Questions

“Have you ever wondered at the nature of evil?”

The old man’s voice was silky soft, and in the dim of the basement you found yourself in, it seemed to come from every direction.

“Most people have no idea that an entire world lays beyond this one, hidden behind a thin sheet of reality. Time and space, where and when, these are concepts that are far more elastic than the common man might realise. And there is potential in making use of that elasticity.”

There was the sound of metallic clanging, tools being sorted through in the dark. Then came the roll of wheels being dragged in your direction. A small table came into your view, and upon it sat a collection of very sinister looking surgical tools.

Your grandfather stood before you, gloves covering his hands and his eyes fixed with dark intent. “You’re from the future, which means you have a considerable amount of knowledge I can make use of. Let’s have a discussion.”

“What’s with the tools?”

He smiled at the question. “Mentally, you’re quite well-guarded, but all things can be coaxed out with the correct application of pain.”

Your mouth ran dry. The restraints that bound you in place chaffed against your skin. “You’ve seen for yourself, I’m your grandson.”

“Yes.”

“Then why the fuck are you going to **** me?” You’d tried to keep the panic from your voice, but didn’t quite succeed.

“I certainly don’t want to,” he replied, mildly fiddling with a scalpel, “but I need information about the future,” his dark eyes fell on you, “so tell me what I want and you won’t be hurt.”

You stared at him, searched his eyes for a small eternity. “You’re bluffing.”

“Not at all.”

And to your horror, you realised he wasn’t. The man who had helped raise you, your mother’s father, someone you had loved very much during childhood, and he was entirely willing to **** you for information.

“First question,” he began to circle you, “who is the foremost mage during your time?”

You calculated the odds and decided that it wouldn’t be too harmful to give him that much. “Chapman…”

“Eric Chapman?” He sounded genuinely astounded. “He was always ambitious, but I didn’t think he would climb quite so high...”

Your eyes searched about in the dim basement for anything that might help in your escape. There was an old refrigerator, stacks of newspapers, and the water heater. Slim pickings. What else could you use? What could overcome his magic?

“Did I give you this ring?”

He came to stand directly in front of you, so close that you could smell the mint on his breath. His eyes peered into yours with a vulture’s sharpness. No point in lying.

“You left it to me in your will.”

No reaction, and his gaze did not shift. “How did I die?”

“You…” there was another thought that made you hesitate, what would happen if you told him the exact way he would die? Would he get angry, go mad from the revelation? You weren’t keen to test that out and tried a more generalised answer. “Old age got you.”

Those eyes darkened, his lips pressed together until his mouth became a scar. “Alright, who is your father?”

“I never met him.”

That, evidently, was the wrong answer. “Are you telling me that one of my daughters will go on to become a slut? Some whore who can’t even keep track of the men she fucks?”

“N-no, that’s not-”

An explosion of pain shot up from your hand through your arm right into your core as the old man brought down a ballpeen hammer on the middle finger of your left hand. The scream that escaped your lips was sudden and powerful while your whole body shook and thrashed in the restraints.

“No more lies now,” your grandfather’s voice was deceptively calm. “It’s very important for me to know who mingles blood with my own.”

“You fucking psycho!” You hissed the words through clenched teeth. The whole world seemed irrelevant outside the agony crawling up your hand. “You saw my memories, you know I’m your grandson!”

“I saw a single memory, without much context,” still, his voice was cold, logical. “But don’t mistake me, our blood connection changes nothing. If you don’t speak the truth, I will hurt you. Who sired you, boy? Was he a local, one of the chosen bloodlines?”

You spat the name like a curse. “Alec Norton, the jerkoff on my birth certificate is Alec Norton!”

He stared at you for several heartbeats, dissecting you with his gaze. “Alright, next question. Does anyone in this time know your true identity?”

A stab of fear lanced across your mind. You couldn’t tell him bout your grandmother, that would open too many other doors that you wouldn’t want for him to go through. But you could also tell from the intensity of his stare that he would see through any lie. Defiantly, you clamped your mouth shut.

“Really?” He asked, gesturing with the hammer. “You have nine other fingers for me to break.”

You shook your head, breathing heavily and bracing for the next blow. You watched as he raised the hammer high, time seemed to slow to a crawl, your throat was tight and sweat began to trail down your face. You watched the hammer descend…

“Doc!” A voice called, “Doc!”

The hammer paused in mid-air, and you both turned to look and the newcomer. Channel was standing there, looking pale and frightened . Your grandfather snarled in annoyance. “What is it, girl? I’m busy.”

“I just got off the horn with the hospital…there’s ah…there’s been a pile up on Marsten road. Five people in critical condition and they need you to operate.”

Your grandfather released a breath, put the hammer back on the tray and stood a little straighter. “Very well, I’m on my way,” he glanced at you, “I’ll deal with you later, boy.”

Channel stood meekly as the old man walked by her and up the stairs. She then spared you a glance that was apologetic. She glanced up at the stairs, then back at you, considered, then hurried over to you. Wordlessly, she picked up a scalpel from the tray and put it in your uninjured hand. She was gone as soon as she came, off to follow your grandfather.

You waited in darkness, listened intently until you were sure that you heard the start of a car and the wheels on asphalt. Your good hand curled around the blade. It was time to escape.