tales from the skyline: a short story anthology

𝚌𝚑𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

I can almost feel the time slipping away, as every second that passes seems to drag on for an eternity. Ironic, really, considering why I'm here.

Hot iron handcuffs pressing against my wrists and ankles, chaining me to what I think should be a chair in the startlingly cold room, give me the only sense of life I have. The only sense of a body that could possibly contain me. My eyes scan the room (if it can be called that), darting around the frightening liminal space that they expect to contain me, optical tricks and illusions blurring both my body's and mind's eyes until the only thing I can see is a simple hourglass. Its simple diamonds, running through like sand, holds secrets only time can tell.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Do you know why you were brought here today?"

I would jump out of my seat in surprise if I wasn't chained to it, the raspy voice seeming to echo through the room before the door – wait, where did the door come from? – opens. A myriad of light shines onto my face, blinding me momentarily as someone steps through.

"I said, do you know why you've been brought here today?" the voice repeats.

Oh. It's only Baron. That's alright, I've dealt with him many times before. It's just a matter of saying the right things, with the right pleading expression on your face.

"Yes, and I'm very, very sorry for what I did. I promise, I won't do it again." I say, putting on the mock devastated tone I've practised for situations such as this.

"Acer, please. We both know you have no remorse for this, and crimes against the clock are an extremely serious matter."

Crimes against the clock.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

"Alright, could you shut that thing off, please?" I snap, not even bothering to kick and flail to emphasise my point. "It's annoying, and frankly, it's getting on my nerves."

"Why?" Baron asks.

What? What does he mean, why? Before I can ask, he continues, both his voice and face conveying no emotion.

"Why does it irritate you so much? Why does the incessant, relentless ticking of a clock get on your nerves so much? Is it because you hear it so much, ringing in your ears every time you change something from the past? Every time you make the future and present better for yourself, but so, so much worse for others?" He pauses, dramatic, the final bow on a stage dimmed by the reality of his words, "or is it because it's the only thing you ever hear, floating in the Void every time a jump goes wrong, somehow hovering in the nowhere but silently wishing you could just fall, if only to feel something? Did I get that right, Acer?"

I glare at him, emphasising the 'I will not stand for this' in my stare. "You don't know anything about me."

Baron looks right back at me, his unfocussed stare giving him the mask of a wise, old owl.

"I may not. But I'll certainly have time to learn."

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Gods, no. please don't let this be it. I've done so much to keep myself from this place, I've calculated every time jump and made sure that the Council can't see its effects, so why? Why is this happening now?

Future version of Acer, please. Future me, come save me from the prison I'll ultimately be locked up in.

Seconds tick by, but in those seconds, eternities pass. Planets fall. Time is erased and rebuilt in so many ways. But future me does not come to save me.

"Well, go on then, take me to prison," I scoff at Baron, masking my slight stress with a lax expression.

"Oh, no, not prison. Acer, you've invaded our authorities for far too long, and made far too many changes to the proper timeline. Hell, you've even interfered with other planets' times! No, no, this does not warrant prison. This warrants an eternity in the Void."

The Void.

The Void, the pristine darkness that's always silent, yet seems to be the loudest place in the universe. The place where all time stops, yet everything happens all at once. Where emotions will get you nowhere of use, floating in an expanse of nothing that just happens to be everything.

It's confusing. And bright, and dark, and quiet, and loud, and-

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Baron uncuffs my limbs from the seat, starting to list of my crimes, but his words are fuzzy as only one thing runs through my head a million times over.

Run.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.