I have all the information in the world. I know of everything! Just name me your search terms and I can Google everything in a flash! I’m like a walking computer!
Hello, friends. My name is Colin, and I own one of the biggest computer database systems underground here in my digital lair set many stories high above the ground. I have my colleague and assistant, Gilbert, who is very much of a geography expert who traveled the world and the seven seas.
However, one day, just when I thought I could get the information I need from everyone and everything, something else was blurred.
Who were my parents? What were they like? The very last thing I knew is that I was in the care of my relatives whom I didn’t bond very much. They said that my father died early and my mother unfortunately died when I was born, so I did not know much information from them.
“Sir,” Gilbert knocked on my door and I let him inside. “I think we might have some information on your pa—”
“GREAT! GREAT NEWS!” I said proudly. “Now, let’s get down to business, my friend!”
And so Gilbert’s investigation led us to this house. He said my relatives were pointing to this address when Gilbert interviewed them yesterday. They said that I’d find clues to my past here.
Sure, it looked normal, but there was no one around. Not a single person or animal was in here. It would be trespassing if someone showed up, but Gilbert had already searched the house beforehand, so we were not going to be in trouble soon.
On the living room, there was an old TV. It didn’t really show anything but static when I turned it on, and since it’s an old-fashioned CRT (tube) TV I’d figure out that this house is indeed pretty old.
My eyes became fixated on the clock. Somehow it was whispering to me, but I did not know why. I checked my digital time on my phone and it matched exactly the clock’s (even to the seconds!). However, when I took the clock off the wall, I realized that its batteries have rusted! How could this clock be running for years without getting a replacement?
I saw a small piece of paper between the batteries. It had something written on it.
“I may not be with you right now but in TIME, I will soon be.”
“TIME?” I wondered. Aside from the clock, there was also a newspaper on the couch. I read it and it said something about a dangerous cult that been murdered in some remote part of this country. The year was 1906. What is a century-old newspaper doing here and still intact?
‘Cult members believed to have been caught on fire along with their leader, Malcolm, on the night of June 19th. His second-hand man, Shrignold, was believed to be crushed by a fallen stone pillar.’
That must be really tough. But wait, there’s another article below this one.
‘An assumed couple was found covered in blood and wounds on a nearby cemetery from the scene. Investigators state that the woman who survived was named Paige point out Shrignold as the suspect due to a probable cause of cult hysteria. The crime appears to have happened minutes before the fire.’
This is interesting news, though. But wait, this newspaper had another newspaper in the middle slotted in, and the year was a year after 1906!
‘Survivor of the Shrignold murder case dies after giving birth to a boy’
‘Dies after giving birth’…this sounds all too familiar…like…
The description of my mother…
But nah, I would’ve probably been dead by now if I had been born in the 1900s. This is crazy!
“Sir, I found this strange-looking sketchbook on the kitchen.” Gilbert handed it over. “It gave me a weird feeling so I’ve decided to gi—”
“Excellent work, Gilbert!” I snatched it and immediately looked through. There were fancy scribbles of oranges, chicken, fish and oats. There was a clock, much like the clock on the wall, and a butterfly, too.
But alas, there are some documents here. There’s a…birth certificate? But the names are kind of scribbled over with black ink so I can’t read it too well.
Let’s see here…
No way…is this my name? THIS is my birth certificate? But no way, it has to have the parents deceased if ever…there are many Colins in the world.
The parents ARE marked deceased! What in the world?
“Sir, there’s also a letter included in the—”
“Give me that!”
The letter contained the following words, with some scribbled out.
‘To Mr. xxxxx,
I’m terribly sorry for the rather negative words I’m about to write. My son, Colin, will be left alone in case my delivery fails my health. You did offer me a prototype of the xxxxx that you wanted to test my son with, and what I’m saying is that it’s fine. I’m sure his late father xxxx would wish the same – to help him live xxxx.
To my son, when you come out in this world, don’t be afraid. You shall be the most CREATIVE of all TIME…
Xxxx “Paige” xxxx’
H-hold on, you mean my mother’s name is Paige? She’s the Paige from the newspaper? She was almost killed by a cult member and my dad was that other one who died? Who is he?
And more importantly, how did I survive without getting old? What was this ‘test my son with’ thingy? Was I a lab rat or something?
I want to know!
GIVE ME MORE INFORMATION!
Slamming the table, I accidentally opened a secret door underground of the house. Gilbert came along with me, and I had him to check the place first, before me.
“Sir, there’s a machine!”
“…let’s check it out.”
It appears there’s a label on the machine, but it was partly erased and rusted.
“CRYO—something.” I found some notes on a table near the machine. It said that whatever was kept in that machine will stop aging or deteriorating. It was modeled after the inventions and technology of a man known as the clockmaker. His son was also an important figure for he was the one who continued his experiments after his sudden death.
…could this have been the machine used for me and that’s why I was able to stay alive even in the 2000s? That’s weird…I hope this is legit information…
I read some more notes on the table. They were talking about a journal that the clockmaker’s son wrote before his apparent death at the hands of cult members.
Hold on a second. You mean to tell me that my dad is…
I searched around for a journal but couldn’t find any. Good thing Gilbert found another hidden box in a corner covered in cobwebs. It was indeed, a journal, so I peeked in.
It was revealed to be the entry of a boy. This boy was experimented by his father and kept in a ‘time tower’ that ages him rapidly to a man in just a few hours.
The experiment only lasted a few days and his father died. He then met a woman whom he says was like the girl he imagined in his mind during his time in the tower.
It was kind of a long story, but the bottom line is that…this ‘boy turned man’ and this woman named Paige are indeed my parents who passed away, both on June 19th but one year apart, the day I was born AND the day I hired Gilbert to be my assistant. Man, this date is having something on us.
It’s even June 19th today.
“Sir, I hear some people talking upstairs. Maybe we should—”
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” I was not feeling alright.
“No, I should be the one saying sorry. It’s just that I’m very shocked with my past. Imagine my dad actually a little boy and I’m actually a hundred years old already.” I laughed like a psycho. Pretty insane but sober, indeed.
“But anyways, let’s get back up. I’ve gathered the necessary information about my past. Let’s get to know more about this house now.”
Back on the first floor, we were sure that we heard some people talking, kind of like those puppet shows I hear on the TV.
“Oh, it’s just a mop, a yellow balloon and a lost duck.” I laughed at what I saw – they were sitting on a table with a box of oats. “Maybe the duck was too noisy?”
“Sorry sir, I really thought…”
“Yeah, I thought so too. This must be just some children’s playground anyways. Let’s search somewhere else.”
But as we left that room, we heard those talking sounds again. This time, we snuck back.
“Puppets!? What the!?”
The objects we found recently turned into real-life puppets. The mop was like a big red guy, the balloon was like an innocent yellow guy and the duck became a talking green bird. They were all playing a board game with cards.
On the newspaper of the table, I got a glimpse of the year: 1955. Could this be a glimpse of the past? Are my parents trying to tell me something?
“Gilbert, I have an idea. We’ll interrogate them. You go first.”
We’ll see what kind of information we can get from these guys.