Cold Steel

by R.T. Allenson


His dreamless slumber is a vast nothingness of memories – there were times he thought he was waking up, only to fall asleep again, dreaming nothing except the white scream of eternity.

Scientists with forlorn brows and calculating eyes discussed and studied, for his noisome scream into the depths of infinity is as much an experiment as it is research; all of them grossly ensnared with the fantastic revelations they have made through their own self-made miracle. They tracked his journey across space and time meticulously, almost intimately, for their goal was to change the past to make the future better.

But the wisdom of the ages would not be so easily claimed. He traveled through decades and millenniums, the white scream taking him to places long gone but never stopping for the destination was predetermined and it was their hand, not his, that was leaning on the tiller of destiny to his ordained fate. His vehicle exploded through time and he felt the weight of the ages bearing on him immensely.

The scientists waited anxiously as he drew near to his destination – anticipation, dread and fear all mixed in a quagmire of emotions. But an alarm was raised and their temporal ambassador’s signal was lost, leaving silence and bewilderment in his passing. They rushed to their subject’s vehicle, still in place in their lab and though he remained asleep, despite their urging, he did not wake. They found a deep would in his chest where, to their surprise, they found a shard of cold steel lodged in his artery.

For the line towards fate was off course, the trajectory flawed and instead he was shot to a time when innocence tampered would mean a sword to the chest. It was then that the scientists understood that not only does time correct itself, but also punishes those who would dare tamper it.

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