Warm In The Shadows

I gave myself the challenge to write something based on or inspired by music. The following piece is a short story inspired by this song:

(Click Here if you can't see the embedded video)

"The first time I went back, I felt this twinge..." Michael stopped, pressed his hand to his chest, and took a deep breath. His lungs filled with the warm, familiar air of home. "Of course, I thought it was excitement. I'd done the impossible. We had done the impossible!" His eyes widened. They were the eyes of a madman, filled with joy, fear, and terror. "But that chill I felt run down my spine, it happened each time I left, and every time I went back it got worse."

Michael looked at himself. He was worn and tired. Gaunt. Looking into his own eyes was like looking at an old photograph, the person looks familiar but at the same time seems like a complete stranger. The man he saw before him looked old, weak, and ravaged by time. Michael turned away, looking down at the floor rather than face the truth. "You shouldn't be here. We both know I shouldn't be talking to you. This breaks every rule in the book."

"There is no book!" He stepped forward, his anger and frustration driving him closer. Michael wanted to grab him by the shoulders and force him to understand, but once again he felt the cold run down his spine. Returning to the shadows, Michael took another deep breath. The warmth he felt in his chest eased the sudden stinging pain. "You don't understand. We created something very dangerous. Using the machine has changed me. Physiologically."

The damage was obvious, there was no denying that. Not only did he seem scrawny and emaciated, he also seemed to glow. Even in the darkness his skin reflected light, and the moment he stepped out of the shadows the temperature of the room dropped significantly. Could the machine have done this much harm? "Why come back then? Why keep using the time machine if it does this to you? Judging by how you look, I look, we had plenty of time to stop before getting this sick."

Michael looked down at his hands, wrinkled and blue, and then back up to himself. He sighed and a tear ran down his cheek. Resigning to another failure, he repeated a speech he had said countless times before. "I'm here to try and stop you. I've tried to stop you before, and each time I fail. I warn you, but eventually you use the machine anyway. Time... it's not what you think. I'm not what you think. I can't be sure, but I think I'm only a year older."