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AN: Here's a little dark tale for you on Friday the 13th. I made a playlist to go along with this story but it's not super specific to this story. Just some dark music. And there's some homemade art in the middle to go with this story too. I hope you all enjoy the short trip into the future!
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No matter how much we wish, they were real.
Copyright © 2022 Allison Achibane
All rights reserved.
Provecta Labs is seeking an adventurous individual for new aged travel system testing. No education or experience is needed. Clean background all that's required. High pay and full benefits.
That was what the ad said, and Blake answered it. Most would hesitate but not her. Not with her current bad luck in career choices. Blake had barely finished high school and went straight into the workforce. And it was a great move for her, making manager positions everywhere she went after a few months of hard work. But her latest job had massive layoffs with the recession, and Blake was a new hire.
What was supposed to be a promising new career with plenty of advancement opportunities turned out to be a joke. And Blake's old job had already been filled, so there was no going back.
So while others balked at the mysterious and eerie vibe, the listing gave off. And had no regrets when they told Blake the pay. It was three times what she made before and far less work. All she had to do was submit to regular physical exams, blood, urine, and a couple of CAT scans.
Oh, and she had to test out the time machine.
Blake was the mouse for Provecta's time travel device. She had seen the machine a few times already for practice runs and the so-called time machine was a large white room. The floor and ceiling were white tiles that shimmered in the fluorescent lighting. Nothing like the time machines in the movies Blake had watched.
All the scientists were very nice. Never once did Blake feel uncomfortable or belittled. It made it even harder to believe what they told her would happen.
"We're only going to send you twelve hours into the future, Blake," Dr. Turner, a calm woman with light grey hair, repeated, "that way, it's safe."
She always said that, but Blake didn't understand. What made a shorter time journey safer than a long one? Did it have something to do with all those theories in the movies about black holes?
Blake shook her head at the thoughts. It only made her ears burn with nerves. She was doing this. The check had already cleared the bank, and she needed that money. Anyone would take the funds in this day and age.
All Blake needed to do was follow the rules the scientists gave her. Six scientists, and they all said the same thing.
Rule one, no clothes. She had to do this in the nude. A middle-aged and balding man, Dr. Kells, said something about not mixing organic and non-organic in the machine. Blake didn't understand, but she'd seen The Fly and didn't question it.
Rule two, after she returned, Blake had to go into twenty-four-hour quarantine. No one explained this except to say, "time contamination precautions," whatever that meant. Blake wasn't sure what virus she could bring back from twelve hours in the future, but she wasn't paid to ask questions.
The final rule was the only one Blake sort of got. She wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone. Not even herself. Blake doubted she would see herself. If the time movies got it right, Blake would proof away in a cloud of smoke and a tremble if she saw her future self. Was it really the future? It was twelve hours, and everyone acted like it was twelve years!
Blake wasn't sure twelve years was enough to make a difference or cause contamination.
She wasn't the one with all the degrees. Or the willpower to find out. Blake would take the scientists' words as law and follow them strictly without a fight. With today being THE day, Blake was set to follow every rule and regulation without struggle.
Her flip-flops popped loudly in the otherwise empty hall. Dr. Turner was at her side, leading her into the room . . . the machine. Even though she owned her pair, the flip-flops were Provecta provided. Same as the thin robe Blake wore for modesty. Blake wasn't a showy person, and she didn't love attention. But she understood the rules of this test and didn't fight the no-clothing regulation.
However, Blake also got the problem of her walking around the dark halls in the buff.
The building was a small tin hut on the outskirts of town, and it was all Provecta property. Blake hadn't seen anyone else in the building besides the seven of them, so she had to assume they were alone. It made sense, given the paranoia the group had. Another rule was that Blake wasn't allowed to speak to anyone during the trials. Or after. She had even signed a non-disclosure agreement. The scientists barely talked to her, and she knew nothing of how anything worked, but sure, Blake was a threat to their payday. Who would believe her? Especially when asked about the future, her only response is, "Oh, I only went twelve hours ahead".
It was pointless to worry about Blake, but she wasn't there to ask questions or fight the system.
Placed in the center, Blake slowly removed her robe. Dr. Turner took it from her and joined the others on the other side of the wall. It had a rectangle glass for them to look in and watch her. There was no required position for Blake to be in, just that she was alone and naked in the middle of the room. And with so many eyes on Blake's nude body, she chose to wrap her arms around her chest and crouch. It was the only way to cover as much of her body as possible. In her position, she could still the faces of the scientist as they watched her studiously.
No one mentioned what it would feel like to jump time. Blake imagined it would be painful or weird. The scientist said nothing, maybe so they didn't frighten Blake. Either that or they had no clue what it felt like. Saying nothing made it worse as every muscle in Blake's body tightened with terror-filled tension. Only masochists like pain, and Blake wasn't one, flinching as the countdown from five lowered to one.
A loud pop echoed around, making Blake jump. That hurt, her tense muscles flexing when they couldn't move. The pain faded, and nothing more happened. Blake had closed her eyes off to the sensations, slowly opening them when the stillness became too much. The first thing she noticed was the lack of eyes on her. The scientists' faces were no longer in the window.
Carefully, Blake lifted out of her crouch, staring at the window unblinking. But there was no one there. "Hello?"
Blake's voice cracked like it was dry. If this worked, it had been twelve hours since her last sip of water. She was supposed to stay silent, let them look her over, then send her back. The whole process was to take an hour, and the scientists had been antsy about that time frame. She heard Dr. Kells talk about taking too long. So the fact that no one, especially Dr. Kells, was rushing out to her with needles was strange.
There wasn't a sound on either side of the wall, and Blake was tired. It was almost like she'd walked the twelve hours to get here. Her steps were weak, and her body shook, but Blake was ready to dig into these scientists for giving her such a hard time and then not being there to greet her. No-one stopped her as she left the machine and entered the booth.
"They really must not be there", Blake thought, getting angrier with each step.
She opened the scientists' rat hole door to slip and land on her back immediately. Her legs had completely come out from under her. There was something on the floor, and it coated her backside entirely now. The arms and legs, too, trying to get up on her feet again. Any understanding of what the stuff was washed away, Blake finally made eye contact with Dr. Turner. Only Dr. Turner was on the floor, looking blankly at Blake. And her green eyes were dull and almost grey.
Dr. Turner's mouth was parted, but no air came from it. It hung open in a horrified gasp that was released a while ago. Blake's eyes left the woman's face and searched her body on instinct. Dr. Turner had a deep hole in her chest.
A strangled cry escaped Blake's lips, and she returned to trying to get to her feet. She managed to sit up, finding Dr. Kells with his throat slit at her feet. Blake couldn't see the wounds on the others, but all six scientists were there, vital fluid pooling from the lifeless bodies of the only people that could send Blake back home.
Blood. Blake had slipped in their juices. She was covered in it. And now, Blake was choking, a scream begging to come out. Her eyes watered, blurring her sight. Blake forced herself to look away and get out of the gore immediately. Once on her feet, Blake found the wall covered in sanguine from the massacre around her. But some hemoglobin was purposeful, a handprint lingering from where someone wrote a message.
"Sorry," is what it said. The wall bled with the word Sorry. That was the only thing the scientists had to say to her, to the one they left stranded in the future.
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