《The Supernatural Case of an Accidental Time Traveler》Beginnings - Part Six
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When I awoke I tussled around as one who desperately wished to find a more comfortable sleeping position. I had yet to even open my eyes, believing in my subconscious that the last day had been a very lucid dream. That is until I heard something familiar.
“Hey you, you’re finally awake.” a voice that sounded like a scratchy mix between an old man and a pubescent boy said.
After hearing this my eyes shot open half expecting to wake up in a moving carriage as if the next part to my dream. Instead, I was in a candle-lit room with no windows. A desk was on one end of the room covered in old papers and books while on the other a lavishly designed door stood with more locks on it than that of a paranoid crack-head. Otherwise, the room had nothing but the cot I was laying on and the person whose voice I heard upon waking up.
He was rather old or at least I thought it was a he, with long white hair and a rather younger-looking face. He adorned a grey robe that made me think he was a cosplayer or part of a cult. Actually, with all that has happened to me recently, that would be the least surprising thing I’ve seen.
“I was worried that you might be extremely hurt the way Langston brought you here, the drunk bastard, but you seem alright.” The man said with a smile on his face.
I sat up so as to not show him any disrespect before speaking to him. “Where am I and who are you?”
“You are in the safest place in all of London, my bedroom.” he said before waving his hands around to show it off but I was not impressed. “And my name is Iscarat Put, master of sorcery.”
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To be frank not much surprised me at this point but something about this guy was giving me a ton of mental red flags. I don’t know whether it’s his insanely scratchy voice, pride in his bedroom, or the fact that he unironically called himself a sorcerer but it was creepy. Instead, I figured I should ask why I was here. “What am I doing here?”
“Well as I said before, Mr.Langston brought you here unconscious. What I want to know is are you from the future as he said? Other than your watch I could find nothing on you that seemed futuristic.”
“Yes… I am from the future. That watch is digital and solar-powered, something that isn’t available in the 1880s.” I said with a sigh.
“Okay, you’re from the future. I believe that but how can you obtain power from the sun?” he asked in the same way a science teacher would ask the class idiot.
“... The sun generates solar rays and that watch collects rays and converts them into electricity or energy. It then powers the watch and shows the time on the screen, I don’t know any more than that. I am not an expert on it.” I said hoping that would quell his desire for the knowledge of future machinery.
“Fascinating, the future holds such great things I just hope I will live long enough to see it.” Iscarat said with mild enthusiasm.
“I doubt it. That’s over a hundred years in the future.” he kinda looked depressed when I said that. Maybe I should have encouraged him rather than stomping on his dreams or so I thought. He got happy again, almost joyous even after a second. I don’t know what made him so happy but I could tell it wasn’t good, screw me for pitying him.
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“If you time-traveled then maybe others could too?” he almost yelled. “What caused you to time travel?”
“I don’t know, I kind of just woke up in an alley.”
“...oh, well that’s disappointing.” he said redundantly.
“Ya, sorry.” I said, feeling a bit sorry for the guy.
“Mmm… so we haven’t been across the galaxy by the 2000s?”
“No, we only get to the moon and the Americans do it first.”
“Really? How did the colonies get more advanced than us?” he asked angrily but his scratchy voice made it sound utterly hilarious, like a bog witch shrieking about not getting tax benefits.
“I don’t know, I’m not a history nut.”
At this point, the conversation had gone in a strange direction and the news about the space race seemed to anger Iscarat, thus I wasn’t going to continue. Thankfully a knock at the door ended the conversation. “Who is it?” asked Iscarat. “It’s Scott, the code is rapture.” replied the knocker who I was not pleased to hear was Langston.
After hearing this, Iscarat walked over to the door and spent about thirty seconds unlocking the insane amount of locked ordaining it and opened the door. In walked Scott smelling of booze and looking incredibly tired.
“Well…, is he from the future?” he asked the moment he was inside and the door was shut behind him.
“Yes.” Iscarat replied with a very monotone voice.
Scott sighed, took a deep breath, and as he released his breath a word escaped his lips. “Bollocks.”
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