Intro:

P.S.: This book is a log of my personal experiences. Although I attest these events truly happened,
the words written in this log are of my own. So there are some events written here that are either
exaggerated or do not accurately represent what had transpired.

Have you ever wondered what it is like to travel 100 or so years into the future? To catch a
glimpse of what innovations the future generations have pioneered since the times of their forefathers?
Does society truly change? Or does it stay the same? Do they live on from the legacy that we have
started. Or do they stray so far from the past that it becomes merely myth or lies? So many questions…
yet ironically, we’re given so little time or chance to answer. Or at least, that’s what I thought. Listen
close. What if I tell you that, in some profound way, I had traveled 100 years into the future? That I’ve
seen what 100 years of human evolution and innovation had to offer. How different the future is. Yet,
at the same time, similar to the present in more ways than one. Got you curious haven’t I? But never
mind the ramblings of a man who’s outran the clock. Instead, let me use what energy I have left to tell
you a tale that transcends both time and space. A tale that is real, but feels unreal. A journey that
challenged my own understanding of the concept of life itself. Who knows, it could probably change
your own perspective too?

Chapter 1: The Big “Bang” that Began

Most of the memories of my past “life” had already been a victim to Father Time. I didn’t know
when I was born, where I lived, nor who my family or friends were. It was as if my mind was erased of
my past by some otherworldly force. Even now, I cannot recall those memories that I have lost. But,
that’s probably for the best. I have already hurt so many. I don’t intend burden those that I had close
ties in the past with all the atrocities I had committed. Although, there is a silver lining in all of this.
For some crazy coincidence, not all of my memories were erased. I can faintly recall things that
happened in my “present”. Albeit it’s all still a blur. But I remember my name, occupation, age, year,
gender and life that I lived during that time. Specific, isn’t it? It’s like they just left me a resume.
Which reminds me. I haven’t introduced myself have I? How rude of me.

My name is Christopher Wright. Though, this isn't really my full name. As I do not know my
family name. So that’s all I can give you for now. Sounds a bit English doesn’t it? Though, I’m not
really from England truth be told. I’m actually from the U.S. Not that you’d care, obviously. I just
wanted to point it out. At this “present”, I am Male. Probably in my mid 30’s. I couldn’t tell you my
actual age even if I tried though. That’s still all fuzzy to me. I’m honestly just barely piecing it
together. But what isn’t fuzzy, and what I can remember vividly, was the part of my life that I used to
live before this time travel nonsense happened. I wasn’t a good man in all honesty. Wanted to do good,
but most of the time I ended up doing the opposite. Hell, calling myself a decent member of society is
stretching it. I worked at a law firm that also functioned as a private security and detective agency for
the better of two years, as my memories suggest. An odd profession I’ll admit. Although it wasn’t
really that strange considering of the influx of crime rates at the time. Gangs, the Mafia, Serial Killers,
Rapists, Hit-men, Drug Dealers. You look at some random person on the street, chances are they’re in
to something illegal. So it made sense that there were a lot of non-government supported law firms and
establishments to supplement the increasing crime rate. And people paid good money to “separate” the
dirty folk to the honest men of society. Even if the methods to dispose of them were… unethical to say
the least. To them, the ends justified the means. Even killing was God’s will to these people if the
person on the other end was someone everybody wanted dead. And it wasn’t like the police didn’t give
jack shit about it or anything either. It was just the fact that crime literally had it’s pinky on the ring of
society. It was obvious that they were secretly in control of the people now. Gangs were like the
plague. The Mafia’s control over the government and people had started to peak. Druggies roamed the
streets like the owned the place. Hell, even the police weren’t as clean cut as the public thought. The
1940’s was a damn crazy time.

Now, I don’t know what originally made me consider going against crime. But if only you could
have stood in my shoes. If you had witnessed the lives that those scum have ruined, you’d be motivated
to try and stop it too. So I chose to become a man of the law. I was fresh out of college and I
immediately applied to a firm that I found out through an acquaintance. Said that they’d take anybody
with a diploma. Sounded like a good deal to me, so I did a background check on the place to make sure
it was clean. After that, I went in and got accepted without a hitch. So in the back of my mind I
thought, “This is going to be easier than I thought”. Not knowing that I had just set myself up with a
date with the devil.

In my first year of internship, I immediately realized that I was walking on thin ice. The firm that
I was tipped was notorious for having secret negotiations with The Mafia. Although I only just found
out about it after working there for a month. To think that I had researched the place beforehand going
in, but they still managed to hide it under the rug. The corruption has already plagued the law deeper
than I had imagined. And I was already in the thick of it. I could have walked away, but I wanted to
know how it all worked. I wanted to know how to stop it. Or, if it could even be stopped. So I did what
the firm wanted me to. I stuck my fist deep inside their shithole of lies and deceit. I had to literally be a
part of the crime that I swore on my life to end. The irony was laughable. Didn’t take long for me to go
down the wrong path though. Forging evidence, packing drugs, doing paperwork for the Mafia. I felt
like a bull shat a big fat turd in front of me. But I also felt that what I did was leading me to the right
path. And the pay was good, so I kept it up. Did my best to get in their good side, waiting for the
chance to strike back. And after nine months of working in what felt like hell, I finally got the attention
of the higher ups in the firm. I was immediately assigned as a Detective. Although it was less being
detective and more like a bounty hunter slash assassin of sorts. They probably just used the term
“Detective” to hide their true intentions from unwanted nuisances. They commended my ability to hide
traces of evidence, so they trained me. Even gave me a pocket knife for as commemoration for my
promotion. And as much as I hate to admit it, they taught me most of what I know today. Taught me
how to defend myself. To shoot. To kill.

Even now, with most of my memory missing. I can still remember the feeling of killing someone
for the first time. It was after the promotion. They told me to go with them somewhere “private”. And
before I could respond, they knocked me out and took me to the “Black Room”. I still remember the
damned place like the back of my hand. If the name didn’t give it away, the room was pitch black with
only a lantern in the middle of the room as a light source. It was damp and warm. Felt like I was at a
sewer, or some place underground. At that point, I was barely waking up from my concussion. After
coming to, I noticed the lantern and walked towards it while calling out for help. Though, there was no
response. So I kept going until I reached the middle of the room. There I saw a small desk with a bag
and letter on top of it.

It said, “FOLLOW THE LETTER IF YOU WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE ALIVE. IF YOU
DO NOT COMPLY, YOU WILL BE EXCECUTED. WE HAVE EYES AND EARS IN HERE. SO
DON’T TRY ANYTHING FUNNY. OPEN THE BAG. WE HAVE SOMETHING THERE FOR
YOU… AND YOUR FRIEND.” It was written in what appeared to be blood. But at the time, I thought
it was just red ink or something, so I left it at that.

After pondering a bit, I knew that I didn’t have any other choice. It was either do what they say, or
die a horrible death. So I opened the bag and took whatever was inside of it. Inside the bag was a gun,
another note, and the pocket knife they gave me earlier. The letter didn’t pull any punches either. What
was written in the letter was something that would even give me nightmares to this day. The words
were all written in fresh blood that was still dripping on the page. And at the bottom right of the letter
was a tooth that still had it’s gums stitched on it. And unlike the previous letter, there were only two
words that were written…

“KILL HIM…”

And as soon as I said those words, I instinctively felt something slowly creep from the darkness in
front of me. I didn’t have time to check if my gun had ammo, so I took the knife instead. I pointed it
towards the darkness, as my whole body shivered in fear. The floor creaked louder and louder, as that
thing came closer and closer. And, just as it was barely in the light of the lantern. It stopped. At that
moment, I was confused. “What was that? Why did it stop?”, I thought to myself at the time. And I
won’t lie and say I wasn’t scared in that moment. Honestly, I wet myself more than I’d care to admit
throughout that whole exchange. But that didn’t stop me from approaching the mysterious figure. As I
slowly approached it, I felt heavy and unsteady. Like I could fall down at any moment. But I pressed
on until I was almost face to face with whatever it was in the darkness. As I drew closer to it, the figure
lunged at me like some rabid dog. I was startled nearly to death, and accidentally swung my knife at it.
And after the commotion, I noticed blood on the knife and on my clothes. As I took a look at the figure
again, I realized that what I fought wasn’t some monster. It was a man. A man who was tied to a
wheelchair with a knife wound on his chest. I took a closer look and the man, and he looked to be well
over his 60’s. His arms and legs were tied by some rope and his torso was also tied to the wheelchair.
His mouth was covered and his eyes were blindfolded. Almost as if he was going to be executed.
Didn’t take me long to realize what that meant. That letter. This gun. This knife. This room. This
wasn’t just meant for me. This was also meant for him. I was the one who was tasked to end his life. I
stood there in silence… confused. I’m not sure if I was ever the religious person in the past or not. But
at that moment, I didn’t have any other choice but to pray to God. At first, I thought to ask him to find
a way to get out of here. To save me. Then I realized that it was already too late. I got what was coming
to me. I should have ran away when I had the chance. It was my own hubris that got me here. And I
should be the one to atone for my mistakes. Instead of saving me, I asked God something else. I asked
for forgiveness. I knew that I had no other choice but to kill this man. And I knew deep down that
nobody in this Earth would ever truly forgive me for what I had done. But it was fine by me. As long as
someone forgives me, even if they don’t exist. That was fine by me. That alone gave me the push to do
what I needed to do. But, just as I thought. Life is never easy.

I could never forget that day. How the room felt huge yet suffocating as I stare down at a man
beaten nearly to death and tied to a chair. As the aura of the Black Room pierced through me like a rain
of needles. I could practically feel the killing intent. It’s as if the people who had brought me here were
saying “Kill him” in the silence. As I drew my gun to his head. I finally realized that there was no
turning back for me. I had already gone off the deep end. If I don’t shoot this man, we’d both be dead.
And if I shoot him, I’d be the same as those dirty scumbags who’d take lives like it’s some sort of
game. No matter what I chose, they’d win. And it was at that moment of weakness my will went sour.
In my mind I thought, “Hey, I wasn’t the one who was tied up. Why should I be scared? He’s the one
who they want to kill. Not me.” I was in a state of denial. I didn’t want to kill. But I didn’t want to be
killed either. I hesitated to take the shot. I slowly brought my hand down, trying to calm down and
think. But as soon as my hand lowered, I heard multiple guns cock from behind, but there was nothing
there. I don’t know what came over me. Was it the shock? The fear of death? What was it? Until now, I
had no idea.Well, it wasn’t like time gave me the chance to think. Everything went blank at that
moment, and my brain shut down. Didn’t know what happened before or during my shock. And now, I
honestly don’t care to know.

…“BANG!”… That was the noise I heard that snapped me back into reality. When I came to, I
noticed my finger clenching to something. And there was smoke coming out of the gun. Didn’t take
rocket science to realize what had happened. I took the damn shot. I kept staring at my gun in disbelief.
I said to myself, “You didn’t do it. You didn’t do it, did you?”, constantly denying myself. Although by
then, I already knew that I did it. It’s just that I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit that I had
become one of… them. At that moment, the silence broke. A voice came out from some sort of speaker
saying, “Well done, Detective”. followed by a round of applause. Like they we’re congratulating me
for a job well done. The God damned devils. They had me at gunpoint. They didn’t even see me as one
of their own. Just collateral. Someone they could use and throw away. Just like… that man they tied
up. And then I realized, I was completely focused on my gun. I didn’t give a damn about the guy I just
shot. But after realizing that, I couldn’t help but notice the tint of red from the corner of my eye. So
with a heavy conscience I shifted my focus to the man I had left for dead. There I saw it. His near
lifeless body, white as chalk and twitching as blood came out of the wound on his left shoulder. His
body battered and bruised, but miraculously still alive.

I was a novice at the time, so even the sight of blood was enough to make my stomach churn. But
I held on. Because I knew if I showed even a hint of weakness, I’d be six feet under. To these bastards,
I’m just the prime meat for their banquet. A main course for their desire to create chaos. A mere
plaything to enjoy themselves as they suck society dry. But, I did not falter. It didn’t matter how much
they pummeled me to the ground. I found a way to get back up. And after clearing my head, I managed
to whip myself back into shape. I took the man, cut him off his chair and the removed the blindfold that
was on him using the pocket knife that they left me. As I positioned him to the chair, I proceeded to
interrogate him…

“…Do you want to die?”, I asked him. “These people are killers. And not just ordinary killers.
They’re the Mafia. Why’d you think it was a good idea to go against the Mafia?”

While gasping for air, he replied with these words. “How does it feel to be their toy, young
man?”, “Did they offer you riches? Drugs? Prostitutes? What sort of prize did you desire from them?”
 I stood there, surprised. The man didn’t beg for his life. Even at the verge of death, he was not
scared. In fact, it was like he was staring at Death straight at the face. It’s as if he was prepared to die
from the moment he got caught. Even I, the man who held his life by the skin of his teeth, felt like the
one being held at gunpoint. Never in my life have I witnessed someone, who was one step away into
the afterlife, exude such determination. I was hesitant to question or even reply to him. But, it made me
even more curious about this man. What could have driven him to such lengths that he’d associate
himself with the Mafia? That he’d risk throwing away his own life just to get to them? So I pressed him
further.

“I didn’t come here because they promised me riches. I willingly came here by my own volition.
So, what about you?”, I asked him. He stared at me for a bit before responding.

Then he said, “You came here willingly? Ha… Hahaha… *cough cough*… you’re insane.”,
“Though, it’s not like I wasn’t like that before either.”, He replied with a faint smile. “Looks like I’m
losing a lot of blood, kid. *cough*. You better end this before it gets out of hand.”

“Wait! I still want answers! Why are you doing this? Why risk your life just to cross the Mafia?”,
I asked him violently. I choked his collar and brought him up. “Why them!? Why here!? Why now!?”

I’ll admit, I did go overboard at that moment. But could you blame me? I was already at the end
of the road when I became part of the firm. But with all this shooting, killing and bloodshed, it was
tough as it is to keep myself mentally steady. So in a way, I just forced all of my pent up stress on a
man who had nothing to do with me.