The Last Time Machine. Forum Upstairs TV Room

Along the corridor. Turn right. There be a room 7 x 7 of threadbare carpets, slippers and comfy shoes. If one were to look they would see a disused pipe snuggling into the arm rest.

The TV hums. Its static like an electric pylon down the hill. The little red light comes on. Standby.

The light flickers on and the TV set lights up. The red fades as two odd faces show themselves. One a shadow and a sign. T'other a peering eyes and brown hair. The shadowy man. A face soon forgotten leans into the screen.

Pause. The girl stops mid-peer.

A had stretches from the TV breaking through the glass like fingers through a waterfall. A reflection broken he struggles through and onto the floor.

Turning around he knocks the girl on the head a few times. There is that hollow sound of a TV screen. The figure laughs away as screams come down the corridor.

"Narnie..."

He pays no intention. Instead he turns off the TV and ejects a Dvd from the player and holds it up. He smiles.

To release, or not to release : that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the dvd to suffer
The the pausing and skipping of outrageous indifference
Or to watch the scenes in reverse, and by opposing to end them? To die: to sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we end credits
The extras and the thousand outtake shocks
That flesh is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To eject, to live;
To break: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that dvd sleep of hers what dreams may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal scanning laser,
Must give us pause: there's the endurability
That makes dvds of so long life;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,
The oppressor's wrong, the silly Ebby's kiss,
The pangs of pork scratching's love, the law's delay,
The insolence of husbands and the spurns
That patient acting of the unworthy retakes,
When she herself might her quietus make
With a bare bodkin? who's wood farts bear,
To grunt and sweat under a human life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The region one dvd from whose burning
No Keanu Reeve movie returns, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to other mansions that we know not of?
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,
And creates the great filth of moments
With this regard their current events turn awry,
And lose the dames of action.--Softly you die now!
The fair Narnie! Ebby! Nymphs, in my horizons
Be all my sins remember'd.
And gloried in forever.

Looks around.

"I need to release you. But how?"

"Smashing is too dangerous.... i need something made of glass..."

"Done for? Do not hide from me! There is much to do and know..."

Lifts the mirror from the wall. Its quite small and not to heavy. Then takes it back to the TV room and locks the door.

The mirror now rests in the arm chair on a worn out pillow.

"How shall i release you?"

There is only one way, and it may kill me, as you know.
Weigh it up.
You need me, my expertise, safety in numbers and all that.
I can stay in the mirrors, there may be many here, but I can do nothing but watch.

Do it...

Well i need you outside. But, i also needed the mirror. For me there is much to be feared in mirrors. If possible... all glass should be smashed. I fear it something terrible...

I reach into my pocket and withdraw a shard of glass.

You can see a shadowy beast hulking towards the mansion.

I hold the glass up towards you. Point aimed at your head.

Do it Dashwood.

I beg you, make it quick, before I change my mind.

(Closes her eyes, places hands on her stomach)

DONT JUST STAND THERE....... DO IT!

Turns the mirror around. "Always likes to take people from behind."

Then i slash deep. The glass shard wedges between the backboard and the frame. With a grinding of glass against metal and a snapping of board the backing falls off onto the floor.

"Feel free to step backwards anytime you want...if you wish to leave the mirror that is... Theres always a back entrance and exit."

I step out of the mirror.
I am half my usual density.
I crouch down and turn the mirror over, looking into the reflective side.
Tears drop, one, two, onto the glass. I blurr my reflection with my hand and pass the mirror to Dashwood, who takes it with both hands.
I slap my own face. Nothing.

"Slap me"

He slaps me gently

"Properly, slap me hard, obey my orders for once."

He shrugs, shifts the mirror to under his right arm and slaps me, hard, with his left hand. Instantly, a red hand-print mark appears on the unslapped side of my face, my left cheek.

"Oh, it's like he said, just like he said......I feel nothing. Where did it go, where is my slap?"

Sadist or masochist that is the question? Since when did i find the S&M girl?

Looks at Ebby and realises that she didnt come out the right size or shape.. thinks for a moment. Aha!

The lightbulb turns on. Ka-ching.

Grabs both ends of the mirror and stretches it to full length. suddenly Ebby straightens and regains her normal height...now the density...

Evades her flinging arms and tweaks her nostrils closed and blows hard into her mouth...bumpf!!!

Full size Ebby.

"call to your husband. Find another bedroom and take the mattress. Find two or three if you can. Clear the ballroom or hall under that chandelier. We're the horses they're the fools.

I'm going. Thanks for that. Keep in touch.

(she runs out of the door, heading for the Ballroom.

Theres a large poof and the sound of shattering glass.

I turn around and see a painting leaning against the wall. Its of me. Standing there thinking.

I think for a moment then pick up the painting. I look around then spy an internal closet.

Fantastic. I put the painting inside then cover it over with clothes and spare bedding. Once hidden i lock the door, slip the key in my pocket, then slide the chair infront of it.

Sweet. What next?

Oh, the floorboards.

Bursts back into the room, opens the cupboard and cuts the painting out of its frame... rolls it up and places it in my pocket then dashes back out of the room...