Murdering the Future

The air parted with a whooshing popping noise just like when people used to fly in airplanes, but this was without the head-throbbing earsplitting pain normally accompanied by that mode of transport, and to his complete unsurprise Anthony found himself standing in a monochrome cobblestone alley on a dreary night somewhere in London 1888. Amazed by how shiny the streets were, it’s only rain he mumbled to no one in particular looking at his watch just as a raindrop fell onto the glass making the numbers warp in a strange manner that temporarily entranced him.

The streets were mercifully empty and he stepped out of the alley onto what must have been a main street. I wish they would clue me up on where and when I’m going, a map might be useful. He understood well the reasons for minimal information and even less baggage when you travel anywhere especially in this manner.

The mission was simple, go back in time and demotivate Jack the Ripper , not prevent him from killing or actually physically stopping him as that would cause a problem with the whole time paradox and all that business that Anthony never really quite got the grasp of but he was always careful not to upset the gentle balance. Looking again at his watch and then up to the streetsign above him he realized that he was well within the time frame and close to where he should be.

All around was silence……..silence and fog, every now and again he heard a noise in the distance, unrecognizable by the filtering effect of the fog, the distance and perhaps even the fact that in his own time these sounds probably didn’t exist. Behind him a strange hollow knocking sound became apparent, several minutes passed as he listened to it get closer. Knock..knock Knock…knock it continued and then he realized it was a horse and carriage. Looking back into the fog he recognized the outline and was somewhat taken aback. Perhaps it was empty or the occupant had no particular hurry to get wherever they were going, the horse happy to oblige as it trudged slowly through the night until finally some 100yards ahead the carriage stopped and a figure emerged into the night, bade the carriage driver goodnight and turned down the alley where Anthony was fated also to follow. Slowing his pace so as not to appear he was following the dark figure in front of him, he looked at his watch, difficult to see in the shadowy side street so he stopped and lifted his arm to see better. Five minutes before he was due to be at the end of this grimly dark orifice into the unknown and the start of his mission.

Stepping around the corner Anthony became aware of the silence once again and suddenly the darkness seemed to loom out of the fog. An icy stroke across his throat; he made a gurgling gasp as he recognized the perpetrator and also the realization that the future was dead.

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