The End of Time Itself - 1. Story

The End of Time Itself

This is the penultimate event in my anthology series for 2010. I hope you enjoyed the flow of the anthologies this year that have been leading up to this and my following anthology story. Thank you for reading and enjoy.

‘There were many deaths. There were so many deaths.’ The old man, a curvature in his spine, sat in his wheelchair. He spoke to the young lady across the table and he looked between his feet. Searching for an answer to his past.

‘Please. Don’t stop. Carry on.’ She placed her hands in his and encouraged him.

‘I have killed so many. All because of what the world told me to do. I am not a murderer. I am deformed. Decrepit. I am the last of my kind and yet I feel a need to kill again.’

‘Why do you have those feelings?’

‘Because he tells me to.’ He began to manically laugh. The woman sat across edged slowly towards the door of the room and slammed her hand on the emergency exit button and left the room swiftly with the elderly gentleman still laughing.

‘What’s his problem?’ Her co-worker addressed her.

‘He doesn’t have a problem. Well, maybe he does. But there is something there. Someone in his mind.’

‘You know that that is impossible. Magic was outlawed by The High Priestess.’

‘Do you really think I give a shit what the High Priestess thinks?’

‘No. No you don’t. Let me have a go with him.’ He pressed on the glass window on a heat reactive frame in order to open the modern prison chamber.

‘Who goes there?’ The elderly gentleman groaned.

‘It is me, Vershinin’. The man smiled and looked into the gentleman’s eyes with a sense of contempt but still, a feeling of pity came over him.

‘So, old friend. How is the wife?.’

‘Left me. Stuck with my husband now.’

‘Oh.’ A feeling of tension began to grow in the room. The elderly gentleman sniffed and coughed violently.

‘What has happened to you old friend?’

‘I aged. As all of our kind do. You will age soon. What is your day of age?’

’24.’

‘Ah. You have another year. She is so foolish to believe that I would give up so easily. An old man can have his tricks. Do you know what the plan is?’

‘No. All you said was to make you come here and arrest you for insanity and witchcraft.’

‘I asked you to bring me here so I can show you something.’

‘What?’ He took a deep breath.

‘I want to show you a photograph.’

‘Okay. Show me.’

The elderly gentleman reached into his pocket and extracted a single photo frame. But what was in this photo frame was most interesting. It was blank.

‘What am I meant to look at?’ the Agent asked.

‘Don’t look,’ the gentleman sniggered, ‘Be consumed.’

Upon that very note, the agent was taken into the photograph by a gust of everlasting wind. But something was far more intriguing.

As he was absorbed, the elderly gentleman became young again.

He was young and unafraid.

He was born, and always shall be, a killer.

He was the boy with the gingery hair and he was now the last of his kind.

The last of The Time Travellers.

And, god, did it fill him with power…

**

His youth was very advantageous to him. He was able to walk straight out of the box he was held in and into the streets of Modern London without a hush or a word. It was only when the alarm bells began to sound and the shouting of ‘Prisoner Eight has escaped’ that things started to get extremely interesting.

They sent out the men in black suits to search for this elderly gentleman. Little did they know that the clues he had left behind to find him would lead them down a trail of misery and suffering they had never known before.

He felt the need to taste the blood of more people.

So he led them down the alleys and with his clues entrapped them in a dark foreboding alley and did his dirty work. With the effects of time he was able to stop the existence of anyone. The Existence of the world itself depended on him being alive.

The High Priestess knew this and so she gave him a ‘Forever’ Pass. This meant that he could stay forever on their planet and be never caught. Unless he was to break the three golden rules set by the High Priestess. 1) No high class killing. 2) No trying to find the archives of time and the most important 3) Do not interrupt the timeline of his own species. She was under the impression he was the last of his kind. He was now. Although, he knew that by his 25^th Birthday he would have to change again, because they have to start life again in a new situation and a new face. But always the hair would stay the same. He would need to find a mate and a home for himself.

The last time he undergone a transformation was just before he met a very strange gentleman in a bar.

"People usually think their most intimate thoughts, not say them out loud." A teenage boy with gingery hair was suddenly sat the stool next to him.

"Have you been there all the time?"

"Pretty much."

"Lovely. Another person to bemoan at my mental delusions."

"I wouldn't do that if I were you..."

"Do what."

"Do what they are telling you."

"I won’t... I’m stronger than them..."

"You think you are... But it will take over again."

"I know I am stronger than it."

"We will meet again... I confirm it. Just avoid your thoughts. You will lose to them."

He was so young, but he had to start his life cycle again. He was very surprised he did not try kill him at that particular time, but he felt something. Something telling him it was not his time to die. It was his time to kill himself. He must die by his own hand. As part of the rules he was not allowed to intervene in this particular case.

He, of course, always followed the rules, but he had an excuse to bend them slightly. Putting a tack in the road was always an effective way of causing people to not go back. Especially with a lorry travelling at 50 miles per hour, there was no hope that he would come out of it alive.

He truly was sadistic.

But there was a problem.

He was enjoying it far too much. There was something behind his eyes.

There was something in him that he couldn’t understand but he embraced it.

**

His age had changed once again, another 25 years of youth to be on his side. He was protected, of course, but there was something he had to do.

He had to take the request of the High Priestess.

He had to slaughter again, but this time, people who had broken nature’s rules.

Four teenagers. Each of them there for a very different purpose. Knock Knock. Knock Knock. Who is there? The murdering time traveller. There were legends. Legends of such great length…

And they hurt… They hurt the eyes of those who could not see. The Seers. The Sooths. Even the Darkness.

The Court of Miracles observes all that is and all that ever shall be. It is why there is death in the world. The Balance of Yin and Yang.

If one dies another must be reborn.

They avoided their deaths according to the High Priestess, but the something behind the eyes disagreed; he was strong enough to ignore the carnal desire to disobey.

He slaughtered them. A boy with gingery slaughtered them.

And left only this message :

‘The ones who disobey the rules will be punished. Death is always the option. Avoid the lights. Avoid the dark. I will return. Prepare to pay an even greater price.’

After the murders, something really quite remarkable happened. He escaped and he always did.

He came across a choice.

Two figures. One from light and one from dark. There was only ever one possible choice.

There’s no going back…

Or was there another door for escape?

The war must come to an end.

Whether it be for the light force or the dark force.

He will make the choice…

**

Staring down the street, the creature of complete darkness hid his face. He did not want to be seen. The time traveller must come with him. Or surely the universe will perish?

**

Staring down the street, the creature of complete purity could see the darkness. He wanted to be seen. The time traveller must come with him. Or surely the universe will die a very slow and painful death?

**

The boy with gingery hair always knew what to do…

He accepted the light behind his eyes and from that a new idea was born.

From the light comes the dark.

All the lights are off now. The darkness has prevailed.

He made his decision.

Time itself must end with only the final whimper…

‘Death is the only option’.

© 2010 Johnathan_Colourfield

Thank you to my off site editor Pete

Story Discussion