“I can travel through time,” the murderer explained.
Ah, of course. PC Milo, the officer tasked with the interrogation, pondered if Roger Sheen had a brain tumour or was perhaps banking on an insanity plea.
Sheen had no history of violence or aggression, was an honours student at college as a matter of fact and hadn’t as far as anyone knew even met Luke Moore before.
He just walked into a MacDonald’s one day. Brought out a knife from his rucksack and grabbing Moore by the hair, slit his throat. He then sat opposite the dead man’s screaming girlfriend and helped himself to her fries.
Now as he sat in the interrogation room, arms behind his head, legs upon the table, making clicking sounds with his tongue, he seemed the picture of serenity.
“I don’t need a time machine,” he went on. “I just close my eyes, think of a moment in time and I’m there. Back at Disneyland or my first day of school.”
“Huh uh,” PC Milo replied, “and what does this have to do with Mr. Luke Moore?”
“That son of a bitch?” Roger snorted “I sat next to him in MacDonald’s, finished eating, got up and left but he took the time to pat the window and call me back in.”
Here Roger’s voice took on a condescending, nasally whine.
“’Could you please put your tray by the bin.’” God, rude right? A dozen people were watching us, he was self-righteous, I was humiliated. So, grabbing him by the hair I slammed his fucking head on the table. That felt good, inhaling fine wine kind of good. Well, I travelled back in time again and again after that, finding new ways of hurting him. Like stabbing him in the kneecap or slitting his throat and watching the retard gulp. Fuck, I know what I’m wanking off to tonight.”
PC Milo had interviewed psychos before, so this talk didn’t exactly faze him, rather the bit about time travel had set the cogs in his head turning, remembering a little thing called multiverse theory. Johan Cribbs down at the Mary Ann had explained the idea after a few beers. “You can never change your original timeline sonny,” he hiccupped “only create an alternative one whenever you hop into your time machine.”
Why was Officer Milo thinking of that just now?
“Well,” Roger sighed “I’m a little hungry, maybe I’ll travel back in time, not sit next to that bastard and enjoy a Big Mac.”
He then closed his eyes and to the policeman’s utter surprise vanished with an audible pop. One moment he was there and then he was gone, like a jump cut from a silent film.
PC Milo slowly stood up, jaw on the floor. God, was everything the boy said true? But Milo was still here, wasn’t he? The universe or rather this version of the universe hadn’t reset, which meant the multiverse theory was…
Just how many timelines had the kid left in disarray?
