Lost in Time
Hannibal was hit with a wave of confusion, mixed with panic. The woods around him were completely foreign - but somehow he knew them. He willed his eyes to adjust to the blinding light, squinting as he tried to take in everything around him. At first he could only see large, haunting shadows, but quickly they turned into the shape of trees.
And then, as if the lens of a camera had finally sharpened its focus, he saw everything clearly. He was standing all alone in a vast forest, with no sign of life except for his own harsh breathing and the smoke rising from his busted time machine. Hannibal didn’t know what he expected, but landing in the middle of nowhere all alone was not what he had in mind.
He hesitated, but finally walked back to his little ship-looking machine and tried to see if it would tell him where in the world he was, or what year he was in.
“I swear to god, if that guy sent me to the prehistoric era. I’m gonna figure out a way to rebuild this piece of shit and kill him.” Hannibal grumbled to himself as he looked around the inside of the ship. “Great, absolutely nothing.”
Without warning, a beeping sound rang out from the inside of the machine and Hannibal crawled back inside to check what it was. His face dropped instantly as he saw a small red countdown with the words “Self Destruct” flashing below it.
“5, 4, 3…”
“Shit-” Hannibal said as words sank in and he scrambled out of the machine. Not a second after he had gotten out, the machine exploded. The blast wave threw him several feet in the air, and scorched his clothes.
“Ow.” Hannibal groaned as he lay on his stomach watching the flames consume his only way home. “Couldn’t have told me about that? Fucking scientists.”
Hannibal hesitated to move, he didn’t want to face how badly his body would ache, but as he started to his feet, his leg didn’t hurt and neither did any of his previous injuries. His eyes widened in a mix of awe and horror as he lifted the burned remains of his shirt to reveal all of his previous scars that had covered his stomach were completely gone, in fact everything seemed different. He was much skinnier and toned than before.
“What the f-” Hannibal said as a storm of emotions turned his gut and he threw up a mix of blood and something he couldn’t identify which only made him retch more.
He had no idea what was happening, but he knew he needed to get away from this place. He didn’t know where he was, but if there were people around him they would be coming to investigate the explosion. Hannibal felt weak and dizzy from the blast and whatever had happened to him in that machine, but he tried to ignore it.
Hannibal cursed silently as he tried to figure out where he should even go, everything looked the exact same. Trees and more trees all around him, but he decided to go west in
hope something was out that way. As he ran, waves of nausea washed over him but he never stopped. He hadn’t run this fast or well in years. His legs didn’t hurt anymore and
he no longer had his limp. Hannibal shook his head in disbelief; whatever that scientist had done, he no longer felt like a wounded, old man.
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He continued running for what felt like an eternity before he reached his first sign of human life; A long concrete road that cut right through the middle of the forest. A long sigh of relief escaped Hannibal’s lips that turned into a weak laugh. He felt like he could cry just seeing this road. It confirmed he wasn’t trapped in a medieval century, although he still had no idea what year he was in.
Hannibal slowed himself to a fast walk as he continued down the road, unsure where it would lead but he knew it would be better than whatever he had found so far. As he walked along the side of the road, no cars drove by and he never ran into any signs of life. Wherever he was, it felt hotter than a witches coochie as the sun beat down on him, burning his exposed skin.
As the light of day began to dim and Hannibal’s spirit was dwindling he spotted something in the distance. He quickened his pace into a run as the blurry shape became more defined and he found himself looking at an old gas station. It looked rundown and abandoned but a single truck in the parking lot told him there was someone inside.
The store owner’s eyes widened in horror as Hannibal stepped through the door, his hand twitching for his gun. Hannibal knew he must look absolutely terrifying as he walked closer to the counter because the store owner took a few steps back and placed his gun as a warning sign. Hannibal looked down at himself; he was covered in blood, his clothes were burned and torn to shreds and it didn’t help that he was panting like a rabid dog.
“I-”
“Get the fuck out of my shop you freak!” The shop owner cut Hannibal off, practically spitting in his face. “I’ll shoot!”
“Please, I just need to know what year-”
“GET OUT! NOW!”
Hannibal’s eyes narrowed at the shop owner who was screaming like a maniac, a burning white rage growing in him. He knew he looked a bit frightening but frankly this was too over the top. He knew he shouldn’t do anything impulsive until he knew where he was but this owner was really getting on his nerves. Hannibal’s eyes focused on the gun sitting on the counter, and then at the man. He was middle-aged, racist looking hillbilly, but most importantly, he was very overweight.
All his patience vanished as the man continued screaming, pushing his last button. Hannibal lunged at the shop owner who had only a second to react but he was too late. By the time he had grabbed his gun, Hannibal was already over the counter and slammed him to the floor. The man was pinned, his body unable to move as Hannibal wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and began to squeeze. A scream caught in the man's throat as Hannibal quickly broke his neck with a jerk of his arm.
Hannibal kept squeezing long after the sound of bones snapping just making sure the man was actually dead. After a few minutes he released his iron grip and the man’s lifeless body slumped to the floor.
Hannibal stood up, dusting off his clothes. They were dirty and frankly disgusting, barely hanging on. He looked at his own outfit and then down at the dead shop owners, then back to his own.
“This is just humiliating…” Hannibal grumbled and shook his head in disbelief as he flipped the man over and started stripping him of his clothes. By the time the man was in nothing but his underwear, Hannibal was exhausted. Turns out trying to get an overweight dead body free of his clothes was terribly difficult.
In a half-assed effort, Hannibal covered the man’s naked body with napkins.
“Well, this has to be one of my lowest moments… ever.”
He pulled off his own tattered clothes and put on the gas station man's outfit. It was way too large for him, but it was better than what he had been wearing earlier, although this new outfit smelt horrible. Hannibal tried to ignore the smells that assaulted his nose and looked around the store.
He worked fast, grabbing bags from the checkout counter and stuffed them full of an assortment of food, water, some cheap alcoholic drinks and anything else that caught his eye. Stealing was always something that he frowned upon his entire life, but now that he literally had nothing to his name, he had no other choice. He set all of his bags down and got to work on the safe hidden under the counter.
He had never been any good at breaking into anything besides house locks and trying to crack some safe was a whole new ballgame. After a few minutes of fumbling around
with the lock he angrily grabbed the gun lying on the floor next to him, and shot the safe until he had no more ammo.
Apparently he had done something right or the safe was a piece of shit, probably the latter, but the door opened without much effort.
Inside was a large stack of cash and the man’s wallet which he quickly grabbed and stuffed in a small backpack he had found, along with everything in the register.
Just as he was standing up, the sound of tires grew louder and he could see the shape of a car coming closer. He quickly ducked back behind the counter and frantically looked around for an exit. He couldn’t just sit where he was, so he grabbed his bags and crept along the aisles into the bathroom where he would have a better chance of hiding from
view as he tried to figure out a plan. Luckily for him, no plan was needed. The bathroom had a massive window large enough for even someone the size of the shop owner to crawl through.
Hannibal almost laughed at how stupidly convenient this window was, almost like they were offering him the world's easy getaway. I mean really, what are the odds?
The sound of the front door’s entrance bell ringing snapped him back to reality, quickly sliding the window open as quietly as possible and then shutting it once he was outside.
Hannibal threw the backpack over his shoulder, grabbed his bags and ran into the woods he had been so desperate to get away from.
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The light was long gone as a foggy darkness covered everything, but it was still incredibly hot. Hannibal dripped with sweat as he continued running, unwilling to stop until he
found some sign of humanity or his legs gave out from under him. The bags he was carrying felt heavier with every step and his stomach growled furiously at him. He hadn’t eaten anything for about two days and anything he had had left in him had been thrown up multiple times.
Just as Hannibal was about to give up, a small yellow light broke through the darkness of the forest and he forced himself to keep going. As he continued toward the light he
reached the edge of the forest and he almost fell over in shock at what he was seeing. The light was emanating from an old motel sign and he could see the distant lights of a
town behind it.
He never thought he could be so happy seeing some dirty motel, but tears threatened to start flowing regardless. As he walked toward the entrance, he remembered how
suspicious it would look with all his bags and decided to leave them outside, just taking some cash inside with him.
As he walked through the front door, Hannibal pulled back on his human suit and tried to act as respectable as he could, ignoring how gross he looked and felt. An older-looking lady sitting at the front looked him up and down, but said nothing about his appearance.
“How many nights and what kind of room?” She asked him in a bored tone as if she couldn’t care less.
“Um… 1 night, but I might be staying longer. What kind of rooms do you have?” Hannibal asked, trying to be as polite as he could.
“Just pay for one and pay for more tomorrow if you change your mind.” She said almost mocking his polite manner. “We only have queen beds.”
“Then a queen.” Hannibal answered, and paid the woman. “Why do you even ask if you only have one kind of room?”
“Makes us sound more… fancy.” She gave him a fake smile and handed him his keys. “You’re in A14”
“Thank you.” Hannibal smiled back and walked out muttering under his breath. “Bitch.”
Hannibal quickly grabbed his bags and unlocked the door to A14. It was a small room consisting of a single bed, a nightstand, closet and an even smaller bathroom. He
shrugged and tossed his bags on the floor and flopped down on the bed, too tired to care.
“Home sweet home.” Hannibal mumbled to himself as he passed out, exhausted from the weirdest day ever.