October 7, 2017, 11:55 p.m.
The nightly Seattle skyline drew a picturesque image through the window occupying the western wall of a spacious loft apartment. The view had been a source of inspiration to Maxine Caulfield on numerous occasions but not tonight. The melancholic tunes of 'Hollow Glow' by Hannah Telle accompanied the middle-aged brunette as she sat on the couch, delving into a photo album on her lap, interrupted only by the occasional sip from the glass of merlot on the living room table.
She gazed at a self-portrait of a young and enthusiastic girl in front of a school building, dressed in ragged baggy jeans, a lilac Pearl Jam t-shirt and a grey plaid flannel shirt. 'Sep 3, '93, First day!' was written with a permanent marker on the white space of the Polaroid picture. Maxine, or Max as she liked to be called, had taken the 'selfie' on her first day at the Blackwell Academy, located in the small coastal town of Arcadia Bay, Oregon. It was a private senior high school that had an acclaimed photography program taught by one of the most renowned photographers of the late 70's and early 80's, Mark Jefferson.
Max had returned to her old hometown after a five-year absence. In addition to the beginning of school, she anticipated but also feared the possible encounter with her childhood friend, Chloe Price, who she had not seen since her departure. Chloe's father William had died in a car accident just before the Caulfield family had moved to Seattle and Chloe had not taken the unexpected move well. Max and Chloe had had a falling out on the day before the move and they had not been in in contact since.
The reunion had never taken place, though, as twenty-four years to date, Chloe had been shot to death by Nathan Prescott in the girls' restroom of the Blackwell Academy main building. Max herself had been a witness to the shooting, as she had been hiding behind the stalls during the event. Nathan, the scion of the most influential family in Arcadia Bay, had been found guilty of a murder in the second degree, and since the insanity plea had fallen through, he was serving a life-sentence at the Oregon State Penitentiary in Salem.
The shooting had set in motion a series of events, unravelling what would be regarded as the most heinous act of crime in the history of Arcadia Bay. Nathan Prescott had admitted that he had assisted Mark Jefferson to capture several female students of Blackwell and deliver them to a bomb shelter converted into a photography studio beneath a barn owned by the Prescott family. In that studio, Mark Jefferson had taken advantage of the victims and photographed them in their incapacitated state. 'Captured their innocence', as he would later say in the interrogation. One of the victims, one Rachel Amber that had been reported missing since previous spring, had died as a result of drug overdose at one of the photo sessions. Also Mark Jefferson had been given a life sentence on the basis of conspiracy to murder and multiple sexual felonies. He kept Nathan company at the Oregon State Pen.
Max had been devastated to find out that the girl shot in the restroom was in fact her childhood friend, Chloe. Another blow was that her photography teacher that she had always admired and kept in high regard, turned out to be a perverted sexual predator. Disillusioned, Max had almost quit Blackwell, but with the support of her new friend, Kate Marsh, she had made it through her senior year and graduated among the top students of her class on the spring of 1994.
Max had moved back to Seattle and began her studies at the Seattle University on a full scholarship. Already during her studies, she had begun to make name in the art circles of the west coast and by the time she got her Bachelor's degree from the Seattle University, Max had already held several exhibitions and her works had been published in various publications, including the National Geographic. The peak of her career had been in the 2000's, during which she had covered both the Afghanistan and Iraq war, among other features.
By the early 2010's, Max's star had begun to vane and she had retreated from the public eye, living off the royalties of her works. She had been offered a teacher's position at Blackwell but she had declined. She'd kept in touch with Kate but otherwise she lived in solitude.
Max took another sip from the wine glass and turned the page on the photo album. There was a picture of a Peleides Blue Morpho, a blue butterfly. Max's heart skipped a beat, when she saw the picture. She had taken it on the same day Chloe had been shot, just moments before the incident between Chloe and Nathan had taken place.
Max took the picture in her hands. A single tear ran down her cheek. Oh, Chloe, I still miss you. We had such a good time together, when we were kids. I'm so sorry that I had to leave you on your darkest moment.
Max kept gazing at the picture wistfully. Ugh, I'd really need my reading glasses, she thought, when the picture went blurry. The brunette couldn't be bothered to go to the bedroom to get the glasses, so she squinted her eyes and did her best to focus on the picture. Suddenly the image vibrated and she could hear ambient noise, like it had come from the photo. What the fuck is this? I could swear that the image moved. But I've only had one glass. Max squinted her eyes again and got the image sharp. Again the picture began vibrating and the ambient noise returned. What is happening? she thought as the vibration picked up pace and she could hear her own heartbeat synchronize to it. All of a sudden everything faded into a white haze.
-ooo-
Click, whrrrrr! The shutter of a Polaroid JobPro 600 instant camera went off and a photo was spat out from the slot below the optics. Max took the photo from the camera and shook it a few times out of habit. The image of a Blue Morpho begun to appear on the paper.
At that point, the brunette became aware of her surroundings. What the fuck? Where am I? She looked down and saw the butterfly sitting at the edge of the bucket. She turned around until she caught her image on the mirror. Instead of a gracefully aged 42-year old woman, there was girl in her late teens staring back at her. A dishevelled bob graced the freckled but otherwise immaculate face. A plaid flannel shirt, which sleeves had been rolled up to the elbows covered an Alice in Chains band shirt. A ragged pair of Levi's 501s completed the grunge armour. She kept looking around and she recognized her surroundings to be the girls' restroom of Blackwell Academy.
Ok, something's seriously fucked up right now! Max thought in panic. But what? I'm not on any medication and I haven't been baking for some time, so how is it possible that I'm in this shithole in my younger body?
Max walked to the door and opened it slightly. There was a bright haze coming out of the door slot. Oh crap! I should've not tried acid back in college! I'm stuck on a hella bad trip! She walked back to the corner, where she had taken the photo. Hey wait a second! If I'm here and I took that photo, it means-
The brunette's thoughts interrupted by the sound of the door opening and someone stepping in. Max took a peak and saw a young man in his late teens pacing around frantically and checking the stalls. Max recognized him to be Nathan Prescott.
"It's cool, Nathan… Don't stress…You're okay, bro. Just count to three…" the young man rambled to himself.
"Don't be scared… You own this school… If I wanted, I could blow it up… You're the Boss…" he continued rambling, while he stared himself at the mirror.
A moment later, the door opened again and girl in her early twenties stepped in. She had a long straight hair, completely dyed in blue. A tight tank top made by ripping the sleeves off from a Slayer band shirt was covered by a denim vest adorned by numerous thrash metal band logos. Her slim legs were covered by ripped tight black jeans complemented by a studded belt. A leather wrist cuff adorned her left arm while a sleeve tattoo covered most of her right arm. A bullet necklace completed the outfit. Max felt her heart skip another beat, when she recognized the girl. Even though her appearance was completely different from her childhood, the piercing blue eyes told Max that she was looking at Chloe Price.
"So what do you want?" Nathan asked from the thrasher girl.
"I hope you checked the perimeter, as my step-ass would say," she said while pushing the stall doors open. "Now, let's talk bidness."
"I got nothing for you," the young man scowled.
"Wrong. You got hella cash," Chloe turned to face him.
Oh shit! This is happening all over again, Max thought as she stood behind the stalls and listened the heated exchange of words. Chloe is going to get herself killed.
"…Nobody would miss your 'thrashy ass', would they?" Nathan said furiously, pointing the gun he had drawn a moment ago at the Chloe.
"Get that gun away from me, psycho!" the thrasher yelled frantically.
"No!" Max shouted and reached out as the gun went off. What happened next, was beyond her comprehension. The thrasher girl that was about to fall dead to the ground seemed to slow down until she came to a standstill in mid-air. All of a sudden, the sight in front of the brunette shifted and everything began to go backwards. Chloe returned to a standing position and the deadly projectile came out of her abdomen and returned into the chamber. The events scrolled backwards at an accelerating pace until everything jerked to halt and she found herself alone in the restroom again.
What the fuck just happened? Max stared at her hand. I somehow rewound time. How is this possible? She was pulled out of her thoughts as the door opened and Nathan stepped back in. Max pulled herself out of sight.
"It's cool, Nathan… Don't stress…You're okay, bro. Just count to three…" the young man began the same rambling as before.
That's the same rant as before! I did rewound time! Max thought in amazement. But that means Chloe is going to enter the room any moment and get herself killed, unless…
The brunette looked around. She could hear the door opening and the thrasher girl enter the room and begin the discourse. On the wall there was a fire alarm but the hammer to break the glass was missing. Oh for fuck's sake! Don't people respect public property anymore!
"…You are going to get in hella more trouble for this than drugs," Max heard Chloe say. I'm running out of time! she thought. How did I pull that rewind thing off? She stretched her arm and concentrated. Again with a swooshing sound, she could see the time come to standstill and starting to go back. After a moment she relaxed her arm. Ok, where's that hammer? What's under this washing bucket… a-ha! Max thought victoriously as she saw the hammer lying on the floor. She picked up the hammer, smashed the glass and pushed the button.
"No way…" Nathan managed to say before Chloe thrusted her knee into his groins.
"Don't ever touch me again, freak!" she shouted at the young man lying on the ground, before she exited the restroom.
Booyah! Max thought as she watched Nathan get himself together and leaving. I did it! Chloe didn't die! She walked in front of the basins and looked herself at the mirror. That leaves me. How am I going to get back home?
Like an answer to her question, the restroom began to fade into the bright haze, enclosing the brunette inside it.
-ooo-
Max gasped and instinctively thrusted herself into a sitting position as she came to. She blinked her eyes a couple of times to adjust into the darkness. She realized that she was in bed but it didn't feel like her own bed.
Where am I? Max thought, when she tried to get her bearings. That dream was so surreal! I was back in Blackwell and I was somehow able to rewind time. And I saved Chloe. She scrabbled the bedside table and managed to find a light switch. It would've been nice, if I had had such powers back then. She flicked the switch and a bleak light illuminated her side of the bed. Max looked around in amazement.
Ok, this is definitely not my bedroom, she thought as she saw the satin bed clothing and the antique furniture. This must be some fancy hotel room or something. The only question is, how the fuck did I end up here?
Max realized that she was wearing a silky nightgown. Definitely different from a t-shirt and boxers that she usually wore in bed. She turned to look at the other side of the bed. There was woman sleeping in there. Ok, now just who might that be? Max pulled the duvet a bit to get a better look and gasped again, when she recognized her sleeping partner. The strawberry blonde hair was elegantly cut short from the neck, growing longer towards the face. She was definitely older as there were a few wrinkles around the eyes but the woman next to her was none other than Chloe.
Chloe?! Max looked at the sleeping woman in amazement. She's alive! How is this possible? She thought about what had happened in her dream. Maybe it wasn't a dream after all. I somehow travelled back in time and changed the course of events. This is fucking amazeballs!
Max laid her hand on the sleeping woman's shoulder. So I'm with Chloe in this reality or whatever this is, she thought. The blonde whined and opened her eyes and gave a flustered frown to the brunette.
"What is it?" Chloe grumbled.
"You, you're alive," Max said, genuine enthusiasm in her voice.
"Yeah, not dead yet," the blonde mumbled. "Can I please go back to sleep?"
"Are we in some fancy hotel?" Max asked. "This place looks pretty expensive."
"Fancy hotel, yeah right," Chloe snorted. "Go back to sleep."
A knock on the door broke the conversation. A tall woman in a business suit stepped in. It had been over twenty years, since Max had seen her last but she appeared not to have aged one year and the pixie haircut on the blonde hair was unmistakeable.
"Victoria, what are you doing here?"
Victoria Chase stepped inside the bedroom with a serious look on her face.
"Madam President," the blonde said. "Sorry to wake you up but you are needed in the Situation Room."
To be continued...
A/N: Welcome to my new story, 'Executive Rewind'! I got the idea for this story a couple of days ago and thought why not. So, all the game characters in story are 20 years older from their ages in the game. The story will take place on 2017, meaning that Max and other kids were born in the 70's and attended Blackwell in the early 90's. Hence, Max is a grunge girl instead of hipster and Chloe harks back to glory days of thrash metal. The presidential election in the U.S. is due in November, so I thought this story would be quite befitting.
I will be updating this story in turns with 'Ships in the Night'. Real life is taking more time now, so updates may be a bit sparse.
Please, do review and I hope you enjoy the story.