Letters Lost in Time - Karl Jacobs

Diary Entry #...5?

I still don't know how to feel about the inbetween.

It should comfort me, I know it should. As far as I know, I'm the only one with access to this dimension. No one else could have written the messages in books that I find laying around the place. No one would know of my time travels or its consequences so intricately with how I've kept it a secret, so only one scenario is possible. I visited this place in the past, I wrote to myself, and now I'm reading it so that I get on the right track. Seeing multiple versions of me running around only confirms it. Though, it does still beg a few pressing questions.

Writings addressed directly to myself means that I had gone through this enough times to recognize the effects of time travel. It also means that I knew there would be multiple versions of myself travelling through the inbetween, some still new to the concept of time travel. I somehow knew that some sort of cycle was in place, and took advantage of that so that the newer versions of myself would have more information to go off of than the last. It's smart, and it ensures that there will be some sort of progress eventually. The messages are like a guide, like something for me to pick up if I've found myself at square one once again.

Judging by their contents, I had already discovered the secrets in the inbetween but ended up forgetting and searching for it all over again. I could assume that somewhere along the way, I discovered I forgot and started writing to myself so I knew to look for it. Seeing as there are no direct directions or specific locations, I can assume that the secrets do not remain in one place. Otherwise, it would be much easier to outright lead myself to the key of all our problems. This is supported by one of the messages telling me of how the castle is dynamic, ever moving and ever changing. On the other hand, it could also mean I had never even discovered them in the first place, but that's unlikely considering that I know of their existence. I shouldn't ignore the possibility, though.

Most of all, there are ominous notes slipped into small crevices that warn me not to stray from the path. It's eerie, to say the least, and doesn't exactly help with my growing suspicion. The message isn't left in broad daylight, where it's easy to see. Instead, it's shoved under a tree and hidden. If it's meant to be a warning, then...

There's a threat. Somewhere in the inbetween, something doesn't want me to know of its existence and danger. Something had been a threat enough to warrant hiding secret messages. Though the contents and its implications are confusing, it doesn't change that something out there doesn't want me to know that I shouldn't stray from the path. It seems like it should be a pretty obvious guide note, but something seems to want me to stray by hiding the warnings against doing so. Or I could be the one to hide them myself, so the specific something wouldn't know I was aware of it. Either way, it's not a good sight and there's clearly a threat lurking here somewhere.

If I'm the only one with access to this dimension, then could this mean the impending threat is myself?

...

I'd prefer not to think about it, if I'm being honest. It means that some version of myself had decided to self-sabotage somehow, and for reasons I can't yet understand. Well, that's not entirely true. I think I can imagine what went down.

How many times had I gone through this, only to forget? How many more will I go through it, and will I fail once again?

No matter how much I swear not to falter, the human conviction is only so fragile. It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility for a version of myself to have crumbled under the immense pressure and given up. I can't exactly berate that, considering how I've also entertained that thought before. However, I can, at the very least, promise to myself that I won't go down that path. For as long as I can, I will keep my resolve unwavering, I will keep my travels ongoing, I will keep the clock ticking. Time is under my power, and therefore is also my responsibility.

Til next time. Remember who you are.

...

−Karl Jacobs...?

-

He closes the book, tucking it into his hoodie pocket along with the pen as he jumps off the swing. He finds himself transfixed as it slowly comes to a stop, chains clicking against each other in the motion. That's weird. The swing set was oddly familiar, particularly the way it sat under a tree. For some reason, the sight gives him such conflicting feelings and twists his guts in a way he doesn't think he's ready to deal with yet. He couldn't seem to recall where he had last seen something like this, he couldn't seem to recall much, really. He shrugs it off, chalking it up to childhood nostalgia and memories from a distant past.

He dusts himself off, revealing his pristine white clothes. He doesn't know where the clothes come from, but he's grateful they're comfortable and well kept. The inbetween was awfully chilly, the icy zephyr permeating all his layers and seeping into his skin no matter how many there are and how thick they may be. He misses the warmth. He wants the warmth back, right now. He doesn't know where to find it, but he's not going to get any from just sitting around. He gets up and starts following the path, though he doesn't really know why he takes this particular route. Movement from his peripheral vision catches his eye and interrupts his train of thought, and he turns to investigate.

He breathes out a sigh when he realizes it's just another him. His other self doesn't even spare him a glance, quickly stomping down the hallway with a resolute look in his eyes. He doesn't have the heart to stop him, or even chase after him. It seems as if all of them had come to a unanimous rule to not interact with each other lest they interfere with the individual journeys. He doesn't mind really, mainly because he doesn't really know what he'd do if he ever had to talk to another version of himself. So, instead, he just continues walking. He continues walking on the path with no real destination, past the threshold to the castle proper, past the other versions of himself also passing by on their own missions. Some look determined, some look angry, some look mournful, some look happy... while he just feels lost.

Despite so many of him running around... why does he still feel so alone?