Willoughby Franklin was one of the most intelligent people of his day. His parents sent him off to higher education, hoping he would one day run their company, or at the very least, start one of his own. Instead, he chose a life of service. He was a member of ROTC while he was earning his bachelor’s degree from St. Louis University, as a civil engineering major. He then joined the United States Army, and ultimately the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers. When he was well into his career, a stranger approached him with a video file. The film was a collection of footage, showing Willoughby recovering from a severe gunshot wound to the head. It also showed him undergoing multiple surgeries, working through physical therapy, and coping with his new life. To the best of his recollection, Willoughby had never experienced any of this. His brain, and his intellect, were entirely intact. Unless he was going through life with both no memory, and no grasp on reality, this had never happened. The stranger gave him an address, and a time to be there, then quite literally disappeared around the corner before Willoughby could press him for more details. Who was this man in the video? Was it a twin he never knew about? A clone? What? He decided to show up at the address, not sure what to expect, but too worried about his own sanity to involve anyone else as backup. He found nothing of note in the abandoned house, until the walls of the living room began to transform. The walls gave way to molten video screens. More footage appeared, this time of Willoughby’s life growing up. Some scenes he recognized, but others he did not. Some even looked like they were of him, but much older. It showed people who were actually in his life, and wouldn’t have lied to him about a twin, so that theory didn’t hold up. Perhaps his entire family had been cloned too, along with a few neighborhood friends. Yet someone would have also had to build exact replicas of the two houses he lived in as a child, and that felt quite unlikely. No, this seemed to just be him, except he didn’t remember all these home movies. Finally, the montage was over, and the stranger walked in from the other door. He ceremoniously held up a small device that resembled a USB stick. “My surrogate father wore this after he was discharged for medical reasons,” the stranger said. “He suffered so much brain trauma that he couldn’t remember much of his life...or me, so he needed it as reminder. I recovered it from his body after he was finally killed, and sent it with an enemy of his killer, who I knew would be slipping into a divergent timeline. He then sought out the alternate version of me, and helped me get my memories back. I remember who I was when you were my father, and I remember this timeline now.” When Willoughby—who, of course, wasn’t wholly sold on the idea that there was some other version of him running around a parallel timeline—asked the stranger what he wanted, he smiled. “I want you to help me kill the man who killed you first.”
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My name is Nick Fisherman III. It's not my real name, but that's not because I'm trying to hide from my former agency, or something. I named myself after someone I've known for most of my life, and he chose it in honor of his late best friend. I took up writing when I found myself failing 8th grade science, and realized I might never reach my dream of becoming a biochemist, a meteorologist, and a quantum physicist. I started developing my canon after a scouting trip to an island inspired what I thought would be my first novel. I founded this website upon the advice of many people, who told me I needed to get my work out there, and not wait for an agent to accept my manuscript. You can expect one new story every day. Weekdays are for microstories, which are one or two paragraphs long. They're usually only thematically linked, so you won't have to read one to understand another, but they do sometimes tell a combined story. Sundays are for my continuous longer story, The Advancement of Mateo Matic, which I started in the beginning, and won't end until 2066. Saturdays are for long series, most of which take place in the same universe as Mateo, and add to the larger mythology.
Thursday, May 30, 2019
Microstory 1114: Willoughby Franklin
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injury
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killing
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