AN: Here's a little dark tale for you on Friday the 13th. I made a playlist to go along with this story but it's not super specific to this story. Just some dark music. And there's some homemade art in the middle to go with this story too. I hope you all enjoy the short trip into the future!

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. No matter how much we wish, they were real.

Copyright © 2022 Allison Achibane

All rights reserved.

Provecta Labs is seeking an adventurous individual for new aged travel system testing. No education or experience is needed. Clean background all that's required. High pay and full benefits.

That was what the ad said, and Blake answered it. Most would hesitate but not her. Not with her current bad luck in career choices. Blake had barely finished high school and went straight into the workforce. And it was a great move for her, making manager positions everywhere she went after a few months of hard work. But her latest job had massive layoffs with the recession, and Blake was a new hire.

What was supposed to be a promising new career with plenty of advancement opportunities turned out to be a joke. And Blake's old job had already been filled, so there was no going back.

So while others balked at the mysterious and eerie vibe, the listing gave off. And had no regrets when they told Blake the pay. It was three times what she made before and far less work. All she had to do was submit to regular physical exams, blood, urine, and a couple of CAT scans.

Oh, and she had to test out the time machine.

Blake was the mouse for Provecta's time travel device. She had seen the machine a few times already for practice runs and the so-called time machine was a large white room. The floor and ceiling were white tiles that shimmered in the fluorescent lighting. Nothing like the time machines in the movies Blake had watched.

All the scientists were very nice. Never once did Blake feel uncomfortable or belittled. It made it even harder to believe what they told her would happen.

"We're only going to send you twelve hours into the future, Blake," Dr. Turner, a calm woman with light grey hair, repeated, "that way, it's safe."

She always said that, but Blake didn't understand. What made a shorter time journey safer than a long one? Did it have something to do with all those theories in the movies about black holes?

Blake shook her head at the thoughts. It only made her ears burn with nerves. She was doing this. The check had already cleared the bank, and she needed that money. Anyone would take the funds in this day and age.

All Blake needed to do was follow the rules the scientists gave her. Six scientists, and they all said the same thing.

Rule one, no clothes. She had to do this in the nude. A middle-aged and balding man, Dr. Kells, said something about not mixing organic and non-organic in the machine. Blake didn't understand, but she'd seen The Fly and didn't question it.

Rule two, after she returned, Blake had to go into twenty-four-hour quarantine. No one explained this except to say, "time contamination precautions," whatever that meant. Blake wasn't sure what virus she could bring back from twelve hours in the future, but she wasn't paid to ask questions.

The final rule was the only one Blake sort of got. She wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone. Not even herself. Blake doubted she would see herself. If the time movies got it right, Blake would proof away in a cloud of smoke and a tremble if she saw her future self. Was it really the future? It was twelve hours, and everyone acted like it was twelve years!

Blake wasn't sure twelve years was enough to make a difference or cause contamination.

She wasn't the one with all the degrees. Or the willpower to find out. Blake would take the scientists' words as law and follow them strictly without a fight. With today being THE day, Blake was set to follow every rule and regulation without struggle.

Her flip-flops popped loudly in the otherwise empty hall. Dr. Turner was at her side, leading her into the room . . . the machine. Even though she owned her pair, the flip-flops were Provecta provided. Same as the thin robe Blake wore for modesty. Blake wasn't a showy person, and she didn't love attention. But she understood the rules of this test and didn't fight the no-clothing regulation.

However, Blake also got the problem of her walking around the dark halls in the buff.

The building was a small tin hut on the outskirts of town, and it was all Provecta property. Blake hadn't seen anyone else in the building besides the seven of them, so she had to assume they were alone. It made sense, given the paranoia the group had. Another rule was that Blake wasn't allowed to speak to anyone during the trials. Or after. She had even signed a non-disclosure agreement. The scientists barely talked to her, and she knew nothing of how anything worked, but sure, Blake was a threat to their payday. Who would believe her? Especially when asked about the future, her only response is, "Oh, I only went twelve hours ahead".

It was pointless to worry about Blake, but she wasn't there to ask questions or fight the system.

Placed in the center, Blake slowly removed her robe. Dr. Turner took it from her and joined the others on the other side of the wall. It had a rectangle glass for them to look in and watch her. There was no required position for Blake to be in, just that she was alone and naked in the middle of the room. And with so many eyes on Blake's nude body, she chose to wrap her arms around her chest and crouch. It was the only way to cover as much of her body as possible. In her position, she could still the faces of the scientist as they watched her studiously.

No one mentioned what it would feel like to jump time. Blake imagined it would be painful or weird. The scientist said nothing, maybe so they didn't frighten Blake. Either that or they had no clue what it felt like. Saying nothing made it worse as every muscle in Blake's body tightened with terror-filled tension. Only masochists like pain, and Blake wasn't one, flinching as the countdown from five lowered to one.

A loud pop echoed around, making Blake jump. That hurt, her tense muscles flexing when they couldn't move. The pain faded, and nothing more happened. Blake had closed her eyes off to the sensations, slowly opening them when the stillness became too much. The first thing she noticed was the lack of eyes on her. The scientists' faces were no longer in the window.

Carefully, Blake lifted out of her crouch, staring at the window unblinking. But there was no one there. "Hello?"

Blake's voice cracked like it was dry. If this worked, it had been twelve hours since her last sip of water. She was supposed to stay silent, let them look her over, then send her back. The whole process was to take an hour, and the scientists had been antsy about that time frame. She heard Dr. Kells talk about taking too long. So the fact that no one, especially Dr. Kells, was rushing out to her with needles was strange.

There wasn't a sound on either side of the wall, and Blake was tired. It was almost like she'd walked the twelve hours to get here. Her steps were weak, and her body shook, but Blake was ready to dig into these scientists for giving her such a hard time and then not being there to greet her. No-one stopped her as she left the machine and entered the booth.

"They really must not be there", Blake thought, getting angrier with each step.

She opened the scientists' rat hole door to slip and land on her back immediately. Her legs had completely come out from under her. There was something on the floor, and it coated her backside entirely now. The arms and legs, too, trying to get up on her feet again. Any understanding of what the stuff was washed away, Blake finally made eye contact with Dr. Turner. Only Dr. Turner was on the floor, looking blankly at Blake. And her green eyes were dull and almost grey.

Dr. Turner's mouth was parted, but no air came from it. It hung open in a horrified gasp that was released a while ago. Blake's eyes left the woman's face and searched her body on instinct. Dr. Turner had a deep hole in her chest.

A strangled cry escaped Blake's lips, and she returned to trying to get to her feet. She managed to sit up, finding Dr. Kells with his throat slit at her feet. Blake couldn't see the wounds on the others, but all six scientists were there, vital fluid pooling from the lifeless bodies of the only people that could send Blake back home.

Blood. Blake had slipped in their juices. She was covered in it. And now, Blake was choking, a scream begging to come out. Her eyes watered, blurring her sight. Blake forced herself to look away and get out of the gore immediately. Once on her feet, Blake found the wall covered in sanguine from the massacre around her. But some hemoglobin was purposeful, a handprint lingering from where someone wrote a message.

"Sorry," is what it said. The wall bled with the word Sorry. That was the only thing the scientists had to say to her, to the one they left stranded in the future.

Blake backed out, slamming her back into the door before spinning in the slick to fully exit the room. An emergency phone was on the wall a hall over. She was certain this was an emergency, slip-sliding down the hall towards the phone. It began ringing as soon as she picked it up, set to dial the cops instantly. Her voice quaked as she explained all she could to the dispatcher. Blake left out the time travel. It was a rule, and she knew she would sound crazy. Looking down at herself, Blake realized how crazy she looked anyway. The only 'clothing' she wore was blood.

The facility had showers and with Blake forced to live on-site during the tests, she knew them well. Along with getting the caked plasma off her skin, Blake pulled on some clothes. On the outside, she looked normal. However, Blake felt far from it, in the wrong time, and utterly confused. It had been twelve hours. How did all of the scientists manage to die? If she could get back to her time, she could warn them. Then none of this would ever happen.

Blake's first task was getting back to the time machine. Then she had to figure out how to work it and send herself back. It couldn't be that difficult . . . right?

To begin with, she had little confidence, but all that there was drained away when Blake caught sight of the time machine. Calling the police had been a mistake. They swarmed the booth now, blocking her way home completely. Blake was supposed to go back and go into quarantine, and she wasn't supposed to say anything to anyone. Even though Dr. Turner nor Dr. Kells explained what would happen if she did, the terrible things that happened in the movies had Blake frozen. They were all fictional horror films meant to warn anyone from messing with time. But they had to be warnings for a reason, and Blake didn't want to find out.

She ducked deeper into the shadows of her corner when someone approached from the other direction. Blake didn't need to see the face of the person in cuffs. She recognized them without a word from them. Blake watched as her future self, the Blake that belonged to this time, was led out by a pair of officers.

Of course, she was the prime suspect. Blake was the only other person on the premises. Who else could it be?!

Blake jumped and squealed when a hand wrapped around her mouth and yanked her back. She bit the hand, and they cursed loudly behind her. When she spun to attack her attacker, she stopped at the sight of a white lab coat. "Who are you?!"

He shook the hand she bit, still swearing and glaring at her. "I'm Dr. Peters, the head of this operation."

Blake stepped back, "I've never heard of you."

"You wouldn't," he stated and straightened his tie, "I supervise. Reports are sent to my office, and I oversee the budget. I would have been here today for the test, but my daughter is sick . . ."

Blake grabbed hold of the man's collar. He was short and thin. Blake could take him if she needed to, and she was far from being in shape. "They're dead. All of them."

Dr. Peters didn't fight against her grip. He only shook his head and sighed. "I know. And you're not supposed to be here."

"I don't want to be here! I followed the rules and should be HOME now. But everyone that could get me there IS DEAD!!!"

Dr. Peters hushed her, "I know! Look, I'd love to send you back, but as you can see, the booth is occupied. We'll have to wait until they get out of our way."

Blake pushed Dr. Peters back as she released him. "Can't you just ask them to move? Isn't this important?! A black hole could open up and kill us all!!"

Dr. Peters laughed at her, and Blake waited for his words of criticism. She hated scientists like Dr. Peters. They thought they were better because they were smarter. The others were never like this towards Blake. "A black hole won't open. The only danger is to you, Blake. The longer you stay in this time with your other self, the more chances there are for consequences."

"Consequences?" Blake asked although she was sure she didn't want to know.

Dr. Peters smirked with interest. "There are theories. It would be interesting to see what's true. Tell me, Blake, do you feel anything off? Any numbness or confusion?"

Blake slapped the smirk off Dr. Peters' face. "I felt that. Now get me the hell out of here!!"

Dr. Peters rubbed his cheek but said nothing about her assault. "As soon as the room is ours again."

The pair stayed in the dark, waiting. Finally, Dr. Peters approached the remaining cops and spoke for a few moments. They slowly agreed to his honeyed words, and Dr. Peters waved Blake over. "We have a few moments. I sent them for coffee."

"Why can't we use the machine with them here? Who cares as long as I get home!"

Dr. Peters frowned. "It's an active crime scene, one we're not supposed to touch. And this is all confidential. I saw your signature on the non-disclosure."

"Yeah, but this is different! This is an emergency!!!"

"No emergency trumps intellectual property and propriety. If word got out on what we were doing here, the protests would start and the attempts to steal and sabotage."

Blake stomped her foot in frustration, "it's the cops! Who are they going to tell?!"

The tremor Blake started in her foot from stomping traveled up until her leg, and lower back ached. Was this pain from stress or from being out of time? It didn't matter. She would be out of this messed-up world soon enough. Once she was back, she would tell the scientists, and they would live to see twelve hours later.

"Crap," Dr. Peters roared, and Blake pushed her attention back to him, "They didn't tell you an access key, did they?"

"No!" She screamed. "Of course, they didn't. I'm just the test subject! You're the supervisor. Didn't they tell you?!"

Dr. Peters shrugged, "no, it looks like they didn't trust me either."

At his side watching, Blake stepped back with that and looked the man over. Dr. Peters shows up out of nowhere, and she expected to take his word for who he is?

He must have caught on to her trepidation, suddenly reaching into his back pocket with an irritated sigh. "Here," he passed her a set of cards, one an ID for Provecta labs with his name and picture and the second a driver's license. They matched each other and the man before her. "I understand your fear, but you can trust me. And only me. Without the code, I can't send you anywhere. We need it from Dr. Turner, and she's. . ."

"Dead." Blake finished for him. "What other choices do I have?"

Pain struck Blake's stomach so strongly that it forced her to her knees. She clutched her belly but realized she couldn't feel her fingers or palms. Pulling them into sight, they were both see-through.

"Oh god . . . it's like back to the future . . ."

"Back to the Future is fiction. And McFly disappeared due to screwing up his birth." Dr. Peters knew pop culture? That was surprising. "This is an effect of occupying the same space of time as your future self. The Blake of this time is likely feeling the same things as you right now."

Dr. Peters helped Blake to her feet, but she still hunched over her stomach. "What does that mean??"

"It means that . . . your existence is fighting. But in the end, you'll both lose. Because if you disappear, then future you does too."

Dr. Peters stopped, but it was clear he had more to say. "What?"

He sighed, "if you die, then so does the Blake of this time. The future cannot exist without the past. But if the Blake of this time disappeared . . ."

"I would assume her place, and it would be as if it never happened?"

"Something like that."

Blake groaned as another wave of pain flowed from her belly to her back. "How do we get to her? The cops have her."

"They won't for long," Dr. Peters pointing to the small black bubble in the corner, "the video will prove her innocence. Unless . . . you did kill them?"

"No. That's stupid. Why would I kill the ones who could send me home?"

Dr. Peters' suspicions died as quickly as they came. It was why they sat in his car outside the police station, waiting for the current time Blake to appear. Numbness had reached Blake's wrists by the time she appeared. Dr. Peters got out and approached, but from where Blake sat, her other self didn't look like future Blake was cooperating. And why would she? Even with the sound logic of a scientist, no one wants to die. At least, Blake didn't, and she knew that about herself.

Dr. Peters told her to stay out of sight, but this wasn't working. Jumping out of the car, Blake showed herself to the other Blake before Dr. Peters could stop her. Current Blake's head shook violently as if having a stroke while she cried.

"No. No, this isn't right. You shouldn't be here!" Future Blake screamed at the past. "I went back! And I warned him!!!"

"Warned who?" Past Blake screamed back.

"Dr. Kells!! None of this should be happening!!"

Dr. Peters grabbed Blake's future self and shook her to calm. "You broke protocol?! You weren't supposed to say a word to anyone!!!"

"I know!!"

Past Blake stood at a short distance in shock. The pain and numbness flared together, making her feel weak. The two Blakes fell to one knee at the same time.

"This is why we have these rules!" Dr. Peters drew a small gun from his back pocket. He never mentioned a gun, and now he had it aimed at future Blake's heart. "This will fix everything."

Future Blake rolled and got to her feet, struggling but still getting a good distance away before Dr. Peters could get a shot off. He missed, and future Blake disappeared behind the police station. The sound of a gunshot would bring the cops out and on to them. Past Blake shoved Dr. Peters back. "What are you doing?!"

"What we discussed!"

Blake shook her head at him, "not like this. She needs to understand. Now, she's just freaked out!!"

"Then you handle it!" Dr. Peters shoved the gun into her hands and stalked off.

It was up to her.

Following after the future Blake, past Blake carefully turned the corner of the building. Only to get a foot to her belly. Already in pain, the strike had Blake on the ground. It felt like her belly burst, spreading blood and fluids through the rest of her insides.

Future Blake fell too. Anything that happened to the past affected the future. They were only twelve hours apart, not enough time for a stomach eruption to stop hurting.

"Blake," past Blake gasped, "we're going to die."

Future Blake shook her head, "no, no. I went back! Why didn't you go back?!"

"They were all dead!" Past Blake screamed, her vision beginning to fade. "I can't go back. And if we both stay here, we will die!"

"That's not . . . the only one dead was Dr. Kells. I warned him that he was dead and I didn't know how. But he was, and the other scientists were around him, so they had to know what happened. I broke protocol and whispered it to him. He was supposed to live. And you were supposed to go back!"

Her future self told one man he would die in twelve hours, and instead, six were dead? "Did the police tell you what happened?" Future Blake shook her head. "Dr. Peters was right. We caused this. You caused it. And now you have to pay the price." Past Blake got to her feet with some struggle, then aimed the gun at her future. "You have to die, or we will both stop existing."

"Why me?" Future Blake begged.

"If I die, then you die. It's simple when you think about it."

Future Blake's face was covered with tears and resolution. "I die, you take my place, and we . . . live on?"

"As best . . . as I can."

This was it, the fix in time and Blake's salvation. Future Blake nodded and closed her eyes, ready for her death. It wasn't really death. They were one and the same. That's what past Blake told herself as she aimed for her heart. It wasn't murder since killing herself would allow her to live. No one would truly die today. Except for the scientists, there was no fix for that, sadly.

Past Blake closed her eyes too. Watching herself die would be too much. The sound of the gun wasn't as loud as Blake thought it would be. And the pain was still there, growing until it turned to numbness. Future Blake opened her eyes and watched red bloom on past Blake's chest. Her eyes went dull, and past Blake fell to the dirty cement, dead.

A cop stood a short distance, slowly lowering his gun. Future Blake was in shock. She had just watched herself die, but that was her past self. Which meant . . .

The cop was approaching, yelling something, but Blake couldn't hear a word. It was like her ears were filled with water or dirt. She saw the black blood pool on her chest, exactly where her past self was shot.

The young cop stood over Blake, trying to get her to her feet, but they wouldn't move. She reached over, lifting a leg of her pants. The skin was pale and blueish like a corpse. No matter what the cop or anyone else did, it was over. Blake was already dead.

Dr. Peters shoved the cop away and grabbed Blake, shaking her. But then he looked to the other Blake, the one dead. Understanding covered his face, and he grew still. His mouth moved, but Blake couldn't hear him. Her eyes were dying, and the world was turning grey. Dr. Peters spoke slowly, and Blake focused on his mouth as he said the same thing repeatedly.

"Sorry."

AN: This story is dedicated to my dear friend Natalie who likes unhappy endings now and then.