n/a

The Gift

     Okay. I understand that you're upset. The only characters that were cool just died. I understand your frustration. Just calm down, and breathe. Now, I'm confused because if I remember right, Time gave James a so-called "gift", when in reality he killed all of his friends.

     "No, I did truly give him a gift." Tom Said.

     Time should also know that he isn't allowed to talk to the author because it is my story and he is in past tense.

     "Actually I'm Time so technically I can be in whatever tense I want," Tom explained.

     Okay well whatever, I'd just appreciate it if he would stop meddling in my story like this because first off, he's supposed to be a character and not some crazy, delusional, free-willed, child.

     "Hey, that's mean. You can't call me a child. I am as old as time itself. Wait. I am time. Nevermind, but you get my point." Time spouted.

     Yeah and you can't kill all my characters, but oh, wait, everyone is dead and the only character left is our piece of garbage James.

     "Okay that was a little childish of me, but I didn't want you to keep saying he wasn't special. So I gave him a gift and killed everyone else, so now that he's the only character and he has the "gift of time" he is special." Time argued.

     Okay, if I say he's special, will you stop killing my characters and messing with my story?

     "That's fair."

     Okay then. Now, reader, forgive this childish banter between character and author. Let's get back to the juicy plot of our extremely serious story.   

     Okay, so here it seems that we begin our journey yet again. James seemed to be lying on the floor of the beginning building of the laboratory, well, the house floor. He slowly got up from his daze, looking around, trying to focus. James looked at the walls, the boxes on the racks, and everything, absolutely everything, was rusted and degraded. Everything that was once in that beautiful, yet garbage looking facility, looked as though it had aged hundreds of years. Maybe it had. everything in the vicinity was dusted over, moulded, or rusted beyond recognition.

          An old man, hair white as snow, and long, thick, beard, lay on the floor close to our main character. The man slowly opened his eyes and stared at James, not seeming surprised. The man gave him a large, bleach white smile. 

     "What year is it?" James asked without thought.

     "Oh, ye do not yet know where we are, do ya?" The old man replied.

     "No, sir." James was confused by the linguistic ability of the man.

     "It's the year 2250." The man explained.

     "Wait. It's 2017." James responded.

     "Thou dost not remember the war?" The man questioned.

     "What war? There was no war." 

     "In 2018, a war broke out between the Americas and thine eastern countries. Russia tried to invade England and knowing they'd lose, England invaded the U.S." The man began to explain.

     "So the United States is gone?"

     "It's the Second Monarchy now." 

     James slowly came to the realization that the old man was telling the truth. All the sudden, he looked at the nice door that was gently shut just a few chapters ago. It was almost completely gone from deterioration.  A man in chainmail and iron armour came around the door, peering through the opening. If you couldn't tell by now, the world has reverted back to medieval times. I would assume that it is because of the lack of ammunition for the guns used hundreds of years prior. Anyways, the man looked confused when he looked at James,  almost as if he should know everyone in the town. The man kicked the door open in an almost elegant manner and sped towards James. He held his hand out and stared James down, expecting something.

     "I.D." The man said.

     James, being stupid, pulled out his driver's license, and handed it to the man. He looked at the I.D. and his eyes widened. 

     "Spy!" The man yelled, drawing his sword.

     James ran instinctively, hoping he could get away from the soldier. 

     "Heart rate rising, rest recommended. Wait, sensing high-risk situation, administering adrenaline." James' suit spoke once more.

     The sting had soon become normal for James, as the adrenaline began to spread throughout his body. 

     "Stop!" Yelled the soldier as he began to gain ground.

     The soldier soon caught up to James, regardless of the adrenaline that was still coursing through his veins. James was tackled, and cuffs were soon placed around his wrists.  James tried to turn around, but he was soon met with a pommel to his temple, knocking him unconscious. 

     In James' current state, he dreamt of his old friend. The white-haired boy that he saw just recently at the lab. 

     "Give me control." Said the boy.

     "What do you mean?" James questioned.

     "You want to get out of this situation right? Just relax and let me do what I'm supposed to do." 

     James no longer questioned his old friend and slept. A dream within a dream. James let go, and Tommy soon took control. This next part is something James will not understand for quite some time. So sit back, relax, and don't tell my main character what's about to happen.

     As Tommy slipped into his shared skin, the old colour of James' hair turned snow white. A grin came to his face, and slow maniacal laughter escaped from his mouth. The soldier looked at James and his eyes widened when he looked at his white hair. Tommy stayed quiet until the soldier did what he was supposed to do. After being carried for some time, Tommy was placed on a cart with a horse in front. Tommy was blindfolded and transported by horse for an hour or so. Tommy was led to an older courthouse-like building where they met two doormen.

     "Luitennant Stonemason requesting passage to imprison a suspected spy." Said the soldier.

     "Passage granted." One doorman replied.

     Tommy was taken to the reformed dungeon of the old, run-down, courthouse. The cell floor was lined with hay and faeces. The bars were made of hardened steel and the cell was made of reinforced concrete. The blindfold was removed and Tommy heard the bars lock as the cell door was shut. He opened his eyes and smiled as he looked around the almost barren room. 

     "Inhuman anomaly detected, researching suit resident's origin." The suit stated. 

     "You're not gonna be able to find anything," Tommy explained. 

     Tommy cracked his joints and headed to the bars that contained him within the room. He placed his hands on two vertical bars and began to pull. The bars strained but soon bent to form an opening large enough for Tommy to step out of. He walked out of the cell and looked down the concrete hallway, dimly lit by torchlight. Tommy walked to the left, down rows upon rows of cells and prisoners.  

     "Origin not found, conducting secondary research." E-7 began.

     Tommy snickered and began making his way up a flight of cobblestone steps. A guard noticed him and drew his sword. Tommy laughed right before plunging his hand into the guards heavily armoured chest.  Blood began pouring from the man's chest cavity and the look of terror crossed his face as he coughed up blood. As Tommy ripped out the man's heart, the broken steel armour cut through Tommy's hand. He giggled as the wound quickly closed. With one bite Tommy devoured the man's heart with a devilish grin and evil glare as he gazed into the man's horrified eyes. The man's limp body fell to the ground, and two more guards walked into the passage, staring at Tommy with newfound bloodlust. They drew their swords and ran at the boy. Almost simultaneously, they plunged their swords into his chest just inches apart. Tommy seemed shocked for just a moment but then chuckled as he lifted both the men off the ground, one throat in each hand. Once they stopped struggling, he let their bodies drop to the ground and pulled the swords out of his body. The wounds closed up as flesh stitched to flesh. 

     So this is his gift? He is now psychotic and practically immortal. Good one Time. I applaud thee.