The Time Gambler's Curse

Chapter 6: The Last Jump

Damian stood frozen in the dim light of the bookstore, his breath shallow, the weight of Weaver's journal pressing down on him like lead. The pages fluttered in his trembling hands, but it was no longer just a book—it was his lifeline, his only hope. The air around him buzzed with that same faint hum, the one that seemed to follow him everywhere now, a constant reminder that time was unraveling, and the Eraser was closing in.

Elias's voice cut through the silence, steady but grim. "This is it, traveler. One jump left. One shot to set it all right."

Damian forced himself to breathe, though the flickers in his vision—the edges of time itself distorting—made every breath feel like it might be his last. The Eraser wasn't far behind. It was waiting, watching, hunting. If he didn't move now, there wouldn't be a next time.

"Where do I go?" Damian whispered, his voice shaky, like he wasn't even sure he could trust his own instincts anymore.

Elias didn't hesitate, flipping the journal to a page marked with circles, arrows, and scrawled notes—a chaotic map of Damian's past mistakes. He jabbed his finger at a note near the bottom of the page.

"It's not just the first bet," Elias explained, his voice tightening with urgency. "The real fracture started when you pushed too far—the first stock market trade. That's when you overloaded the system, tore a hole in time. You need to go back to the moment before the Crash. Stop yourself from placing that bet."

Damian's chest tightened. The Great Crash. The memory of it hit him like a punch to the gut—the smoky speakeasy, the thrill of the trade, the arrogance that had blinded him to the consequences. He had thought himself invincible then. Now, time itself was reminding him how wrong he had been.

"The day before the Crash," Damian muttered, more to himself than to Elias. "I go back and stop the bet. I undo everything."

Elias nodded, his expression unreadable, but the tension in his jaw betrayed the gravity of the moment. "That's right. You stop yourself, and the fracture heals. The Eraser will stop hunting you."

Damian glanced down at the time device on his wrist, its copper dials tarnished and cracked from overuse. It had barely survived his last jump. Could it handle another? He didn't have a choice. The weight of his failures pressed against him, but so did the realization that this was it—his last chance to make things right.

"And if I fail?" Damian's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but the question lingered in the air like a storm cloud.

Elias's eyes darkened, his voice soft but unyielding. "If you fail, you disappear. Time erases you. Every trace of your existence, gone."

A chill crawled down Damian's spine. He had faced danger before—he had gambled with his life more times than he could count—but this was different. The thought of being erased from history, forgotten by everyone he had ever known, terrified him more than death itself.

Without another word, Damian twisted the dials on the time device, setting it for October 27, 1929—the day before the Great Crash. The gears whined in protest, but after a moment, the familiar hum returned. Faint, but steady. It was still working. Barely.

Elias stepped closer, his voice heavy with warning. "This is your last move, traveler. Make it count."

Damian nodded, gripping the journal tight, his heart pounding. He knew the stakes. He had to stop himself, had to undo the damage. With a deep breath, he pressed the activation switch.

The world folded in on itself, colors blurring, sounds distorting. For a brief moment, Damian felt himself falling through the cracks of time, suspended between realities. Then, with a sharp jolt, he was back.

The crowded streets of 1929 New York unfolded around him, alive with the hustle and bustle of a world teetering on the edge of disaster. People moved with confidence, unaware of the impending financial collapse that would strike the next day. Damian swallowed the rising panic in his chest. He had no time to waste.

He pushed through the crowd, weaving between men in sharp suits and women in flapper dresses. His mind raced. Somewhere in this city, his past self was about to make the biggest mistake of his life. He had to stop him. The weight of the journal under his arm was like a ticking clock, each second slipping away.

The alley near the speakeasy came into view, its familiar brick walls looming like sentinels guarding the entrance to his past. Damian pressed his back against the wall, scanning the street. Time felt warped here, stretched thin, like it was resisting him, pulling him back toward the Eraser's waiting grasp.

Then, through the crowd, he saw him—his past self. Confident, cocky, striding toward the speakeasy with the same arrogance Damian remembered all too well. His heart clenched. This was it. The moment of truth.

Damian stepped forward, his hands shaking as he intercepted his younger self. "You can't go in there," he hissed, grabbing him by the arm.

His past self jerked back, his eyes wide with surprise. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded, his voice dripping with suspicion.

"I'm you," Damian whispered urgently. "From the future. You're about to make the biggest mistake of your life. If you place that bet, everything falls apart."

His younger self blinked, confusion and disbelief flashing across his face. "What the hell are you talking about? This is the surest bet of my life."

"No!" Damian tightened his grip, his voice fierce. "You don't understand. You're breaking time. Every jump you make tears reality apart. If you make this trade, the consequences will wipe you out—erase you from existence."

His past self narrowed his eyes, his defiance rising. "You're crazy."

Damian's heart pounded. "Please. If you make this bet, you'll destroy everything. I'm trying to save you. Save us."

But before he could say more, the air around them rippled. The hum that had been stalking him grew louder, more insistent. Damian's blood ran cold.

The Eraser was here.

He turned, and there it was—the same flickering figure, gliding toward them like a predator. Its hollow eyes locked onto them, its skeletal form distorting the alley, bending the light. Damian's younger self stumbled back, his face pale with terror.

"What is that?" his past self gasped.

"That," Damian said, his voice strained, "is what happens when you break the rules of time."

The Eraser surged forward, the air around it crackling with power, bending reality as it moved. Damian felt its pull, the overwhelming force threatening to tear him from existence. He was running out of time—both versions of himself were.

"Don't place the bet," Damian whispered, his voice raw. "You can stop this. You can fix everything."

His younger self hesitated, his eyes darting between Damian and the Eraser. For a split second, Damian thought he might listen, that he might walk away and let everything reset. But then his past self shook his head, determination flashing in his eyes.

"I can't back down. Not now."

Damian's heart sank.

The Eraser surged forward, its hand outstretched, ready to erase them both. Time itself seemed to warp, the walls of the alley bending, the world around them collapsing.

In a desperate move, Damian lunged forward and tackled his past self to the ground. The journal slipped from his grasp, skidding across the alley floor. The Eraser let out a piercing screech, the sound of time fracturing around them.

The world flickered.

And everything went black.