Tally

    A shiver coursed through Felix's frail body. It was always so bloody cold in that accursed cell. Coughing erratically, the overwhelming mustiness of the cell invading his mouth and nostrils, his gnarly fingers scrabbled over the smooth stone floor, searching.

    The dark was absolute, but, in his mind's eye, Felix could picture the room perfectly. The raggedy mat he slept on every night in the corner. The tiny crater to the left of the wooden door, the only blemish on the slick floor. The needle prick of a hole reaching through the barrier between his cell and the one directly beside it. It had been empty for years, ever since the man who had occupied it – the only friend Felix ever had after the fateful night long ago – was dragged out and taken to where he would have surely been executed. Felix hadn't seen any of it, but the yells his friend had called out still haunted him, begging for his life, no matter how awful it was in those dungeons.

    Finally, Felix's palm passed over what he had been searching for, a tiny rod of iron. It wasn't sharp, just a thin piece of cylindrical shape and only a couple inches long.

    With a sigh, Felix dragged his decrepit body to the western wall. He ran a hand over the stone, feeling for the grooves he had dug into the wall everyday. One mark, one day. The wall was so covered by them that its smooth texture had been entirely lost to the marks.

    He scraped the iron against the stone where it was still empty of grooves, adding one more.

    Work done, he tossed the piece away, leaving it to be found again the next day.

    Lowering himself to the mat, he drifted off into a restless sleep.

---

    He slept through the rest of the day and far into the night. At least, he assumed he had. Time was hard to keep in a cell which was completely sealed off from the outside world, except for the plate of scant rations and the glass of water that was slid through the slit on the bottom of the door every day.

    Once again, he groped blindly for the small iron rod. His grimy fingers clasped around the rod, lifting it from the floor. He stumbled over to the wall, leaning heavily against it as his legs tried to give out. Grumbling under his breath, he once again ran a hand over the grooves.

    He froze.

    A chill slid down his spine. Brushing his fingertips across to check again, he braced more of his weight onto the wall. Impossible. The marks were all gone; the wall had returned to its original pristine self.

    Maybe, he thought. Maybe I'm on the wrong wall. He knew it to be false, but that didn't stop him from dragging his way to the opposite side of the cell. And, as he had suspected, the wall was bare.

    Panic gripped his chest. The marks were the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing tying him to the ordinary world. And they were gone.

    A creak sounded from behind him. He whirled around, rod held up in defense.

    His jaw dropped. This time, his legs really did give out. He landed hard on the stone, but paid it no mind.

    The door was opening.

    The door that had been closed for the past fifteen years. The door that had barred Felix from the outside world for so, so very long.

    It was the source of the creaking, and it only grew louder as it swung farther inwards. It clanged into the stone wall as it reached as far as it could open.

    Brilliant beams of light flooded the cell. Felix grunted, shielding his eyes from it. It took several long moments before he could even bear to squint into the light. Finally, it dimmed from some external force, and a calm voice said, “Sorry about that.”

    Felix slid his eyes open cautiously, wary of the light.

    A tall man stood in the doorway. A brown overcoat flowed down to his boots, trailing behind him as he sauntered into the cell. A grin broke out on his pale face.

    “Felix King, if I'm not mistaken?” boomed the man. Felix winced as his voice echoed through the cell. It was the loudest thing he had heard since his friend was taken.

    “That's-” he began in a scratchy, under-used voice. He cleared his throat, and tried again. “That's me.”

    Felix hadn't thought the man's grin could widen, but it did. “Perfect!” he exclaimed. “Come right this way, please.” With that, he whirled on one heel and strode out of the cell.

    Wary of some kind of trap, Felix stayed hunched on the floor for a long moment. But eventually his curiosity got the best of him, and he scurried out of the cell. He stepped into the hall outside just in time to see the man round a bend a little ways away.

    Desperate not to lose him, Felix bounded down the hall, surprising himself at the energy he suddenly had.

    Into another hall he slid. The man was at the end of the hall, inserting and twisting a key in a door. Felix reached him just as he swung the door inwards.

    The man stepped aside and ushered Felix in. “Go on, go on. No time to lose.”

    Felix slipped inside, taking in his surroundings quickly. It was a barren room, except for a small table in the center, bordered by two chairs. It was eerily quiet. He had the cold feeling that he was simply moved to another cell. But a moment later, the man stepped inside, pulling the door shut behind him and locking them both in.

    The man sat, indicating for Felix to sit across from him. He obeyed reluctantly, still suspicious of the man.

    Grin still in place, the man said, “I am Ian Derrick, and I have come to rescue you.”

    Felix narrowed his eyes. It sounded too good to be true. Could he trust this man? He had helped him so far, but it seemed unlikely that someone would rescue him after so long of a time locked away.

    “How can I trust you?” he rasped.

    Ian's grin faltered. “I...” he trailed off. “You can't,” he finally stated bluntly. “But I'm your best hope of getting out of here.”

    “What can you do?”

    “Make it as if you had never gone to prison,” he replied coolly.

    Felix leaned back in the chair with a creak. His brows furrowed. “What?”

    Ian bent over the table, excitement lighting up his eyes. “I am a time traveler. I come from far, far in the future to save you.”

    Felix simply stared at him for a long moment. He stood. “You're insane.”

    “Not insane,” he defended himself. “I've already shifted time. That is why the marks on your wall are gone, having never been made in the first place.” His face lit up, as if an idea had struck him. “Here, let me show you.”

    In an instant, Ian's hand had snaked around Felix's wrist. Felix tried to fight him, but his grip was unbreakable.

    Ian's eyes lit up in a bright gold, dissolving the previous green. Golden beams of energy writhed around him, issuing shrieking whines that pierced through Felix. A bright flash filled Felix's vision, blinding him, and the next moment he was crashing to the ground.

    Shakily, he rose to his feet. Ian stood to the side, energy pulsing around him. Slowly, it faded.

    “What was that?” whispered Felix, almost to himself.

    Ian chuckled. “Time travel.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the field they had landed themselves in. They themselves were hidden under a large tree. “Does this place look familiar?”

    It took a moment for Felix to place it. His heart stopped as realization struck.

    “No,” he muttered. “No, no, no.” He stumbled to his feet, seizing the lapels on Ian's coat. “How are we here?” he roared, ignoring the scrape in his dry throat.

    Looking down on Felix, Ian grinned smugly. “Haven't I told you? Time travel,” he whispered conspiratorially.

    Felix stumbled back. “Why here?”

    “I told you I would erase the time you spent in your cell. That's what we're here to do.”

    “How?” The barest spark of hope lit up inside him.

    “You will go to your past self. You will show him what he – no, you – become.”

    The first gunshot went off not far from them. Felix took his first good look at the place that had haunted his dreams for so long, the place he had never wanted to be again.

    Two bunkers were set across from each other, with about an acre between them. Barrels emerged from slits in the walls, raining fire down on each other. The smell of gunpowder filled Felix's nostrils, and smoke swam through the air. The boom of gunshots echoed through the field.

    A young man was ducked behind one of the bunkers, having abandoned his rifle. He appeared to be waiting for an opportunity to bolt.

    “Go,” said Ian. “Stop him, and you will never be imprisoned.”

    The man – almost a boy – was Felix. A younger Felix. The Felix that had been first thrown into that horrible cell for the worst of crimes: deserting his fellow soldiers in the face of war. The soldiers had caught him before he had made it away and had dragged him to the officers' quarters. There, he had been sentenced to a lifetime locked away, never to see the light of day again.

    And here Felix was, seeing himself make the same mistake that had lost him so many years of his life.

    He didn't wait for a second prompting. Felix's tired legs carried him over through the field, his weary back bent to create a smaller target if the enemy took a shot at him. A bullet whizzed past his ear, so close that it burned.

    Finally, he ducked behind the bunker, and stared his past self in the face.

    Their eyes met. The younger Felix broke the silence.

    “I wasn't deserting, I swear!” he babbled, probably thinking he had been found out by some sort of officer. An officer in a tattered uniform. “I was under orders from Officer Jekk!”

    “Don't lie to me, Felix,” said Felix. “I know what you're doing.”

    “What?” Confusion washed over his features. “You sound like-”

    “You. I am you, Felix. I am you from the future.”

    The younger man shook his head. “You're insane.” The irony of it was lost on only one of the Felixs.

    “Listen to me,” he commanded. “If you run, you will be caught. You will be imprisoned for life. I know because I have spent the last fifteen years locked in a cell after I abandoned my post in the fear that I would be shot down.”

    “You're like me,” said the younger Felix.

    “I am you.”

    Realization appeared in the past Felix's eyes. The elder watched as the younger Felix took in his appearance. The same ocean blue eyes, but worn by what he had endured. The same deep black hair, but shot through with streaks of white.

    “If what you say is true,” he said, eyes wide. “Then what do I do to avoid my fate?”

    “Go back into the bunker. Fight the battle. It's the only way.”

    “Alright.”

    Felix turned to go, but his younger self grasped his bony arm. “And thank you.”

    The elder Felix smiled for the first time in fifteen years. “You're welcome, Felix.”

    With that, he looked back to where Ian had stood, and where he was still standing.

    Felix inhaled joyfully. He had done it. He would never suffer what he had suffered. He would fight the war, and if he died, so be it. It would be better than suffering.

    But something was off. Ian's jovial grin had vanished, replaced by something darker.

    Bang.

    A grunt sounded from behind Felix and a thump. He whirled around.

    The younger Felix was slumped on the ground, hand pressed to a bloody splotch on his uniform. An enemy soldier stood at the top of the opposite hill, across from where Ian stood, gun in hand. Smoke trailed from the barrel, masking his features.

    “No!” Felix roared, going to his knees beside himself.

    But he was already gone. The light had faded from him, gone forever.

    “No,” he muttered. He glanced up. The soldier was gone.

    A pain seized Felix's chest. He screamed in anguish, back bowing. And then all he felt was an emptiness inside him. A void.

    With the last scraps of his energy, he stumbled to his feet. Across the field he dragged himself. Ian waited for him, that evil, smug smile still in place.

    “You...” Felix growled, going for Ian's throat. But he was too weak. Ian seized Felix's wrists, forcing him to the ground.

    “Thank you, Felix,” he whispered. “You have just saved me.”

    “What?” he choked out.

    “Let me explain, as you go.

    “I truly am a time traveler, but I'm not from too far in the future. You see, as you were rotting in your prison, I conquered the world, piece by piece, until I was Emperor of the globe. Except for one small town that held itself against me. This is that small town.

    “And so, I traveled forward a few weeks and checked the local news. I had successfully taken the town, but I hadn't made it out alive. A local prisoner had broken out of his cell and shot me down with a rifle he had taken off a guard. He had been killed in retaliation, but it was a small solace.

    “This left me with a bit of a predicament. I wouldn't settle for one town unconquered, and everything I tried to avoid my fate ended with my death. Finally, I resorted to the last thing I could think of.

    “Having you cause your own death.

    “Time travelers cannot kill people from other times, so I couldn't go back and kill you myself. And I couldn't locate you at any other times than when you were imprisoned and when you first deserted.

    “And so I hatched my plan.

    “I hired a soldier from the enemy to be on that hill at that specific time to shoot a boy who would be outside the bunker. He asked me how I knew.  I simply told him that I had my ways.

"I could have just let the soldier kill him - you - but I've always had a flair for the dramatic, and so I brought your future self into the equation as well. In all honesty, it worked out far better than I had expected.

    “Having completed all the necessary preparations, I visited you in your cell. And you know how the rest went.”

    Felix, who had slumped on the ground, back against the tree trunk, blinked. It was all so much, and every moment he felt himself slipping further away. He had lost his ability of speech.

    “And now,” Ian continued, lowering himself to Felix's level. “You will die, and never would have been imprisoned, just as promised. And I will live to see the world under one rule: my own.”

    Ian patted Felix's cheek soothingly. “You must be wondering what is happening to you. You see, the death of your past self is erasing your existence. Soon, no one but me will remember you ever lived past today. Goodbye, Felix. I hope you will find peace in the next life.

    Having finished, Ian got back to his feet, flashed one final grin at Felix, and strode away, vanishing in a brilliant flash of light.

    The last things Felix knew were the hard press of the tree's bark on his skin, the scent of fresh grass pushing past that of the gunpowder, the chirp of a lone bird above him, and the memory of a gentle voice speaking through a pinprick of a hole in an impassable wall, soothing him as he faded away.