DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters, or all that they say. My
story came from the game: Titanic: Adventure out of time and is owned by
Cyberflix INCORPORATED. Not me.
The day began as another boring, inconspicuous day in London in 1942. I paced my room anxiously. Although it was mine, and I had lived there for quite some time, the apartment gave me an eerie feeling. I was never really quite sure what it was. It could have been the book of memories over against the wall. My memories book, consisted of only one thing. It was a newspaper clipping from The Daily Standard. The headline glared at me every time that I dared to open the cover: "TITANIC SINKS! 1250 PERISH!" It had been thirty years, but that horrible night would remain in my memory for eternity.
Maybe it wasn't even the book that haunted me so terribly. It could have been the desk of course. Or the letter contained in the drawer. I knew that letter by heart. "His majesty's government regrets to inform you that your services in the Office of the Secret Service are no longer needed. Termination to be effective immediately." Commander T.S.D. Hipple, who was once my colleague and my friend, had signed at the bottom of the letter. In my drawer I had various other things. Such as letters from friends, and a ticket I had never used.
I sighed, and turned on the radio. Today they were playing classical music. I sat in my chair, listening to the music with a slight smile on my face. But the music was soon interrupted by a feminine voice.
"To begin today's top stories, London has endured another night of German bombing. Most damage was concentrated in the east end. The RAF has struck enemy aerodromes in l'arvlor and the Low Countries. In Russia, further German losses are reported around Leningrad. In Asia, the American fortressed Corregidor is still defiant, but Japanese forces are reported nearing the Bernice oil fields. And that concludes the news summary. We now return you to our music program."
I sighed as the music continued to play once again. I stood, and paced the room. The war was getting closer. I approached the desk a gazed down at my pocket watch. Maybe after all, it was the watch that haunted me. I was holding that watch the day the ship went down. I know the truth. I remember the words that will stay with me forever. The day my job, my life was taken from me.
"See here. This isn't about your dedication. Pringle certainly attests to you loyalty. No your dismissal stems from the Titanic mission. That failure can no longer be ignored. Especially now. I am sorry, but someone must shoulder the blade. The service you understand. We can't be held responsible."
I never did really understand why I couldn't come back. Even if I did only return to do paperwork and such. I walked over to the door, and came face to face with my landlord. I wanted to close the door in her face, but she held her hand up.
"Carlson! It's about time your awake!" I tried to slip out into the hallway, but she stopped me. "Sneakin out are ye? I want me money!" I sighed, and closed the door. Money? Now that was something I didn't have a lot of. The old hag continued to talk. "They said you was important. Not now, now you're just old. Old and broke."
"Fine, we have that established, now can I leave?" I opened the door again, but she screamed in my face so I slammed it again.
"WHEN YOU AGET ME MONEY! WHEN?" I rolled my eyes, and walked over to the radio, and shut it off. It was beginning to grate at my nerves. I needed to think. I sit in my chair, but suddenly, a chorus of sirens, buzzing of plans, and shouts break out, rooting me from me seat. I hurry to the window, and I can see bombs crashing and London burning below. I draw in my breath stepping back slightly. A burst of bright fire flashes in front of me, and something crashes against the window. Shortly after, the entire room is engulfed in flames.
I opened my eyes sometime later. I was in a dream. I see the ocean as it had been all those years ago... and my clock. A dull, monotonous ticking floods my ears. The hands of time are spinning backwards, and I can hear my own voice echoing through my thoughts as I journey above the icy water.
"The past. Forever locked in regret. But what if... the past could be changed? Thirty years have come and gone since the night that saw the end of the world. My world. The service needed someone on the Titanic. They chose me. I was to wait for a signal from my contact. So, I remained in my cabin. I left only once. Georgia was on board. And that's when it came there'd be no second chance. It was Sunday, April 14; to late you see, for the Titanic, for me. What if I'd met with my contact? Prevented disaster? What if the past could be changed? What then?"
I was lost in those words, the words I wanted so desperately to block out. Those things, I had often thought about throughout the past thirty years. Lost in my own thoughts, I almost didn't notice the great ship looming before me. I saw the windows. All of the many cabins, and finally, found myself sitting inside of one. I looked around my old cabin... C-73. Things would have to be different this time around.
The day began as another boring, inconspicuous day in London in 1942. I paced my room anxiously. Although it was mine, and I had lived there for quite some time, the apartment gave me an eerie feeling. I was never really quite sure what it was. It could have been the book of memories over against the wall. My memories book, consisted of only one thing. It was a newspaper clipping from The Daily Standard. The headline glared at me every time that I dared to open the cover: "TITANIC SINKS! 1250 PERISH!" It had been thirty years, but that horrible night would remain in my memory for eternity.
Maybe it wasn't even the book that haunted me so terribly. It could have been the desk of course. Or the letter contained in the drawer. I knew that letter by heart. "His majesty's government regrets to inform you that your services in the Office of the Secret Service are no longer needed. Termination to be effective immediately." Commander T.S.D. Hipple, who was once my colleague and my friend, had signed at the bottom of the letter. In my drawer I had various other things. Such as letters from friends, and a ticket I had never used.
I sighed, and turned on the radio. Today they were playing classical music. I sat in my chair, listening to the music with a slight smile on my face. But the music was soon interrupted by a feminine voice.
"To begin today's top stories, London has endured another night of German bombing. Most damage was concentrated in the east end. The RAF has struck enemy aerodromes in l'arvlor and the Low Countries. In Russia, further German losses are reported around Leningrad. In Asia, the American fortressed Corregidor is still defiant, but Japanese forces are reported nearing the Bernice oil fields. And that concludes the news summary. We now return you to our music program."
I sighed as the music continued to play once again. I stood, and paced the room. The war was getting closer. I approached the desk a gazed down at my pocket watch. Maybe after all, it was the watch that haunted me. I was holding that watch the day the ship went down. I know the truth. I remember the words that will stay with me forever. The day my job, my life was taken from me.
"See here. This isn't about your dedication. Pringle certainly attests to you loyalty. No your dismissal stems from the Titanic mission. That failure can no longer be ignored. Especially now. I am sorry, but someone must shoulder the blade. The service you understand. We can't be held responsible."
I never did really understand why I couldn't come back. Even if I did only return to do paperwork and such. I walked over to the door, and came face to face with my landlord. I wanted to close the door in her face, but she held her hand up.
"Carlson! It's about time your awake!" I tried to slip out into the hallway, but she stopped me. "Sneakin out are ye? I want me money!" I sighed, and closed the door. Money? Now that was something I didn't have a lot of. The old hag continued to talk. "They said you was important. Not now, now you're just old. Old and broke."
"Fine, we have that established, now can I leave?" I opened the door again, but she screamed in my face so I slammed it again.
"WHEN YOU AGET ME MONEY! WHEN?" I rolled my eyes, and walked over to the radio, and shut it off. It was beginning to grate at my nerves. I needed to think. I sit in my chair, but suddenly, a chorus of sirens, buzzing of plans, and shouts break out, rooting me from me seat. I hurry to the window, and I can see bombs crashing and London burning below. I draw in my breath stepping back slightly. A burst of bright fire flashes in front of me, and something crashes against the window. Shortly after, the entire room is engulfed in flames.
I opened my eyes sometime later. I was in a dream. I see the ocean as it had been all those years ago... and my clock. A dull, monotonous ticking floods my ears. The hands of time are spinning backwards, and I can hear my own voice echoing through my thoughts as I journey above the icy water.
"The past. Forever locked in regret. But what if... the past could be changed? Thirty years have come and gone since the night that saw the end of the world. My world. The service needed someone on the Titanic. They chose me. I was to wait for a signal from my contact. So, I remained in my cabin. I left only once. Georgia was on board. And that's when it came there'd be no second chance. It was Sunday, April 14; to late you see, for the Titanic, for me. What if I'd met with my contact? Prevented disaster? What if the past could be changed? What then?"
I was lost in those words, the words I wanted so desperately to block out. Those things, I had often thought about throughout the past thirty years. Lost in my own thoughts, I almost didn't notice the great ship looming before me. I saw the windows. All of the many cabins, and finally, found myself sitting inside of one. I looked around my old cabin... C-73. Things would have to be different this time around.