This fiction piece was published in December 2024 on Witcraft, which has since sadly closed. So now, it’ll stay here. Thank you for everything, Doug Jacquier!
Recorded on May 19th, 6124
Jean: Hello. My name is Jean, next to me is Nat, and we just killed the President.
Nat: Okay, Jesus—no. Go back.
Jean: Go back? This is audio, I can’t just control z.
Nat: Yeah, erase it, dumb-ass. New recording.
Jean: No! This is our one shot! Our confession!
Nat: Yeah, our criminal confession! Start this shit over! We need to give them context!
Jean: We’ll give them context in court.
Nat: In a weird future court? Do we even know if they still do court?Start over.
Jean: No!
[muffled sounds]
Recorded on May 19th, 6124
Nat: My name is Nat.
Jean: My name is Jean.
Nat: We are from the twenty-first century, and somehow—
Jean: We killed the President.
Nat: Oh my god, Jean! Context!
Jean: I can’t do this! I need to confess! I was raised Catholic!
Nat: For the love of-
Recorded on May 19th, 6124
Nat: Hello. My name is Nat, next to me is Jean, and we, unwillingly, have time traveled. In the accident, Jean and I-
Jean: We killed the President.
Nat: -killed the president. Yes. We are sorry.
Jean: Also, we’re stuck in the wrong year.
Nat: Again, sorry.
Jean: Also also, we’re stuck in the wrong year’s… broom closet? I can’t tell if these are cleaning supplies.
Nat: And off the record, I need to pee.
Jean: Nat!
Nat: What? We’re confessing!
Jean: Well take that one back! I’m not letting you piss in here!
Nat: I don’t want to! But I haven’t peed in years–
Jean: Oh my God-
Recorded on May 19h, 6124
Jean: My name is Jean.
Nat: My name is Nat.
Jean: We just killed a future janitor.
Nat: Fuck.
Jean: Yeah, fuck. I’m beginning to fear these people are allergic to us or something, because we… we have blood on our hands.
Nat: Only metaphorically. We never actually drew blood.
Jean: Shut up.
Nat: Yep.
Jean: Point is… sorry.
[jingling]
Jean: Sorry for the President, and this janitor, and are those keys?
Nat: Yup. Future keys.
[closer jingling]
Nat: On a future carabiner.
Jean: Does the future carabiner have a way home?
Nat: Hmm… a key to the past…
Jean: Nat please I am literally having a mental breakdown right now.
Nat: Sorry. No, I don’t see anything like what got us here. But…
[a door opening]
Recorded on May 19th, 6124
[distant yelling]
Jean: We have fatally injured seventeen guards.
Nat: Are you seriously recording right now?
Jean: I’m coping!
[nearby yelling]
Nat: Jesus Christ—the future probably has great hospitals! I’m sure they’ll be fine!
[closer yelling]
Nat: Shit!
Jean: Green door with weird lock! Get the weird green future key!
[Nat yelling]
[door opening]
Jean: Orb! Orb thing! Orb!
[static]
Recorded on May 19th, 2024
[birds chirping]
Jean: My name is Jean.
Nat: I’m Nat.
Jean: We killed… well, did we?
Nat: Oh yeah, huh. The future… well… maybe?
Jean: Right now, we didn’t.
Nat: But like. We did.
Jean: For sure. But like… right now… in this moment in time… are we innocent?
Nat: I… if I say no, will you be able to live with it?
Jean: … No.
Nat: Then yes. Yup. Completely and fully innocent.
Jean: I’m still Catholic enough to go with that.
Nat: Sick.
[woodpecker hammering]
Jean: We need to bury this tape.
Nat: Please.