Don't blink.

                                                        Chapter 1

                                          The precursor

December 3rd, 1948

The abnormal cracking of dead wood, the ice cold wind rushing through the leafs like fowl hands rubbing against Gaia’s bosom, and not even the chill up his spine could persuade an expression of consciousness to escape him. Not today, not on this of all days. The fireplace burned anonymously out of the corner of his eye, the faintest fire if there ever was one, enough so to light the oak wood walls in the old Professor’s study, yet to this day it was in all probability the only fire from which warmth was wanting. A dim shadow was being cast upon the ceiling above him; a silhouette the Professor could swear was not his to call his own, were he not the only one in that damned place.

An old neglected lamp was placed in front of Professor Van Nostrand, unfortunate the eyes to such a spectacle for if there was a word to describe the effect of the light upon his face, repulsion would be most appropriate. Professor Van Nostrand had an ill way about him, diseased, though no disease could be used to describe such a view of this being projected from this mass of protoplasm. It could be that his hair was to thin or his cheekbones to pronounced, it could be his arms were to long for his body or even that his bones were wanting of flesh, it could be his eyes were but a cough away from falling out of their sockets. He, the Professor, was wrong in every way, yet nothing could be declared as not right, malformed though not disfigured, anatomically incorrect but nothing out of place, it was but evident this man was visually displeasing. But whatever the reason, it was at length not an appearance to impose upon the faint of heart.

The Professor had scattered on the table what seemed a collection of modern as well as ancient science books and journals, everything from Leonardo da Vinci to Nikola Tesla and Albert Einstein, from ancient Mayan astronomy to Isaac Newton and Galileo. A couple of open tomes and sketches laid before him with a fair amount of his own notes attached to them, some volumes were piled up on a chair beside him; this last stack for the most part had dangerously worn out spines and one could not help but agree, these literary works of art have had their lifetimes use doubled to say the least. Several fanatical essays on Atlantis, that of which included a very detailed and studied highlight of Plato’s thoughts on the matter, Dante Alighieri’s beliefs on Hell’s mechanics, were such a detailed description could be taken as a very convincing eye witness testimony, theories of Hitler’s involvement with supernatural forces, various theories on apocalyptic prophecies that included that of Fatima, Nostradamus and Mayan revelations.

His glasses as it was too expected, were hanging on by the tip of his nose, for his ears gave out hours ago from the weight of the thick spectacles. He had been fixated on a single drawing for the last couple of hours, as best as it could be described it looked like a vertical cylinder with round ends and held in place by a metallic hourglass-like structure (two flat square surfaces held together by four pillars at each corner) with several hundred wires were attached to it.

He placed a book on top of the stack and placed it on top of the drawing and started flipping through it, every page was but a flash to untrained eyes, little he was aware that the previous page had not fallen to gravity when the next one was already being lifted, book after book he sat down back on the pile as if he already knew every chapter, every paragraph and line by heart, he did however have a desperate look upon his face, surprisingly enough it was the least displeasing and most honest sight you could ask from him. He sat there nearly two hours and not being able to remember if he managed to blink or not (not that he cared at this point) he closed the last book with what looked like satisfaction manifested in the form of a wide smile, offensive in nature.

”It is perfect!” he exclaimed at last in a tone that implied the comment was for his ears only. He leaned back on his chair and allowed his left arm to fall while his right removed the heavy frames from his eyes and abruptly placed them on top of the table. He rubbed his eyes slowly as if massaging them after a hard day’s work and deserving of a semi gentle touch. His eyes wide open, his body, stiff, like a bucket of cold water had been emptied over his head, his lungs fell short of collapsing, his heart halted as he heard a loud bell resonate within the walls, the sound faded within some seconds, but the feeling of being inside a contraption that would make even the Spanish inquisition seem like child’s play, did not. It was the grandfather however which had given him this almost fatal reaction. He had heard it thousands of times before but never like this, for the clock had never announced this particular hour on this particular day, for today had never come to pass and would certainly never present itself for a second time. His attention fell upon the minute hand which seemed oddly out of place, the clock announced the hour, which should have marked 11:00 o’clock in the evening, oh! But not today.

The hour was 10:58 in the evening, the clock had announced the hour two minutes ahead of time since three months past. He did however notice it on this day. He looked at it with an expression which could only be described as denial; he walked closer to it until he was about one foot apart from the time piece and stared at it, as if demanding an explanation from the mechanical.

His eyebrows contracted and his forehead wrinkled, his nostrils opened wide, his throat passing what little saliva it had stored, he felt the main spring force the hand to strike 10:59 and with what seemed like a Spartan war cry he yelled at the top of his lungs ”you mock me? You think I am a fool?!” he walked back and forth with a lab rat pattern as he lectured the clock, he pressed his palm against his forehead as if applying pressure ”you think I do not know what I have done?”

“Captain Nemo was wrong I say” he said while looking into a void ”mankind will never be ready. They will never see beyond their needs. I have to do this” he then leaned his head on the clock, grabbed it by the sides and rested beneath the moon dial, and he began to sob ”I am not a madman I tell you … I am no fool … there was never a choice” he added with low tired voice, and with closed tear dripping eyes hopelessly awaited an answer.

All he heard has but inevitable; his heart, beating to the rhythm of a deadline …

 …Tic, tock, tic, tock … cluc! Tic, tock, tic, tock … cluc!

Without regret, without remorse

in this life and the next, I am forever yours

I’m happier than I’ve been in for so long, just so happy you know? You can’t fathom how happy I am, for finally after so many years I am happy again, I can sleep now, because I know you’ll be there when I close me eyes, because I know that I get to see you when I come home and kiss you all night long when I sleep.

After so many years, I fear waking up, I fear not dreaming, I cry at the missed opportunity of sleep, never have I loved and hated the existence of a fellow human being at once, just say good-by … and I’ll dream of you no more.

Do you know how sexy you are, do you know what you stir up inside me whenever I think of your entity? Can you fathom the idea of not being able to reach you still? Have you the slightest clue of what you represent in my reality? … . do you know how much that fall short as to how happy I am for you?

I saw a girl and fell in love with her instantly, we might go on a date someday when she notices me :]