce his leathery dry skin. Blood was everywhere, and the look of terror travelled like a Mexican wave along the train. The screams were deafening. You could hear delirious cries overlapped with silence as the high pitched screams turned to white noise. Faces were animated yet frozen with terror; mouths wide open, and eyes open so wide their lids could no longer be seen. The blood was like a mist that engulfed the train masking the crime scene. I didn’t know if I had gone too far in killing him, all I knew is I saw red and now red it all I see.

Chapter Three:

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“Good Morning Britain. Bond Street Station, the attack that paralysed the capital. It’s a developing story, and we have more breaking news to come… Scientists have been looking into the effect of Claustrophobia as rates rise there is an increased need to find a cure; also, ahead of this morning, how high is the sky? Big Ben is about to get bigger as the government plans to increase the size of the tourist attraction. Now onto our main story where we have breaking news from the victims of Bond Street”.

DCI John Carry turns off the television.

“I’m tired of the media, all they are doing is messing up our investigation”, he tells his colleague DCI Sarah Tanner. “I agree sir” she replies.

The two of them walk into a meeting room to review the footage of the Bond Street murder. DCI John Carry takes a seat ready to listen to DCI Sarah Tanner’s overview of events. 

“Upon reviewing the footage, and witness statements of those we were able to ID at the crime scene, we have found eyewitness testimonies to be fragile. There is no footage from inside the train, meaning, there is no footage of the murder itself and as you can see here, as the train pulls up to Bond Street, the doors open. The passengers within the train mix with passengers on the platform making it very hard to distinguish one from the other. The sheer mass of people made it only possible for partial facial recognition. Since the passengers left the carriage the forensic team have widened the search parameter to the whole station”.

DCI John Carry thinks to himself gripping his chin as if trying to pull it off whilst tapping his pen on the table.

“You can’t blame them for running for their lives but if only they stayed in the carriage we would have been able to narrow down suspects”, The Detective pondered, “At the very least no one on the platform was stupid enough when face to face with a corpse to go near it”.

The sight of the dead man bleeding from his eye socket, the ghastly smell streaming from his pores, and blood pouring and spewing out of both natural, and man made holes on his body were enough to freeze everyone stiff and repel them from entering the carriage, but with the platform over populated and passengers frantically leaving the carriage because of the very real threat to their lives, a new disaster was created. 

Detective Sarah Tanner fast forwards the footage to the moment the carriage doors open:

“They pushed and pulled each other, many fell and were trampled on leading to both minor, and serious to fatal injuries. The unlucky ones fell between the tracks, and lost their lives once the tube took off”.

“Jesus”, DCI John Carry gasped. 

The passengers were blended together like fruit in a juicer with their clothes dyed red. DCI John Carry shakes his head, his eyes glued themselves to the footage with his mind trying to make sense of what he is seeing. He looked on as human bodies were pulsated into unrecognisable bits of flesh and liquid, with no prejudice between skin and cloth, both were ripped from the bone showing the soft underbelly of the victims as they cried for their mothers and weeped for their religions until they no longer had the means to do so. The ones that could were half churned with their limbs halting the train but still the screeches continued. The driver, unaware of what was happening, tried to up the gears and accelerate but the train did not move, he only succeeded in torturing and merging limbs, track and wheels together. Looking at the footage the Detectives could only think of it as a scene from hell. The Detectives paused. The footage was too much; they gave themselves a brief moment of silence before continuing. 

DCI Sarah Tanner continued her report, “It took 40 minutes for the police to arrive at the scene of the crime. The time of arrival was 21:17 pm. When the police officers arrived they cordoned off the area from Marble Arch to Oxford Street. No members of the public entered Bond Street Station at that time. As you know officers, and myself arrived at 21:38 pm with the crime scene investigators, and forensic team arriving soon after”.

“Tanner ‘’, DCI John Carry said inquisitively “do we know how the press got a hold of footage from inside of the incident?”.

She did not. The news showed victims in terror, shaken, drenched in blood, and in tears. The Paramedics tried their best to care for them. They assessed the situation, moving victims that had been seen too, to another location away from the trauma. The victims' cries echoed underground reaching the surface, acting as a deterrent for people to enter. The bellowing left an impression on those above, they knew something serious had happened but after hearing those sounds not even curious minds attempted to approach the tube station. It was an orchestra of cries that lasted for hours. The victims wiped their tears from their haggard faces but the red blood would not wash away, there was so much blood it could only be smeared — It was all over the platform. Eyes red, and blood shot, blood was all the victims knew in that moment. Before this all happened they would walk on platforms being mindful not to step on anyone’s toes, and being careful not to kick, or tread on anyone's ankles. Not much had changed but now there were more body parts they had to be mindful of. The Pandemics guided them past the endless bits of flesh and organs; they needed to watch out for long, and short intestines that seemed to slither along the ground like snakes, chopped and crushed limbs, and marshmallow sized chunks of brain and organs. The eyeballs were the worst — they looked back at you, showcasing their final moments in their dilated and dead pupils. 

One person in particular was more shaken than the rest. He stood out because he didn’t react like everyone else. He was one of the last victims to be seen, they found him in the carriage of the first victim. His eyes were lifeless but had a smile full of life and was covered in way more blood than the others — he seemed broken. It was a Paramedic that first spotted him. Shocked and bemused they wondered why he didn't leave the carriage like the rest of the passengers. They could see he was mentality in a bad way — to be left alone in the carriage flooded with blood and face to face with a dead body, that had to be the case. The two Paramedics approached him with care, and explained the situation to him. 

“It’s okay, there’s been an incident on the train but we are here to help you, and will take you somewhere safe, you don't have to worry now”.

There was no reply back. He was unresponsive. Upon hearing that one of the Paramedics went to get another body bag instinctively, as that was the theme of the day. His colleague stopped him — he wasn't dead. He was just very calm and very still. It was eerie how calm he was; his eyes didn’t react to seeing them, he didn’t respond to anything they said to him. The Paramedic picked up his arm and held his wrist checking for a pulse, there was one but his limbs were so limp. They checked his body for identification but he had none on him, no keys, no wallet — nothing but a mobile with a cracked screen that they were unable to access. 

They tagged him as John Doe, and he was taken to hospital.

It took the police a long time to get to the crime scene so they weren’t able to stop everyone from entering the tube station. Footage of the incident was all over social media. The police were desperate to censor the images and stop misinformation that was spreading. Passengers from other stations were able to make their way onto the blood drenched platform of Bond Street via other stations. After seeing the footage there was a public outcry for the government to make a plan of action, and address the public on how they will prevent a disaster like this happening again. The world felt sorry for the victims, it was a tragedy that could have happened anywhere at any time. Reform was needed.

r/OpenSpace reddit community:

U/dangerZone: I was at Bond Street Station when it happened. I was able to get footage, take a look:
The video showed a man in the reflection of the train window opposite the dead body. He was on the floor covered in blood. The redditors commented on the video.

u/ JamieLee : I can’t believe there was a murder just like that.

u/ CNico: Imagine going to go on the train, and seeing a dead body. I’d puke.

u/ SpaceCat: He does look weirdly at peace though. Despite the blood gushing from his eye. That’s probably the most freedom anyone has ever had on a train.

u/ Hayat: There’s too many people around for us to have peace like that. Bit gross that this is what it's come to!

u/ Helmei: Am I the only one that can see the beauty in this?!

u/ SvenH: I’d kill to have a carriage to myself. Lucky guy!

u/ Boonie: I wouldn’t want to die for peace though, how could you enjoy it?

u/ FizzeeRascal: I would pretty much do anything for a seat on the train.

Intrigued by the conversation being had on r/OpenSpace, U/Caley404 started a new discussion:

Would you kill for space?

What do you want more than anything? Peace, freedom, to belong? The peace-of-mind to hear your own thoughts, the freedom to think, and travel where you want without being confined — forced into a mixing pot of human depression. We deserve to feel the cool breeze of  nature, and not the hot breaths of people, and the cold embrace of concrete. I want our personal space to be our own, to be extended, and not suffocated. This is the world I want and honestly, I can’t say I wouldn’t kill for that.

u/TamTam: I agree there needs to be a structural change to the way people live today, I can’t go on like this.

u/ Sarah101: I would probably kill for that. People are dying anyway from overcrowding, what’s one more person if it brings about true space.

u/ LayeredOnion: The death of that person on Bond Street actually made a difference. I can feel it.

u/ KoffeeKing: I don’t care what you say, yes there needs to be change but murder isn’t the answer.

u/ IfOnly: What’s one sacrifice for global change? He’s a martyr to me! 

u/ DanH: If anything the murder has got people thinking about things.

u/ MisFit: I feel myself stagnating, and longing to be alone. I can relate to the need for space. Would I end someone else’s life to save my own?! I don’t know… Maybe if push came to shove. Let's hope things don't get to that.

u/ CocoPops: I would love for there to be less people. What pisses me off is those damn skyscrapers. No need for them if there were less people.

u/ SOPHisticated: Nah, this is something I can believe in.

There were over 150 thousand people in the R/OpenSpace reddit community making their opinions known, and 4 times as many reading the thread. They all left the chat pondering the question led by u/Caley404, “Would you kill for space?”. Who is right? What is wrong? Many already knew their answer. It wasn’t something they had to think too hard about because it had already been on their minds. They told themselves it was tongue in cheek but in every joke there is a little bit of truth. It was no joke that society was overcrowded. Each individual because of this craved for their own remanence of space; they wanted everyone who interrupted that to be gone. They had all wished for it to happen. They just needed someone to act first, a trailblazer. One that will spark the first light so the world they knew would burn anew.

The world began to burn! 

There's a state of panic! Murders are now happening all over the world; in very public places, in the morning, in the afternoon, at night — where and when didn't matter. There was no commonality with the victims, there was no pattern or prejudice to the murders. Governments didn’t know how to prevent them from happening, they had no answers and citizens were in a craze. Everyone knew at any moment, at any given time, their time could be up. The stress grew, and grew as the death toll went up. It was now seen as not a singular act but a pandemic that the whole world had to deal with. Society turned lawless, and no one wanted to leave the safety of their home. It became clear to the police that there was not one face to these murders but many, there were either multiple copycat killers or it was the act of a large scale group. The police decided to interview victims
from the first attack in the hope of getting more information.

Chapter Four:

◆ ◆ ◆

Alone in a room; me, three chairs, a table, and four walls. You would think I would be relaxed but I was brought here against my will. With the martyr killings, and fear exasperated by the media the city has been empty, and that emptiness has left my glass not half full or half empty but filled to the brim. I’m glad no one is around. I find myself being more than who I was; I am no longer controlled by external situations — I feel free, I feel like a bird. I do what I want now. I am the architect of my life but right now I am here in this small room. A place I don’t want to be — caged, again!

The investigation room opens. Within it is a man; clean shaven, well-dressed with a very symmetrical face. The Detectives walk in; DCI John Carry, and DCI Sarah Tanner, they close the door behind them, and proceed, sitting opposite the man of interest. The room is very small, it was only 48 square feet in space. The Detectives had a lot of questions for this man, their thoughts filled the room - it was time for answers.

DCI John Carry sat upright tapping his pen in sequence. Both Detectives looked at the man with eyes analysing his every move, taking both mental, and physical notes. 

“Caley you’ve been a very busy boy” said DCI John Carry. 

Caley didn’t react to the Detective as he took that question as a rhetorical one, he waited. 

The Detective followed up by saying, “Can you explain to me what open space is?”

Caley knew they were referring to his subreddit. He wasn’t surprised that they knew about it but still, it felt a bit awkward to him knowing that the one place he chose to voice his opinions was open to strangers he had no interest in sharing with. He felt shy but at the same time it’s the internet, nothing is private.

Caley explained to the Detectives, “Open space is a reddit community where we discuss topics”. 

“Things like mass murder” DCI Sarah Tanner replied sharply. 

Answering the Detective, Caley said “Yes, we have been following the recent murders, and discussing them”. 

DCI Sarah Tanner followed up by saying “You’ve been having very worrying discussions, and there have been some very interesting topics that have come to light through them but let’s talk about that later. Right now, tell us why you personally feel the need to talk about these murders?’’

Caley believed he hadn’t said anything incriminating on Reddit but in all honesty he wasn’t very savvy when it came to the law so he only said what needed to be said, nothing more, nothing less. He told the Detectives that he was a victim in the Bond Street attack, he witnessed the massacre, he saw the blood, he cried the tears, and like all the other victims had to go on living with the memory of what had happened. 

DCI John Carry leaned forward towards Caley telling him, “we are aware of you being there”, and told DCI Sarah Tanner to “Bring up the image”.

 The image that was projected on the wall was the first victim of the Bond Street murder.

“This is Sean Rhymes. You know who he is, you’ve been following the murders as closely as us. If you look closer there’s a second person in the image”.

DCI Sarah Tanner zooms in on the image towards the tube window and what is seen is a face reflected from it. Caley grins discreetly, it was so discrete even the unwavering eyes of the Detectives couldn’t see the shift. He was wearing a mask, and beneath that mask were his true intentions — a beaming smile that could not be seen and revealed to none the joy he felt in killing Sean Rhymes.

He thought to himself, “What a significant moment in time, killing that man set everything in motion; putting the world on the right path”.

He smiled beneath his mask, tempting himself to reveal the truth, salivating at the thought of giving a deeper description of why he did it, how it felt to pluck out an eyeball with a ballpoint pen, and skew skin, and organs together. To him killing Sean Rhymes, the grotesque man was a righteous act, and the pen was a memento of that. He saw the grotesque man as a trophy kill and wished to have his head stuffed, and mounted as a way to commemorate it all. Even with his grotesque features, Caley now saw Sean Rhymes as an abstract piece of art, it was the space that gave meaning and beauty to the kill. The Detectives watched him closely, his eyes slowly diverted their attention away from them; it looked like he was daydreaming. They found his behaviour very weird. They didn’t know if seeing the image of Sean Rhymes had caused him to lose his focus. They were wary of how the Paramedics described their interactions with him in the carriage. 

DCI John Carry hit the desk calling Caley’s name. Caley immediately snapped out of his euphoria. The Directive pointed at the image on the wall, and directed his eyes to the reflection in the window. It was Caley’s face; his face without the mask. A creepy smile that went from cheek-to-cheek with eyes fixated on the dead body. His body was covered head to toe in blood, he was almost camouflaged by it. The Detectives didn’t know what happened on the train but it was almost as if he had been rolling in it. He was bathed. They surmised that he must have been one of the closest people on the train to Sean Rhymes. 

“That’s you” DCI John Carry said with authority. 

Caley was flustered by the Detectives' aggression, and a little embarrassed to look at himself —he looked, but looked away just as fast. He came across shy, and seemed to go within himself. 
DCI Sarah Tanner followed up by saying “Why were you at the scene of the crime, everyone else couldn’t wait to get out of the carriage but you; you stayed”.

”Don’t you think that’s odd behaviour?”

Caley replied by saying “I honestly have no recollection of that time, all I remember is being on the tube, and then all of a sudden in hospital. All the knowledge I have of what happened is from the news, and social media’’.

What he said was all a lie. That day was one he would never forget. Baptised in blood he was a new man, it was at that moment he felt like himself for the first time; he had the space to think, to reflect, and was at peace. To the Paramedics Caley looked like a lifeless shell but in actuality his mind was finally free to think and was feeling more alive than he had ever felt. 

Caley looked at DCI Sarah Tanner, and said “I don’t think it’s odd behaviour, I witnessed a horrible thing, and my body froze”.

“Don’t you have an answer for everything?” said DCI John Carry suspiciously. “It seems like you do not know much about what happened but it’s clear it had an influence on you”…”and with that you are inspiring a lot of people’’.

Caley doesn’t react at all.

DCI John Carry breaks the silence by asking Caley, “Do you know why you’ve been detained?” 

Caley says nothing as DCI John Carry slid a booklet directly in front of him, and calmly opened it to relevant pages. 

“You have been detained for making improper communications online” it read.

Unaware of what that completely meant, Caley is confused. The Detective asks him if he is sure he doesn’t want a Solicitor? The offer is rejected. He thought the solicitor might get him out of the situation faster but the idea of another person being in the already cramped room really bothered him. He was already uncomfortable with the distance between him, and the Detectives and for someone to sit next to him would be far too much. It would make it all the more tempting to reach for the ballpoint pen that the Detective continued to tap on the desk, and rip the Solicitor’s face in half with it. The Detectives look at each other, and back again at Caley. 

“Let’s get to the real reason why you are here”…”You have told us about r/OpenSpace. We believe open space to be an online subculture group of people created, and revolutionised by you into a murderous cult bent on carrying out your ideals through manipulation and fear”.

Caley is shocked but impressed with the brassiness of their allegations. 
 
He tells them “No, that’s not why I started R/OpenSpace. I don’t condone murder”.

The word murder gave him shivers. He looked at the Detectives, and began to wish death on them wishing for the questions to stop. All Caley wanted was peace, he had gotten so used to it. Killing the Detectives entered his mind and with it, a crass smile. Once again he looked at the ballpoint pen in DCI John Carry’s hand; tap, tap, tap — he kept tapping the pen. Caley didn't know if he was being tested or teased but both would result in the room becoming red.

Interrupted by DCI Sarah Tenner, Caley is asked if he knows reddit user U/Hatcloud. It adds to his frustrations and he denies knowing him. 

The DCI asks again, “What about his full name, Andor Jancso?”.

Caley takes a moment to search his mind.

“There must be a reason why they are asking about this man”, he reflected.

For the life of him, he could not remember the name and told them so over and over. DCI Sarah Tanner looks down at her notes, and confidently back at Caley. She begins to write. 

DCI John Carry again tapping his pen tells DCI Sarah Tanner, “Ask him the question”.

Looking at him stone faced she says to him. “Would you kill for space?” 

Caley froze for a moment, and almost instinctively said “yes” but caught his tongue with vice-like teeth halting that word from being uttered.

Thankful that those words didn’t leave his mouth he feels the pressure of their stares. Cold sweats start to coat his hair, and make their way down his face.

“You look nervous” smiled DCI John Carry, “are you alright?”

Caley doesn’t say anything, he’s too busy trying to control his breathing and cage his tongue. He starts to feel a bit dizzy, he puts his hand to his chest feeling his heart, he can’t distinguish his own heart beat from the taps of the Detective knocking on the table. DCI John Carry, impatient with Caley taps more furiously, the tapping gets louder, and faster, leaving small barely noticeable dents on the desk. The desk might as well have been Caley’s brain; he could feel the haemorrhaging. 

I picked up the pen, and drilled it into the Detective's face. This seemed to be my calling card; a ballpoint pen to the face. As a designer I write my ideas with a pen. This time is no different— I  inscribe the idea of needed space into the faces of anyone stupid enough to violate it and hope that in their next life they learn from past mistakes. You, Detective may not have been able  to comprehend my ideas in life but at least you will in death — die for my space!

Caley imagines ripping open the body of the Detectives, and spreading it across the room giving adequate space, and distance for each organ, and body part. Ending DCI John Carry's life calmed him down, even if it was just in thought.

DCI Sarah Tanner repeated the question “Would you kill for space?”.

Caley responds by saying “You’re referring to my post on reddit. It was just a question that I put out there — I didn’t mean anything by it’’.

The Detectives look at each other unconvinced, and push Caley further. 

“We mentioned a man by the name of Andor Janco, you stated that you do not know this man but we have evidence of you having multiple conversations with him under the pretext of Caley404. Would you like us to read some of those conversations, since you can't remember?”

r/OpenSpace Reddit:

“u/Caley404: The only way for us to have freedom is to freely dominate those around us. To make them obey us, and see our way of living. We’ve lived how other people want us to live, and it’s driving all of us into mindless zombies”.

DCI John Carry asks Caley if he would like to explain what freedom he wants?
 
He tells the Detective “It’s obvious that there’s no space, and we have a major problem with overpopulation. 

“I see, “the Detective replies, “and would you explain how you plan to make them obey you’ and who are you referring to”.

Caley took a deep breath and said nothing. The Detective knew very well who he was referring to! Everyone knew who was at fault; the government. We may pay the taxes but the world is built in their design, and by their design we suffer. The silence only made the Detective vex his frustration by asking more questions. He pronounced them with a higher force, each time spit firing words out of his mouth as if to hit Caley and inflicted a response. 

“Who do you want to obey you!”... “What are you planning”... “What's your agenda!”... “Answer me!”

The Detective showered words at Caley but with an unflinching revolve he denied everything. He was content with playing the role of a keyboard warrior who is all talk online with no substance off it. The problem was Caley could be as oblivious as he wanted to outside his computer but on his computer he was very forthcoming and the Detectives had detailed statements that would suggest he was someone they should keep their eyes on.

“You’re not so shy when talking to Andor” enquired DCI Sarah Tanner, “Take a look at the screen”. 

Reddit: 

u/Hatcloud: You speak so much sense, I just want to be free to live my life, and do what I can without interference.

u/Caley404: Trust me, I understand you. We all do. We’ve seen how things can be. Now it’s time to act, and regain our space.

u/Hatcloud: Open space, brother! 

Andor Janco is one of the latest murders linked to the cult killings.  The Detectives were massively surprised Caley said he doesn't know him because of how religiously invested he is in the murders. It was safe to assume that Caley knew Andor was a murderer and with the intimacy of their conversations by Caley admitting that it would be a step closer to them solving the case. DCI Sarah Tanner projects the reddit web page on the wall, showing a video that Andor Janco posted and instructs Caley to watch closely but more importantly to listen. She presses play and eagerly awaits Caley’s reaction. 

Caley has seen every video posted on r/OpenSpace prior to his arrest. There were hundreds of them, and he revered them all, he didn’t have any particular favourites, they were all inspired by the one that came before it. He was very excited to watch the show, he only wished he had some home comforts like sweet and salted popcorn, and to preferably be alone on his sofa and not around the Detectives. He could feel their disdain for him, and it was more reason for him to want to be alone. Nevertheless he leaned back in his chair in anticipation for the movie. The video started, people were on a congested street struggling to make momentum down it. All but one person had their face looking down. That one face looked directly at the camera, and spoke. 

“See, see, this is why we need change. There are thousands of people around me, we are all trying to get somewhere but can’t, we have all lost our human right to space. We are links chained and forced together. Let’s remove these chains, let’s break free”…“I can’t move, I can’t move’’.

He chants furiously but no one pays attention to him. Either no one hears him or just too concerned with themselves to care. The crowd slowly moves in tangent with each other to get to their destination. 

Andor preaches, “Why is the world like this? It doesn’t benefit anyone, we are all miserable, and desperate to survive. This is the only way to have peace”

Again, no one listens and that was the last time Andor’s face is seen. The footage after that only shows the carnage that ensued. With a phone in one hand and a knife in the other, reflections from his blade show the faces; old, young and younger — people of all walks of life. Andor stabs and slices away in every direction, taking away countless lives as he moves around increasing his murder on the dance floor. The video shook left, and right with every thrust and swing of his knife, revealing a different pattern and texture of clothing stained with blood every time. Whilst all of this is going on Andor is heard mumbling.

“Less is more”.

Caley’s eyes glued to the projector, he didn’t miss a moment, every slash, every stab, every dead body thumping to the ground was seen — he never blinked or looked away. He loved this movie. “What a masterpiece. What a beautiful sequel” he thought. Andor had truly made this kill his own and was pleased to hear a nod to his original work by hearing the words ‘less is more’. He knew those words to be his own, and so did the Detectives who were seeing not a mask but the true face of Caley Ratcliffe. 

Caley had forgotten where he was. He stood up in readiness to clap, he had seen this movie before and knew it was nearing its climax. The stabbed victims were slow to react, one by one they dropped to their knees facing the direction they were walking, bleeding out with their eyes open and faces, face down in the concrete. The people in front didn’t realise a massacre was happening behind them but those walking towards it did — they ran in the opposite direction, crashing, and tripping over each other and leaving a mountain sized pile up in their wake. Many still fought to escape the death that was in front of them, they found footing on human jaws, wrists, ribs, and eye sockets pushing down with their full weight to lift themselves to safety. They scaled over bodies to get away, and evidently the stampede turned a mountain of dead bodies into human slabs on the road. In many ways this was worse than being killed by Andor — conscious of their own demise, every stomp was felt, and the harrowing screams rang loud until muffled out by thousands of feet running one way and walking the other. 

Andor was satisfied with the space he had created, he lifted up the camera, at what was once a street packed with thousands of people was levelled out with their corpses revealing a spacious street painted the colour of red. The video ended with one passing message from Andor.

“I kill for space”.

DCI Sarah Tanner stopped the video, and the two Detectives turned to Caley. 

DCI John Carry looks Caley dead in the eye saying “you caused this”, ”Do you feel any guilt?”.
Caley, confused by the questions, tells the Detectives, “What for? I don’t understand my involvement in this’’. 

DCI John Carry grips his pen, and looks at Caley’s now emotionless face, he knows he started this, his involvement was obvious! He started this plague. 

DCI John Carry shouts “you can’t tell me you’re not involved”.
Caley tells the Detective “I am not involved, What have I done?”

DCI Sarah Tanner looks over at DCI John Carey, she can tell he is about to lose his shit. She's been working with him for 8 years, and knows his traits. His face is red with a vein that visually shows how angry he is, and right now that vein is about to pop—She already knows she's too late. DCI John Carry grips his pen in anger, and throws it at Caley. He wanted to punch him in the face but calmed himself just enough to only lash out by throwing a pen. The pen is launched at Caley’s face, hitting him in the eye and causing him to fall back into and out his chair. The Detective stood over him, looking down and saw flashes of that demonic creature covered in blood on the tube cowering with the look of grandeur on his face but that wasn’t what he was seeing now. Caley was scared — his personal space had been violated. Fearful of what might happen next he says nothing and shuffles to the nearest corner away from the Detective. 

DCI Sarah Tanner shouts “John”, “what are you doing?” 

This is enough to suppress the red tone of his face, and the vein slowly reduces in size. DCI Sarah Tanner suspenses the interview, and DCI John Carry storms out of the room questioning himself. Has he let a mass murder get away? Caley now in a cube like pose has his head down, and arms, and legs together. DCI Sarah Tanner approaches him, she goes to tap him on the shoulder to reassure him that everything is okay but before she can get close she is met with a murderous stare from inside the darkness of his folded arms and is frozen in place. She doesn’t dare move closer to him, the only movements she can make are away from him, and out of fear she backs away leaving the room with both eyes fixated on him. It isn’t until the door closes that she is able to breathe and a sigh of relief but before the door is fully shut it opens. It’s Caley!

He towers over her telling the Detective “I would like to see a Solicitor now”.

Caley is left alone in a prison cell waiting for his Solicitor, and for the Detectives to make a decision on whether to hold him or not. The Solicitor came, and to the further anger of DCI John Carey, Caley was allowed to leave — the decision was a clear one, the evidence was insufficient, and with the assault on Caley the police opted to save face, and let him go. DCI John Carry knew he messed up. Out of all the witnesses of the Bond Street murder case his instincts pointed to Caley Ragcliff being the culprit.

It’s great to be free, outside, with not a soul around. I hated being around those Detectives. What a waste of time. Now I can walk around feeling the emptiness of the streets, and lavish in the fresh air, and lack of people. The freedom to walk around like this justifies my actions. I am thankful for all the work R/OpenSpace has done. I can’t imagine ever going back to my congested life. I look up, and see an Underground tube sign at a distance, and think back to that day — I haven’t actually been on a tube since. Spiritedly, enter the tube station. The constant waves of people seems like a distant memory, I still feel a slight presence as if there were ghosts still wandering around this place but in actuality they are gone. The overcrowded pit is empty, even my heartbeat has an echo down here. I made my way to the platform deep underground. I waited no longer than 2 minutes for the tube to arrive. The doors opened, and I stepped in; I wasn’t pushed in, I made my own way in — that was a first. 

Stepping onto the tube I couldn’t believe my eyes, as if to commemorate the anniversary of the Bond Street murders she was there, right before me — the same girl. That same beautifully perfect girl. The same long blonde hair, the same symmetrical oval face, and the same big brown eyes. Now there’s nothing between us, no wall of human sardines stopping us, no grotesque man to impede us. Just you, and me. The doors shut, and the tube started to move, my heart was racing in beat with the train tracks. I should talk to her, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t. She’s the reason I killed, she’s the reason I started this. She’s the one person in my life that I wouldn’t mind getting close to, and with the train empty that can finally happen. I walk up to her, and attempt to hide my nervous disposition. I wasn’t that far away from her, maybe a few feet but with every step I felt like 5 more steps were added; elongating the tube. I am just a few steps away from her, I’ve longed for this moment, she turns looking directly at me, she really is perfect. I am just 5 steps away from her; 4 steps, 3 steps, I take a deep breath. I closed my eyes to tell her what I’ve been waiting to say all this time but to my surprise I would not open my eyes again. That was the last breath I would ever take. I entered her space.