Center of Universe
+0-
Hoboken, New Jersey July 1841 Hoboken, New Jersey July 1841 Cain sat here because he had to think. When he began this, he had had a plan. “It was kill apes, create chaos. Then kill more apes. Then kill more apes. Finally, it was to kill the Ambassador.” Now, nothing was working exactly as it was supposed to. “First the Council decided on sending my younger brother to stop me. MY YOUNGER BROTHER THING!! He is a small picture guy. He has no concept of what I am doing. How DARE the Council believe they have the authority to stop me. No being has ever attempted to stop me.” “Next, the Ambassador DARES to give me orders.” “Lastly.” He stopped. He didn’t want to say it. “Lastly, thing, I have the beginnings of the Curse.” Thing laughed, silently but heartily. He stared at the wall in front of him. Spread out The Time Killer Twenty One
Prologue When I began this, I promised myself I would write as complete and entertaining a lie as possible. After finishing, I believed I had carried out this promise. However, the company that would eventually print this insisted that I needed to include other details. They wanted the truth. I have never let something like the truth stand in the way of a good story. That means that in the following story some of the lies are true. Alternatively it means that several of the lies are true. You figure it out.* * *
August 20, 2020
The next morning, technically the next afternoon, I awoke. The only thing about the previous twelve hours was the Willis’ deaths and the visit from the space guy. Digging in my shirt pocket, I retrieved it. It was roughly five inches square, although it seemed to have no controls on it. I was about to drop it back into my shirt when it seemed to come on. At what I would become familiar with, the video began with the location and year of the occurring event. &nbs
Lexington, KY August 25, 2001 “I must catch him. That was the sole instructions I received” Ian told me.
Domi-ium, First Cycle Past 9F “They call him the Time Killer. My brother.” In order to fully document the battle between Ian and his brother, Chan-Man had given me access to the Domi-ium files. At least as much as I needed. I never went to his planet. This was my first visit to his ship. “This ship is an ATOM 214. He has a new model, the 214s.” he told me on my
New Orleans, Louisiana March 1919 Cain walked slowly toward his ship. Behind him lay Italian grocer Charles Cortimiglia, another victim of a serial killer who chose to use axes that he found at his victims’ homes to attack them. Cortimiglia would survive, but a dozen more would not be so lucky. Cain would drop a letter off to the local paper, the Times-Picayune, which read in part . . .” they have never caught me, and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the