Short story

Time travel was more serious than he’d thought it would be. Mostly because everything he knew about the past had come from contemporary entertainment media.

On arriving in the past, the first thing he’d noticed was that fashions were not like he’d thought they’d be from everything he’d seen on TV. And the way people talked was different too. The way people had looked at him when he’d tried to ask for directions had made his skin crawl with self-consciousness. It felt as though he were an alien visiting from a far away planet.

And when he’d used the phone at the motel… The bill had left him cringing. Because while it wasn’t a lot of money, it had taken a big chunk out of the money he had on hand. It wasn’t like he’d been able to get a hold of a lot of old fashioned money before he’d traveled back in time.

Even the size of the bills was different from modern money!

He hadn’t realized that phone calls charged per minute, and that $0.10 a minute really added up when he was trying to get complex concepts across to someone on the other side of the country while using a scratchy line that kept cutting in and out. He’d had to repeat himself so many times that he’d worried he’d lose his voice.

When he’d time traveled, he’d thought it was going to be easy.

Sure, there was no Internet or GPS and finding people or places involved using phonebooks, but he’d been confident in his ability to handle things. But once he was in the past, nothing was as easy as he’d thought it would be.

There were phone booths, but using them involved carrying around a pocketful of dimes. And when he’d stepped into his first one across the street from the bus station, he’d been surprised by how filthy it was. Putting the handset against his ear had quickly taught him to always wipe off phonebooth handsets before using them. He still cringed away from the memory of other peoples’ ear grease touching his skin.

And the cars.

Every single one released a cloud of exhaust that wreaked havoc with his asthma.

He’d been surprised on first seeing the sky during the day. There was a perpetual haze that left everything with a creepy orange hue that made him think of that old crank conspiracy about the sun being replaced.

He’d never experienced so much air pollution in his life. The air quality outside was terrible, and whenever he went into a public place the air was thick with clouds of cigarette smoke, to the point that his first visit to a diner had left him horrified by the reek and he hated the way the smell clung to his hair, skin, and clothes. He didn’t think his lungs were ever going to fully recover.

But at least he had completed his mission.

It was with a sense of relief that he returned to his own time. Where the sun was bright, the sky was clear, and he could draw in a deep breath without instantly feeling as though he were going to die from the pollution.

He cradled his smartphone against his chest and promised to never let it go.

Because while the future had its own difficulties to deal with, the past was not the utopia he’d fantasized it would be. TV and movies had lied to him. Or maybe he’d lied to himself by not learning about the little details about the past, the things they never focused on in time travel stories. The casual miseries that people back then were so used to that they didn’t even notice.

Starting at $0.10 a minute and stretching to encompass the horribly pervasive cigarette smell that was everywhere, giving the walls and the sky a yellowish tint that couldn’t be washed away no matter how hard he scrubbed his skin. He no longer fantasized about traveling back in time to make a fabulous life for himself. Instead, he was grateful he was born in the future where a loaf of bread cost more money, but where he could order anything he wanted online and have it delivered direct to his door.

Time travel was more serious than he’d thought it would be, but it had taught him to appreciate the moment he was in. Because the past was never as good as someone remembered it to be, and the future was never as bad as someone imagined it would be. It was the contemporary moments that mattered because they never lasted.

Time was always moving. And at $0.10 a minute, the bill would always add up, and would always need to be paid. So why not enjoy the moment he was in. The Now that would someday be looked back on as a Then.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

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https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

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Ever since the stranger had come to Burrow Town, life had never been the same.

There was a strange miasma. A sour but somehow sweet odor that pervaded everything, clinging to fabric and wood, seeping into brick, clinging to skin and hair. Or perhaps being produced from the blank-eyed townspeople, a result of what was happening within them. A vile biproduct of the monsters inside them.

Sammy had not understood what was happening at first. Why her parents had suddenly changed. Not until she had seen the wriggling white worm-thing being put into her older cousin.

She and her brother had hidden amongst the trees and had watched the horrifying process of her cousin being turned into one of those things. The sound of the older girl’s screams had hurt her ears and she had clutched her brother so hard that he had bruises on his arms later.

She hadn’t understood what was happening. Had never imagined that such a horror could ever exist. But her brother was a few years older and knew more than she did. Things their parents had told him but protected her from because she was too young.

Spirit worms. Demonic entities bred and controlled by spirit masters to be used to enslave humans.

They could only be used on those that had gone through puberty. Sammy’s youth was the only thing to protect her. And as a child she was seen as harmless–helpless–by the spirit master that had taken over Burrow Town.

She was years too young, but her brother was close to the "right age." It was only a matter of time before their not-parents would take him into the woods for the spirit master to put one of those things into. And then he wouldn’t be her brother anymore.

"We have to run away," Ren said.

Sammy bit her lip but nodded. They could not let Ren be turned into one of those things. "Where will we go?" she asked.

"We have to go to Crown City. Report to the authorities," Ren said. "The Judiciary has to know what is happening here. They will stop it."

"Can they fix it?" Sammy ask. "Can they take those things out and make Mommy and Daddy themselves again?"

Ren hugged her. "I don’t know. I hope so. But I don’t know."

Sammy sniffled. "You won’t turn into one of those things, will you? Please don’t leave me. I don’t want to be all alone."

"You’re not going to be alone. I’m going to be with you. I won’t let them put one of those things in me. I promise."

"Okay." She buried her face in his shirt, breathing in the scent of normal human skin, no sickly sweet sourness coming out of him.

"Tomorrow," Ren said firmly. "We’ll leave tomorrow morning. As soon as the sun comes up."

"Yes," she said. Those things didn’t like to out in the daylight. They would be out all night doing whatever it was the spirit master had them doing in the woods, then retreat into the house during the day.

Their not-parents being outside all night was the only thing that allowed Sammy to sleep at night. There was no way she would have been able to close her eyes if they were inside with her. Sitting so frighteningly still with their unblinking eyes that saw everything.

"We’ll have to leave fast," Ren said. "You’ll have to be very brave and you’ll have to keep up. Can you do that?"

"I can," Sammy said.

"Are you sure? I can’t carry you, Sammy." He pushed her away enough that he could look directly into her eyes. His expression was serious. "If I leave you here, they’re not going to hurt you."

She shook her head and grabbed onto him tighter. "Don’t leave me here, Ren. I’m scared of them. Please take me with you. Please. I promise I can run real fast. You won’t have to carry me. Just don’t leave me here."

"Okay. Tomorrow. We’ll go tomorrow," Ren said firmly, and hugged her again.

Sammy snuggled against her still-human brother and vowed to herself that she would not slow him down. Because while those creatures preferred to stay inside during the daylight hours, that didn’t mean they couldn’t go outside if they needed to. And they were fast, going from eerie stillness to sudden motion in a way that screamed "INHUMAN!"

"Let’s get some things ready for tomorrow," Ren said. "Then we can sleep a few hours before they come back. We have to be careful. We can’t let them see what we’re doing or that man will know."

Sammy shuddered. "I’ll be careful."

"Good." He kissed her forehead. "Come on. We can hide our supplies in the space under the stairs."

Sammy followed her brother around the house, creeping through the darkness as they didn’t dare to light a candle. There wasn’t much food left, but they took what wouldn’t be missed, along with some fishing hooks and string and a flint to start a fire. It would be several days journey to reach Crown City and they didn’t know how far that man had spread his worm monsters so they couldn’t trust any people along the way.

She had been scared for so long, but now there was a bit of hope. She and her brother would get far away from here and they would bring help back.

Hopefully they could save their parents and friends. And if not, at least they could stop that man from turning everyone into monsters.

Hopefully.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

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https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.

Sitting on a fence licking an ice cream cone. The heat of the flames warmed his face and took the dampness out of the air. His eyes were emotionless even as a slight smile curled his lips, giving his beautiful face a sweet appearance.

No one dared to speak to him. He would call on them when he wanted their attention. For now, he was watching the spectacle in front of him.

The burning of the city. The screams of the citizens a music to his ears.

He had thought that revenge would bring him joy, but now he knew that it was an inevitability. There was no reality where those that had harmed him would not taste the flames of his vengeance and rage.

Those that had destroyed his home and murdered his clansmen were now tasting the sweetness of his revenge.

He licked the ice cream, savoring the flavor of cream and spices.

When he was young, he was innocent and trusting. Filled with the joy of life.

Now that he was so old, he had become cold and brutal, forged in the fires of his rage. His memories the only sweetness left to him. The driving force that allowed him to sacrifice so much simply for this moment.

He had entered the military when he was ten years old. Had allowed himself to be forged into a blade for the Empire. And in return the Emperor had given him this moment. The screams. The wails. The blood. The torment. The complete obliteration of an entire city.

And he didn’t think it was a poor exchange.

His mother would be saddened by what he had done, what he had become, but he knew that his father and uncles would understand. When he saw them all in the afterlife, he hoped they would accept what he had become–a monster–and that they would still be able to hug him and kiss him with the same amount of love and affection as they had shown when he was young and pure. Innocent.

He licked a last bit of ice cream, then tossed the cone away before jumping off the fence. He glanced at his bodyguards. "Let’s go."

"Yes, Prince Consort," they chorused, falling in around him.

He had sacrificed the child he once was to become the man he was. And along the way he had caught the eye of the Seventh Prince who would become the Crown Prince. His husband. The man known as the God of War.

All for the sake of vengeance, he had sacrificed everything he used to be. And he didn’t regret it.

Refused to regret it.

What is, is. What could have been is a dream, he thought. A sweet beautiful dream I wish I had never been woken from.

Against a backdrop of flames and destruction, the beautiful Prince Consort walked to the command tent where his husband waited.

He had made his choices. He would not balk at them now.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

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https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

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https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

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P.S. I think the Seventh Prince is a transmigrator. He introduces ice cream and noodles and all kinds of modern things to this old timey fantasy world. And he falls in love with a beautiful orphan and to help the orphan get the revenge he’s so desperate for, in return for a marriage, he becomes known as the God of War and conquers a big chunk of the world.

From the darkness it came, and in the darkness it hid. The beast that had been haunting their town, stealing the young women from their beds with no trace only to leave their bloodless bodies to be found three days later.

The sound of mournful wails had become the music of the village. So many daughters lost. So many families destroyed.

The fog that had rolled in to encompass everything made it seem as though the world itself was showing that the village was cursed. There had been no sun for the last seven months. Everyone’s skin had become pale and wan, the despair seeping into their very beings, stealing the joy from life.

Those that tried to leave the village would find their paths blocked. They would reach the woods surrounding the village and it was as though the trees would move and block the way. Shadows writhing amongst the limbs and branches, rattling the leaves, making ghostly hissing sounds that would build a sense of horror.

The few villagers that tried to force their way through the forest… disappeared. Their screams and wails of pain and fear would be in the night’s wind before trailing into horrifying silence. Telling their families and friends that they were gone forever, likely dead.

Hopefully dead.

Because there were things in the darkness. Frightening things that would come in the night. Rattling windows and doors. Scratching at the wood and bricks. Pulling at the roof thatch until pieces of straw and mud would be scattered on the ground below, warning that something had been on the roof, trying to work its way inside.

There were so many empty houses in the village. So many missing–dead–villagers. The fear of what was happening made the air thick and hard to breathe. The scarce food made them thin and weak. The not-knowingness of it all made everything so much worse.

There had been those that had insisted the village had become the food of vampires, but that had turned out to be wrong. And those foolish enough to put their faith into what was known about vampires had quickly discovered the error of their ways when they met whatever it was lurking in the darkness.

It did not require an invitation to come in.

=END=

~Harper Kingsley

https://paypal.me/harperkingsley.

https://patreon.com/harperkingsley.

https://ko-fi.com/harperwck.

https://www.youtube.com/c/HarperKingsley.

https://amazon.com/shop/harperkingsley0.
https://www.harperkingsley.net/blog.
https://kimichee.com.

https://harperkingsley.bsky.social.
https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/HarperKingsley.