rosanicus: (timeflies)
[personal profile] rosanicus
Full disclosure: I had already mentally planned a response fic to [personal profile] sholio's excellent time loop shenanigans fic for Febuwhump. And then an hour or so ago I opened DW to discover that [personal profile] philomytha had written an excellent response of her own, which I highly recommend for all your angsty needs!! Two cakes theory thus in effect, this is my second idea for a time loop fic, loosely inspired by both fics but firmly in its own universe.

The scientific method had not yet produced satisfactory results. Erich sighed, looking down at his newly-written pages of days-old notes. It had become worryingly easy to write an account of each failed attempt, growing less detailed and more detached each time he once again awoke on the narrow bed of this cheap hotel.

Changing only one thing each time was an exercise in boredom. Changing many things resulted, invariably, in an excess of pain.

Admitting defeat was not an option. There was some mechanism behind what Erich had begun to think of as a sort of purgatory, and he would uncover it no matter how many times it killed him - occasionally out of what he could only describe as spite.

He did not always die. This he discovered on the day he did not leave his room, staring at the glowing hands of his watch until they ticked over to midnight. Then he blinked, and found himself flat on his back with the noise of the dustmen outside the window.

It had been perhaps twenty days – or what passed for them. On the first morning he had spent some time in front of his shaving mirror, poking uselessly at the place he knew the bullet had struck his throat.

The ritual had not been helpful, and yet Erich repeated it several times, in an increasingly frantic way, before he finally accepted that death would not be the end. Then he had spent some days following leads, discovered his original murderer, learned his routines, and killed him.

Waking up after that had been difficult.

So bloody revenge would not work. He reported the man to the authorities on his next attempt, early in the morning from a public phone box. When that failed to work, he began reporting the man to different departments, from the Ministry of Defense to the territorial army. This morning he had at last yielded to a selfish urge and called the Air Police.

He was close to running out of paper. He took a sip of his coffee, long-cold, and shuffled through the sheets in search of any extra space. A shadow fell across the table.

He looked up. There was no point reaching for a weapon; death was painful but would be a much more effective escape than being arrested for murder.

As it turned out, a weapon would have been doubly useless.

“Good morning, Erich,” said Bigglesworth. He wore a grey suit and blue tie, coatless despite the chill air. He was not wearing a hat. The second button of his shirt was buttoned into the wrong hole, leaving a gap which revealed a bare inch or two of his throat. “I think we may have something to discuss.”

[Yes, Biggles has been having an equally awful time. If Algy was stuck in this time loop he would've gone looking for Erich on the first loop as a reasonable precaution and had the whole thing unravelled in a week, but that's not the story of the day.]

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