In Time

The room looked as if a tornado ripped through it. No, not ripped through it. Took a pit stop in the lab, personally flung everyone and everything until they shattered before dissipating. Through the cracked glass of the time machine, he could clearly see the red emergency lights glaring at everything in the room. Every glance he took was washed with red.

Then he noticed the blood painting the walls. Just at his eye level, a message, presumably for him, written by sliding a finger through that disgusting fluid: “You’re next.” Underneath the text laid two familiar, interconnected and marred bodies. His mother’s eyes, open and focused on the ceiling. His father’s, staring at his spouse. The savagery was no doubt the work of a Jinteki, shapeshifting machines with only a thirst for death.

Even though he’d seen others murdered by their robotic oppressors, nothing prepared him for this horror. He gagged, cupping his hand under his mouth as bile flowed past his lips. He pushed against the door. But it wouldn’t open. He banged on the glass until it shattered. He ignored the sharp stinging that plagued his hands.

Cautiously, he stepped out of the machine and avoided all the shards surrounding it. He couldn’t help but investigate the room, despite the rancid smell of corpses. Each person’s face he recognized as the ones who’d sent him off. All of them insisting he would arrive in a peaceful time.

He stopped by his parents’ bodies. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of them. His parents, the ones who loved him despite his childish faults. The ones who cared for him when he was injured or sick. The ones who consistently protected him from the very creatures that claimed their lives.

As a child, he had a better chance of surviving the journey. But, he was told he’d be sent a couple of days into the future. Bodies wouldn’t be this decayed after a couple days. As scientists, his parents always taught him to question everything. And questioning could come after mourning, but his curious nature would not allow him to cry any longer. His eyes darted around, landing on his father’s clenched fist. He hesitated before cautiously prying his father’s fingers apart, revealing a small, metal communication orb, the same device his parents used to leave him morning messages before school.

He swiftly grabbed the tool, ignoring its new, crimson paint job. Without hesitation, he pressed the tiny activation switch on the underside, barely flinching as a palm-sized, cyan-tinted hologram of his parents’ busts materialized. He adjusted his position, sat cross-legged, and placed the device in front of him. More tears threatened to fall and make good on that threat as the message began.

Both his parents, alive and well, stared straight through him, smiling like they sensed his presence.

“Hi, Michael,” his mother chirped, “If you’re getting this then…congratulations, you’re the first successful time traveler.”

His father smirked, “That or the Jinteki got to us.”

“Dear, please,” she lightly backhanded his shoulder as he laughed. “Michael, thank you so much for doing this. We lov-”

The lab door slid open suddenly. Michael waved his hand over the hologram, shutting it off, before scooting behind a table. He held his hand over his heart, willing it to still. A metallic clicking noise, like a raptor’s growl, rang in his ears. Michael froze.

“Michael? I know you’re in here…” Heavy footsteps slowly approached the boy’s hiding spot. Michael began to move away, but his arm was snagged by the intruder.

“Lemme go!”

As he was pulled to his feet, he swung a fist only for it to be caught as well. The child lifted his head. His eyes widened when they recognized the mischievous glint in the pair that stared back.

Michael gaped. “You’re…”

“You?” the stranger, the teenaged Michael, set the child down. “Welcome to the future.”

Young Michael frowned. “I… I thought…I was being sent days ahead, not years…and two of us can’t exist at the same time. That it would make the world implode.”

“If that was true, would your parents really send you to a time you definitely existed?” older Michael teased.

“But-”

The older Michael glanced towards the door before interrupting. “Why don’t we get out of here first before you ask questions?”

Before the child could respond, he was grabbed once more and dragged towards the door. He took one last look at his parents before the door shut behind them. They’d reached the end of the hallway when Michael restarted his questioning.

“How’d you know where to find me?”

“I remembered the date that I arrived in that lab. I spent five years trying to replicate the properties of that machine so that I could try preventing your parents’ deaths. But I didn’t have enough power to make it that far back…”

They turned the corner, approaching an elevator. The same metallic clicking noise from earlier echoed through the halls.

Young Michael tensed. “There aren’t Jinteki in the building, right?”

“There are.”

The child swallowed hard then frowned. “We’ll be safe from them…right?”

“You won’t.”

Young Michael’s eyes widened as he backed away. “You…”

He could hear the turning and hissing gears as his guide twitched and turned towards him. He watched in horror as it shed its faux skin, revealing a Jinteki. Pieces of the flesh remained stuck to its parts. Its eyes burned blood red. Its artificial skin rippled with that same shade, brightest at their chest core.

Even with its mechanical features, a maniacal grin was evident.

“With how intelligent your parents were, I’m surprised you didn’t catch on sooner.” The machine seized Michael by the neck. Their eyes met. “You’ll require a little update if you’re to be of use. There’s a bit of a shortage on viable suits.”

Michael watched as its other hand shifted into a syringe filled with a thick liquid. He backed away, tripping over debris. He choked and cried, “Please don’t…”

“You’ll come to thank me. In time.”

The syringe plunged into the child’s neck and his world went red.