The Time Traveler's Last Adventure.
He stood paralyzed as the tentacles reached out. At the very last moment The Time Traveler awoke from his frozen fear and leaned on the lever. The time machine shot forward in time and the tentacles faded to dust just as they reached out to grab him.
Forward now. He had come so far already!
It seemed a pity not to finish the course, to see where it would all end. He leaned on the lever and the millenniums fell behind him as dust at the wheels of a chariot.
A billion years passed in the space of a few moments.
The Time Traveler felt a wave of despair wash over him. Was there nothing left alive? He leaned on the lever and pushed it forward, far as it would go. The hands on the dial sped around as fast as the blades of a fan. The scenery changed. Green faded into blackness and then into green again, black and green, black and green, black and green, a thousand times. Then green faded into white and then there was no white either. Only blackness.
. The time traveler reached out his hand and stopped the lever. The needle slowed and he stopped. The machine gave a tired creak. This was as far forward in time as he had ever gone before. He dared go no further!
The beach that had been boarded with water, now was bordered with ice. The giant crabs and the black tentacle thing was no more. Also gone was the pale, green moss. All life was gone, and the wind had ceased as a crying child who was too tired to cry any more. There wasn't enough energy from the sun left to make heat to move the air. Never had he ever felt so cold!
The sun barely shown. The lights from the other stars were even dimmer. It took a long while for his eyes to adjust to what little dim light there was. He gazed around him, his heart heavy with despair. So the Universe would end with a whimper not a bang. Or would it?
For suddenly his ears perceived a faint and rheumatic bang, then another, and another, like the sound of a distant drum, drawing nearer, nearer, defiant, forever and persistent. It was coming from behind him. He swung around and gasped at the horrible sight, the so out of place, discordant flash of gaudy pink!
And still the infernal thing banged, and banged and banged again! And then he knew. He knew! The last gasp of Humanity would not be his poetry or his faith but his insatiable thirst to maintain power!
Still going!