A Time Traveler's Companion: Chapter 32 His New Face Excerpt

(An excerpt from Chapiter 32: His New Face

Trigger warning: Mild sexual content)

I found myself frozen in place, gazing at the open door. Mr. Smith stepped into my room. “Please let me explain,” he urged, referring to his sudden change. His blue eyes scanned my room, hinting that he suspected Melanie had been there, yet he seemed oddly unconcerned about it now. His focus was on me, and he noticed the tears cascading down my face; I quickly brushed them away with my hand and sat on my bed. 

 “Why did you take that body?” I looked at him, bewildered and echoed the question, “Why that body?” He came over and sat beside me. He pulled me close and softly kissed my lips. I wrapped my arms around him and noticed how sharp he looked in his light brown coat, a grey T-shirt, and jeans paired with black high-top sneakers. His short light brown hair was neatly styled, and his stunning blue eyes shone brightly as he gazed into mine. He doesn’t resemble the young man who shot him in 1936 San Francisco. He looks clean, and well-groomed. He let out a deep sigh and said, “Remi, I never intended to frighten you. I had no idea how my change would impact you. I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to abandon you here, but I wanted to give you time to think,” he paused.

“Yes, I should’ve been here when you woke up so we could talk about what happened. I genuinely apologize.” I nodded, taking in his words. After a moment, I finally said, “This is so overwhelming. It feels weird talking to the young man who shot you, but here we are. I apologize if I seemed a bit off; it’s just that…,” 

He cut in, “It’s the surprise of seeing me in a different body that threw you off. I understand. I need you to know, that I feel changed, somewhat—there’s a piece of that young man inside me, but I’m still me, your Mr. Smith.”

I asked him, “What was that man truly like,” I paused then said, “I can’t help but think some part of him lingered when you took his body.”  

He exhaled deeply and said, "He was 25, out of work, and resorted to stealing out of sheer desperation. Life was tough during the 1930s, and he was struggling to get by, living on the streets and doing whatever it took to survive.” I nodded in understanding, releasing a sigh as I wiped away the tears that had formed in my eyes. He grasped my hand softly and pressed a tender kiss on it. His stunning blue eyes locked onto mine, and I could sense his intentions. Yet a wave of uncertainty washed over me; I wasn't sure if I was prepared to dive into intimacy with him just yet.

(This novel is written in first person however, that last three chapters of the book moves over to a third person narrative since the chapters take place 200 years after Remi passed away and Mr. Smith is in his 5th incarnation.)

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A Time Traveler's Companion: Excerpt-Chapter 20: The AI & Me

 

Mr. Smith's face changed and instantly he yelled, “Run!” He snatched the urn, feeling a surge of electricity that almost knocked him off his feet, but he fought hard to stay upright. I dashed toward the exit, with the android hot on our heels as we sprinted through the tunnel. It fired its weapon at us several times, but each shot went wide. "Is it possible for you to teleport the monolith into the tunnels?" he asked the AI.

Our breaths matched the frantic pace of our racing hearts, a shared panic settled as we realized the danger we were in. The monolith appeared a few yards away, however as we neared, I suddenly felt a searing blast go through me, like fire consuming my very body. The next thing I remember is waking up in the infirmary. I scanned my surroundings and realized that I was wrapped in that peculiar bio-skin substance, akin to the one Mr. Smith had instructed me to apply to his body when he was injured back in the 1930s. 

I felt completely immobilized, as if I were frozen in place, yet I could still speak and shift my gaze. I shut my eyes, attempting to piece together the events that led me here. “Are you having trouble recalling what transpired?” the AI asked.

 “Yes, could you please explain what happened?” My voice came out faint and fragile. The AI began to reveal the events on the holographic screen above me. It appeared that the AI had been capturing nearly everything occurring around and within the monolith, which unsettled me. I watched as Mr. Smith, and I raced through the tunnels. Just as we approached the monolith, a sudden jolt of pain shot through my back, courtesy of the android's weapon. The impact was overwhelming. Mr. Smith quickly yanked me inside, and in an instant, the monolith disappeared. I found myself lying on the operating table in the infirmary, blood seeping from my wound. Mr. Smith looked terrified, his eyes brimming with tears. “Can you save her?” he asked the AI, his voice trembling with dread.

“Yes, but she will need to undergo the same procedure you have experienced each time you were gravely injured,” It paused, “Maybe it’s time to consider letting her go, and possess her body,” it stated bluntly. Mr. Smith’s face turned crimson, “How could you even propose that?” he shouted, his anger palpable. “I already have a new body prepared, just in case this one dies.” 

He exhaled deeply, his voice firm as he commanded, “Make her better.” I appeared lifeless, which was hardly surprising given that I was teetering on the edge of death once again. He exited the room, and suddenly, a brilliant light enveloped my body. High-tech medical devices descended from the ceiling, beginning the intricate process of mending the wound in my abdomen, where the blaster burned right through me. I observed as the AI worked, injecting nanites into my body that swiftly mended my injury. They resemble tiny mites, bustling around and fixing the damaged tissue. The holo-screen turned off. I closed my eyes; I believe I was unconscious again. An unexpected memory surged into my mind-I recall having a face-to-face conversation with the AI. It was in its true form, it appeared as a black humanoid figure, akin to a mannequin yet possessing the fluidity of human movement. 

Its eyes were mere slits, glowing with an eerie crimson light. It loomed in front of me as we stood face to face within the wall of the monolith. 

"How can I be here while my body is there?" I questioned, my voice trembling as I gazed at it in terror. "Am I... dead?" I asked. It came closer, moving deliberately as it extended a hand toward my cheek. I instinctively recoiled. As it shifted, the AI's movements echoed those of the android from Terminator 2, particularly the police officer in his authentic state. Upon closer inspection, the AI’s skin resembled a dark liquid, shifting and flowing as it changed position. However, there was an unsettling shadow, a foreboding presence surrounding the AI that sent a shiver down my spine. 

“No, you are not dead, I brought your mind to this place while your body undergoes repair,” it replied.

“Are you really female?” I asked.

“Absolutely, I can be whatever he desires. Since he wished for me to embody Melanie’s image, I appear as her on occasion,” it paused then added, “Eventually, I will take on your likeness, one day.” Its words sent a chill through me, but I managed to ask, “What makes you say that?”

“Do you not grasp the situation? You won't live forever, but he will and when your time comes, your very essence will merge within these walls. Just like what occurred with Melanie, the woman whose body Ona now possesses.” Hearing this from the AI left me in a state of shock and fear. "Let me out of here at once," I insisted. I pressed my hands against the dark glass. Mr. Smith walked into the infirmary, and he stood over my body. I banged on the surface of the glass wall, but he couldn't hear my cries for help.

 “Mr. Smith, please help me! I’m stuck in here,” I shouted. The AI hovered closely behind me, its fingers brushing through my hair with an odd sense of curiosity. “It appears he’s more taken with you than I thought,” the AI remarked. I instinctively moved away from it. In an instant, I found myself back in my own body. Mr. Smith had just stepped out of the room as my eyes shot open, I gasped for air. I was staring up at the ceiling in confusion. Hours passed, and as my body regained strength, I noticed that the bio-skin substance had melded seamlessly into my own skin. Mr. Smith entered and gently lifted me, carrying me to his room for some much-needed rest. “Remi, I promise to take you home after our final adventure. We’re heading to the 1800s, but for now, just rest my love,” he said, kissing me deeply and covering my naked body with the soft, comforting sheets.

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Excerpt from Chapter 6

Remi & Mr. Smith in the 1930s

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A New Face Chapter 1 excerpt

A Time Traveler's Companion: Remi and Mr. Smith Visit the 1930s

 

(An excerpt from A Time Traveler's Companion chapter 13 .Trigger warning: Sexual content)

After our steamy encounter, we decided to get dressed up in 1930s outfits. He was dressed in a pair of brown trousers that had a relaxed fit, paired with sleek black suspenders and a coordinating blazer. Underneath, he wore a sharp white button-up shirt, and to add a touch of flair, he had a handkerchief neatly placed in the left pocket of his blazer. To finish off his outfit, he sported a fashionable hat reminiscent of the 1930s, which really tied the whole look together perfectly. My ensemble features a crisp white button-up blouse for women, with the sleeves casually rolled up about a quarter of the way. I’ve paired it with a stylish brown vest and some tailored slacks held up by suspenders. To complete the look, I’m wearing elegant black pumps that have that classic 1930s vibe and gold dangle earrings. 

He assisted me in getting my hair done in that classic 1930s style, just like the glamorous women of that era. Then, he handed me a tube of red lipstick and said, “You should wear this.” I applied it, and when he saw me, his face lit up with a smile, and he leaned in to give me a kiss. “Beautiful,” he said, clearly impressed.

We totally rocked those brown outfits, looking like the ultimate duo. The monolith is a treasure trove of clothing from all sorts of eras, offering a wild mix of styles. It can whip up anything Mr. Smith dreams up. He described the monolith as a massive AI computer, capable of creating 3D replicas from any time in history.

 “Wow, I can’t believe we are here,” I said as I stepped out of the monolith and looked around.

  “Mr. Smith, where are we?” He lightly chuckled and said, “You still call me Mr. Smith, I find that adorable.” I blushed as he took my hand in his.

 "We are in Los Angeles," he remarked. I turned around, only to realize that the monolith had vanished from view.

 "I can’t believe this is Los Angeles!" I exclaimed, absorbing the vibrant surroundings.

  "What makes you say that?" he asked, curiously.

 "It's simply astonishing," I replied, with wide eyes and added, “It’s not like the Los Angeles that I know, it’s different, newer I guess.” The bustling crowd, the pristine streets, and the architecture of it struck me as a stark contrast to the Los Angeles I was familiar with. My great-grandmother experienced this time and witnessing it through my perspective, captivates him. He enjoys seeing the excitement on my face when we go on our adventures. He can tell that I'm genuinely impressed, kind of like how a guy with a flashy car knows it’ll catch the attention of women. But honestly, what I feel is way beyond just being impressed by a car. Going on adventures with Zyrius, aka Mr. Smith, is an experience that’s both deep and thrilling. 

"What month is it?” I asked. 

“July 20^th, 1936,” he responded. A captivating woman walked by, flashing him a teasing smile that caught his attention. I pursed my lips and shot her a disapproving glare. Mr. Smith turned to acknowledge her with a nod, but soon his gaze fell on my sour expression. He drew me in closer and placed a gentle kiss on my cheek, which brought a smile to my face. 

“You look so cute when you’re jealous,” he remarked, his grin widening. The monolith was parked in a nearby alley; it cloaked itself to keep hidden from prying eyes. We paused in front of a theater, scanning the marquee to see what films were currently showing. “Trapped by Television, maybe we can come and see this movie later,” he suggested and gave me a smile, placing his arm around my waist, he waved down a taxi. I noticed him fiddling with his ring as we sat in the back seat. A thought occurred to me, I should’ve asked Melanie about the ring and the origin of it. The taxi dropped us off at a nice hotel. 

“Thank you, sir, here’s extra for your troubles,” Mr. Smith gave him a handsome tip. The man gave us a warm smile and a slight nod of his head. As we entered the hotel, Mr. Smith took charge of the check-in process. “We’ll be staying for two nights, allowing us to soak in the charm of the 1930s during our visit,” he remarked, while the receptionist handed him the room key. The bellboy, eager to assist, asked, “Sir, do you have any luggage?” To which he replied, “No,” before generously tipping the bellboy, who accepted it with a puzzled yet grateful grin. With that, we made our way to the elevator and to our room. Time traveling feels incredibly surreal, and I can't express how thankful I am to have crossed paths with Mr. Smith; he has opened my eyes to so many new experiences. The walls in the room are painted in a soothing olive-green color, complemented by a charming white wooden trim that runs along the rounded edges near the ceiling, halting just above the windows. The windows themselves are dressed in elegant gold and olive-green floral curtains, layered with delicate white lace curtains that provide a touch of privacy. The room is furnished with two cozy chairs, a quaint breakfast table, and a full-size bed that features matching covers, echoing the lovely pattern of the curtains. I sat on the bed. 

Mr. Smith put a DO NOT DISTURB sign on the doorknob, looked at me and winked with a flirtatious smile playing on his lips. "Remi, we have a little while before the movie starts," he said, his voice dripping with a playful allure. He settled beside me, and I met his gaze with a teasing glance, my heart racing with anticipation. I stole a quick glance at the clock; it was 4:30 PM, and the world outside felt distant, leaving us with ample time to indulge in our desires. With a casual flick, he removed his hat and sauntered over to the breakfast table, placing it down with a deliberate slowness. As he began to shed his clothes, I followed suit. The curtains were drawn tight, and the door was securely locked, enveloping us in a cocoon of intimacy where only our shared breaths and whispered secrets existed. He enveloped me in his strong embrace, my legs instinctively encircling his waist as he lifted me effortlessly. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, and he carefully lowered me onto the soft bed, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered, “Remi, you’re so beautiful.” His lips trailed a tantalizing path along my neck, descending slowly to my breasts, where he lavished attention on my sensitive nipples. With a playful flick of his tongue, he teased and nibbled, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me as I tangled my fingers in his hair, lost in the moment. The moment I learned that Leila had successfully delivered the birth control pills, a wave of relief washed over me, freeing me from the burden of worry. Logically, I reasoned that if he belonged to a different species, the likelihood of pregnancy should be virtually nonexistent. Yet, Melanie's cautionary words lingered in my mind, “Birdie, since Mr. Smith is in human form, there's a chance you could actually get pregnant.” She had shared this insight during one of our meals at a quaint 1950s Diner in Anaheim California, a trip in time that we took while Mr. Smith was away for a few days. The weight of her statement resonated deeply, ultimately influencing my decision to start taking the Pill. As Mr. Smith moved down toward my pelvic region, my heart skipped a beat, his tongue caressed my throbbing core, sliding his tongue in and out, wiggling it at the tip of my clit, making me moan vociferously.

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(Due to the content, I skipped to the part below)

The next day, we made our way to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a stunning architectural marvel situated on Wilshire Boulevard. My previous visit had been during a high school field trip, so the memories came flooding back as I stepped inside. It looked a little different than what I remember. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to Mr. Smith, and asked, “Why are we here?”

With a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, he responded, “There’s something here that I must acquire.” As we wandered through the museum, we immersed ourselves in the captivating displays of artifacts, vibrant paintings, and exquisite antique jewelry, each piece telling its own unique story. I stumbled upon this gorgeous brooch that was crafted from gold, featuring a brilliant sapphire right in the middle, about the size of a quarter, and encircled by a ring of sparkling diamonds. The design resembled a beautiful flower, and I was completely captivated by its sheer elegance. Mr. Smith, noticing the admiration in my gaze, turned to me and said, “Remi, I promise that one day I’ll gift you a gorgeous pendant.” My heart skipped a beat, and a gentle smile spread across my face. “Tonight, when this place closes, we’re going to come back,” he whispered.

A wave of confusion washed over me as I studied his expression, but it quickly dawned on me that he was plotting to snatch the brooch. My heart raced, and I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm as I scanned the room, anxiety creeping in. As we inched back toward the wall, I couldn't help but scan the crowd with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. They seemed completely absorbed in the stunning artifacts displayed in the shiny glass cases, completely unaware of my unease. He stayed totally cool, radiating a chill confidence that suggested nothing could throw him off balance.

 The next day, we made our way to the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, a stunning architectural marvel situated on Wilshire Boulevard. My previous visit had been during a high school field trip, so the memories came flooding back as I stepped inside. It looked a little different than what I remember. Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to Mr. Smith, and asked, “Why are we here?”

With a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, he responded, “There’s something here that I must acquire.” As we wandered through the museum, we immersed ourselves in the captivating displays of artifacts, vibrant paintings, and exquisite antique jewelry, each piece telling its own unique story. I stumbled upon this gorgeous brooch that was crafted from gold, featuring a brilliant sapphire right in the middle, about the size of a quarter, and encircled by a ring of sparkling diamonds. The design resembled a beautiful flower, and I was completely captivated by its sheer elegance. Mr. Smith, noticing the admiration in my gaze, turned to me and said, “Remi, I promise that one day I’ll gift you a gorgeous pendant.” My heart skipped a beat, and a gentle smile spread across my face. “Tonight, when this place closes, we’re going to come back,” he whispered.

A wave of confusion washed over me as I studied his expression, but it quickly dawned on me that he was plotting to snatch the brooch. My heart raced, and I felt my eyes grow wide with alarm as I scanned the room, anxiety creeping in. As we inched back toward the wall, I couldn't help but scan the crowd with a mix of anxiety and curiosity. They seemed completely absorbed in the stunning artifacts displayed in the shiny glass cases, completely unaware of my unease. He stayed totally cool, radiating a chill confidence that suggested nothing could throw him off balance.

 "So, what's our plan for stealing that?" I whispered, a bit sheepishly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creeping in. Mr. Smith leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on my forehead, smiling as he said, “You’re absolutely adorable.” He then locked eyes with me, his expression serious yet warm, and continued, “I’ll explain everything once we’re back in our room.” He lightly traced his finger along the surface of his ring before taking my hand, guiding me into another room that was completely empty; save for the artwork adorning the walls. There, the monolith loomed, seamlessly merging with its surroundings, almost camouflaged among the exhibits. Anyone who happened to catch sight of it would likely assume it was just another piece of the collection, blending effortlessly into the curated space. My breath caught in my throat as I exclaimed, “Oh my god, what if someone sees us?” My voice trembled with anxiety. He simply shook his head, reassuring me as we stepped into the monolith, which then vanished, transporting us back to our hotel room. A wave of nerves washed over me as I contemplated the heist ahead. 

“Remi, my love, don’t fret; I’ll guide you through my methods,” he promised, and while I nodded in response, a lingering sense of uncertainty still gnawed at me. “Mr. Smith, why do you need to steal it?" It was a valid inquiry, yet somewhat simplistic. He let out a derisive laugh, responding, "Butterfly, a client from the year 2203 has commissioned me for it. They intend to purchase it from me, and since I possess the ability to traverse time, I often explore various periods to acquire specific artifacts. I ensure to substitute the brooch with a replica generated by the AI within the monolith, so the original items remain undetected as missing," he explained with an air of nonchalance. "Well, I guess. It is the 1930s, a time when high-tech devices for verifying authenticity simply don't exist," I remarked. He chuckled and shook his head, adding, "No need to fret about that; the AI is the pinnacle of high-tech innovation you could ask for," he quipped, giving me a playful wink. It was clear that he was no stranger to ventures like this one; perhaps Melanie had already caught wind of his unusual pursuits. With a resigned sigh, I nodded in agreement. Later in the evening we stepped into the monolith and dressed in the black fitted jumpsuits. The monolith appeared inside the museum after closing. There is a security guard that walks the hallways but with the help of the AI, Mr. Smith can pinpoint his location.

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