Author : Russell Bert Waters

My name is Alex.
Today is Saturday, September 24, 2016.
It’s a bit overcast outside.
There’s a nice breeze.
The trees are beginning to drop their leaves, and Autumn is right around the corner.
I hope this letter finds you well.
There are some things I feel I must tell you about; even warn you about.
A year ago, I invented a device to make events in time travel to me.
You read that right.
Not a device for me to travel in time, but quite the opposite.
Everyone who’s been working on this, to right wrongs, to make themselves wealthy, whatever their motivation, has been looking at it backwards.
I can’t go deeper into the technicalities.
I don’t have much time, I fear.
There are notebooks full of my findings, some of which are filled with information I eventually deemed irrelevant.
Yesterday, I killed a man using a discarded chunk of concrete at a construction site for a new Walmart.
I’m in hiding now, of course, as it’s very hard to do anything unseen these days.
Any time of the day or night, there are always people around.
The man I killed somehow had some of my notebooks.
They were not the irrelevant ones, unfortunately.
I’m not sure how long he had them.
Hopefully he didn’t show them to anyone, or make copies, but considering recent events, I feel that’s unlikely.
Someone’s coming, I need to stop writing now, I’ll tell you the whole story when I can come back here.
If I can come back here.

My name is Alex.
It is Saturday, September 24, 2016.
It’s about ten degrees below zero, actual temperature, and the howling wind outside makes it feel like it’s closer to twenty below.
About a year ago, the United States government’s researchers developed a device to bring various events in time to the user of the machine.
Evidently making matter, such as a human being, travel through time, is far less easy to achieve than it is to bring points in the timeline to the human in question.
The reason I’m writing this journal entry of sorts is because I’m scared.
I’m being hunted by serious men who seem to have unlimited resources.
I’m having strange dreams that I don’t understand.
I just want this all to end; I just want to be safe again.
Yesterday, I had to kill one of these men, at a construction site for one of the government-run mega stores.
I’m hiding in an abandoned out-building on some farm property outside of town.
I’m thankful to have found a bin containing one of the worker’s dirty coveralls.
Thermal-lined for extreme weather, super lightweight, and somehow it doesn’t make me sweat or feel hot.
I’m actually comfortable right now.
I’m not sure why I’m being hunted, but that’s the only word I can come up with for what’s been happening.
I know it’s only a matter of time before they get to me, and I need to tell you some things.
I need to warn you about some things.
I’m hearing some noises outside, I need to hide, I’ll write more later if I’m able to.

My name is Alex.
Today is Saturday, September 24, 2016.
The rain has slowed down some, but even when it’s raining it still feels tropical; the humidity doesn’t lessen one little bit.
It’s about 97 degrees right now.
Feels more like 115 in my opinion.
Last year, the Emperor’s valued research team developed a time travel machine.
I’m writing this letter because I’m scared.
Very, very, scared.