(I know I shouldn't but, I feel the need to; I'm going to justify myself. I'm so sorry.(Also is that an appropriate use of a semi-colon? That damn symbol will forever escape me.) I wrote this piece a few years ago, only got 5 chapters through. It's filled with plot holes and make zero sense, and that's why I'm posting it here. I'd like your opinions, not only in the technical side, but also the story and how the plot will actually work. I'm quite happy with the way the audience is thrown into the story, and how a few things make no sense without explanation, but if any of it feels wrong overall, I'd hugely appreciate your input. Thanks in advance :))
CHAPTER 1- The end
Jonathan Mark Terry was born May 1st 2006 and killed on March 18th, 1999.
John, as he was called by his friends, and most other people for that matter, had a very rare case of Non Linear Events Disorder. NLED occurs when a series of events that are important to a story happen outside of a main characters lifespan.
They can not be omitted from the story due to continuity errors, but the subject cannot be placed in the timeline either, because they events have already happened. So, the universe books them into the nearest opening for a birth, and whenever they are supposed to play a part in the story, they will be thrown there.
To keep the subject to a normal life span, instead of returning to the time they left off from, they are pushed forward however long they are gone for. This led to some… Interesting explanations.
When John was almost 8, this happened for the first time. He was asleep at the time, at very surprised to suddenly find himself at the Battle of Waterloo, 1815. He was about a kilometer away from the actual fighting, looking on from a small crest in the land. The grass around him was still slightly damp, the moisture soaking into his pajamas.
The sun was hot overhead, and at almost 2 in the afternoon, the lighting was a sharp contrast from the midnight luminescence of his room. He blinked and squinted under the piercing gaze of the sun, his eyes soon becoming adjusted to the sudden change, though not before checking themselves to make sure they weren't still asleep.
Jonathan didn’t know this of course, as scientists did not discover that body parts had individual consciousness until the great scientific throw-over of Henry the Swollen in 3723.
John was sitting beside a young man in a rough leather coat, and an much older man in board shorts and a singlet. To his left and slightly ahead of him, a girl who looked to be in her mid-teens was dancing in small circles.
“You’re smaller than before” Grunted the man in casual. “I was wondering when you were going to join us next.”
“Uh… Yes” Replied John smoothly. He was completely calm, which puzzled him, as he thought he would be freaking out by now.
“What took you so long anyway?” Asked the smaller boy, without taking his eyes off the battle. In fact, he hadn’t even looked at Jonathan at all.
“I was... Um… Growing.” Answered John, now becoming sufficiently scared.
“Wait...” Said the boy, his brow furrowing. He glanced at Jonathan, then turned to the older man and asked “Do you think this is his first?”
“First? Of course it’s his first, we asked him that last time!” Grumbled the old man, slightly too loudly for Jonathans liking.
“Well, then shouldn’t we do introductions?” Said the boy, his eyes now firmly back on the battle before him, which was now coming to a close as Napoleon's forces were flanked.
“We did that last time too. Doing it again would just be a waste of time, let him find out later.”
By this point Jonathan had transcended fear and confusion as his body and mind both gave up on logic simultaneously. This was where things got so interesting that even the small girl stopped dancing.
“So, Battle of Waterloo huh? I thought you'd be more inclined to be visiting the dark ages right about now.” Said Jonathan nonchalantly. The old man glanced sideways at him. “How’d ya figure that?” He asked suspiciously.
“I have no idea, but shouldn’t we be more worried about the Squid people?”
“The… What?” Now the tables had turned, and the old man wasn’t even sure which side of them he was on. “Squid people? Are you nuts boy?” He stuttered angrily.
“That’s by far the most interesting reaction to spontaneous time travel I’ve ever seen.” The boy remarked, an odd fascination in his eyes.
He stared at John, as if trying to see into his mind. In fact, he stared so hard that his head exploded from one side, a small bloody hole appearing in the other side.
He was certainly dead, and now the party of three were on their feet, looking away from the battle, and towards the 30 or so... things... walking towards them.
“See,” Said Jonathan calmly, “Squid people.”
“Octosapiens is the correct term, because their arms are arrang-” and then the old man must have thought too hard as well, brain matter flying backward from his head as a hole the size of rubiks cube (except slightly smaller, rounder, and easier to figure out) appeared in his forehead. He too fell.
And then there were two.
“Well,” said the girl, speaking for the first time since John arrived, “That explains your reaction at Sector fifty.” She looked into Jonathan's eyes, gave a faint smile, then closed her eyes. There was a sudden flash of dark, then Jonathan was home.
He was standing on his bed, the room was pitch black, the memory clear as day.
Jonathan would see that girl every time he closed his eyes for 60 years.
It also took him quite a while to figure out how you can have a flash of dark.
(I'd like to dedicate this story to Stip, a life-long friend and faithful Lover. I'd also like to say that when the author has as many questions as I do about a piece of writing, it's probably doomed. However, I refuse to give up. No matter how many times I have to write and re-write this god-forsaken book, you, me, and the entire herd, are going to get this thing shiny.)