Stuck In Time

August 18 2099

DISCLAIMER: I wrote this story I think around 2 years ago, when I was 12. It's not great, as I used to focus more on plot and plot twists than good writing, emotional depth, good dialogue, or character development

It is what it is.

The explosion was enormous. A giant ball of fire punched its way out of the building, like a yellow and orange fist. Smoke trailed out soon after. The building fell apart, blackened and burnt. Flames licked at the walls and leapt up onto the windows. It burned until the inferno reduced it to a black rectangle on the ground.

It's hard to believe that it all began in a classroom.

Fourteen-year-old Perdix Sefton was shepherded into the classroom by the professor. She relished the feel of the room. After all, it was only once a fortnight that she got those lessons. Of course, the professor had to write her teacher a note. According to the family doctor, Perdix had an infection on her arm that had to be checked at regular intervals. Luckily, it wasn't contagious, so she could continue going to school. No-one even batted an eye.

The classroom was at the far end of the school. It had been used in the past, but then the school roll had decreased and the room had been abandoned. The professor - who posed as a teacher at the school - used his daily release time to tutor Perdix. He secured the class for these lessons.

Perdix looked around. There were dozens of shelves fixed on the plain brown walls. The shelves were only interrupted by four huge windows, two on each wall, and the even larger black curtains. On the shelves were bottles and beakers of every conceivable shape and size. They held all manner of potions and objects inside of them. The liquids were of every colour from cyan to magenta. Here and there, Perdix could see bottled spiders, toads, and even the clichéd eyeballs.

Anyone else would have run away screaming, but Perdix enjoyed being in the room. It was her only sanctuary from her school life. It was where she could be herself.

That is, a witch. Albeit one in training. One of the last witches alive.

"Let's recap from last time, Perdix."

With a start, Perdix remembered the professor.

His name was Professor Goodwin. He was a tall, wiry man who was handsome in a bookish sort of way. His salt and pepper hair was cut short and he wore thin, round glasses. The professor looked like a middle-aged Harry Potter more than anything else - especially since he was wearing full length robes that reached down to his black, leather shoes.

"Sure, Professor."

Professor Goodwin strutted into the room and sat in a chair that hadn't been there a second before. From his pocket he produced a sheet of black metal, which he threw on the wooden floor. Perdix could hardly contain her delight.That could only mean one thing. The metal sheet bubbled and expanded, until a black cauldron stood in its place.

"What is the main ingredient in the Time Traveller's Potion, Perdix?"

"Newt's tongue, Professor."

"Good. We will be making the Time Traveller's Potion today. Do you remember all the ingredients and the method from last time's theory lesson? I couldn't find the recipe again."

Truth be told, Perdix couldn't. Despite that, she was confident that when the time came, she would remember.

She nodded.

Goodwin waved his hand at the cauldron. "Then begin."

The boy's name was Daedalus. He knew why the monster was attacking him. He knew everything about it, except how to fight it. Daedalus looked up at the monster looming above him. It was seven feet tall, covered in a ragged black cloak. It's long, thin fingers gripped a bronze leaf-bladed sword, dull with age. The monster's face was hideous, with grey lips that were curled back in a snarl, and it's red eyes burned with hate.