In the Blink of a Moment
Chapter 1
“Of course, Master” said Hazel Nordmeyer, yet again baring dimples in another of her trademark bright smiles. And as the words leave her lips, I find myself transfixed, staring through her deep blue eyes. This is insane, I think to myself, why does a girl named Hazel have such cool blue eyes? And more importantly, why is she calling me master? I mean, obviously it’s because I told her to just seconds ago, but still—I can’t believe it worked.
How did I get here?
Let’s see, this morning was one just like any other. I stirred awake to the sound of Fredrick’s alarm, debating for the umpteenth time whether the accursed clock belonged two stories below, on the ground, in many tiny pieces. I have no beef with Fred, love the guy, but damn do I hate waking up bright and early with him. The door clicked shut behind him as he left for the morning. I tossed and turned to no avail, unable to reclaim any extra sleep for the morning. My own alarm rang out, and I knew the time had come to actually face the day.
Throw off the covers. Fling myself out of bed. Shamble on over to the showers. Ruin the minty freshness I just brushed onto my teeth with a sugary non-descript toaster pastry. Jot down my best guess for the calculus homework due in twelve minutes. Throw on a shirt and sweats, as well as a hat—today is not a hair day. Stuff the paper and a dog-eared book which I was supposed to read into my backpack. Lock the door behind me before vaulting down the stairs, practically sliding down the railings in a rush to the exit. Give a ‘sup’ to Jimmy as we cross paths. Make it to calc only two minutes after the lecture starts—that’s on Mrs. Garcia for having class start at the ungodly hour of 9:25 AM though.
Sit through class. Walk to the next one. Rinse. Repeat. Ya know, boring school stuff. Like I said, the morning was just like any other. That’s not why you’re here though, is it? No. You’re here to hear about the university’s darling student body treasurer Hazel calling yours truly ‘Master’. Hold tight—I’m getting there.
Mondays are like Wednesdays and Fridays but worse. Not only do I have calc then lit, but on Mondays they’re followed up by this dumbass ‘fundamentals of fitness’ course. Since I was planning on leaving here someday with a diploma in hand, that meant I too was on the hook to fill two credits listening to John Macavera prattle on about how he used to squat back in his army days or which dried fruits have the longest canned shelf life. Luckily today would be a walk in the park, literally, as we were spared a lecture and instead given free reign to enjoy the nice spring weather and get some hands on experience with exercising.
So that’s how I found myself wandering through the backend at noon, enjoying some solace in the expanse of woods behind Noctis University, uncovering new trails amidst the budding trees. This time, I learned that if you hang a right at the great big willow but then dive left to duck under a few low branches, after a short climb you end up on the back side of the chain link fence surrounding the lone tennis court. And while certainly some couple would be playing a game here if it were a Saturday, right now the court was vacant.
Yet, despite the lack of people serving balls back and forth, I caught a glimpse of something crashing down on the inside of the fence. No, it wasn’t the world’s stealthiest tennis-ers lobbing a ball over the net, this thing was way too black and tiny to be a tennis ball. It whistled through the air as it fell, but what had entirely captivated me was the resounding clang it made when it touched down with the tarmac. There was a slight bounce as it clattered, harmonically ringing until it eventually settled down.
That was the first time time stood still for me today.
The second was after I had found myself on the inside of the court, picking up the unidentified falling object. Wondering where it came from, or what it even was. No birds or planes in the area that could have dropped it, unless they happened to still be obscured by the clouds. I could see that it was a bit bigger than a quarter and just as flat, boasting a matte jet black sheen and ridged edges. It held the shape of a heptagon, with another seven-sided hole inset in the middle. It looked like a washer straight out of an alien spaceship, maybe that’s even what it was?
Once my fingertips made contact with the rough disc, my senses were under assault. Flashing before my eyes were all sorts of scenes, and each one felt like I was right there in the action.
One moment, I held a scepter in an ancient Egyptian desert, flipping this object into the air. Commanding the women before me to present themselves to their pharoah, I caught the… Coin. It wanted to be called a coin, I could feel it. I caught the coin and found these women shedding their robes and jewelry before me.
The next, I felt the sting of my hand colliding with the face of some powder-faced gentleman. “You believe it is wrong to keep slaves, and will release yours immediately” I barked before giving the man before me another whack with the back of my hand. Despite the pudge of his skin rippling from both blows, there was no reaction from him, he merely stared straight ahead.
By the time I caught the coin a second time, I was being held tight by… what the hell? Marilyn Monroe? And was she already not wearing panties?
I’ll admit I kinda lost focus at that point, riding the high of being ridden by the cultural icon. There were definitely more scenes that played out, but throughout them all, I felt the coin speaking into my soul. Not that it was polite enough to use actual words, but regardless I was able to understand it quite well.
This is now my power. Because I found myself in the right place at the right time, the power to rule over all was mine. Whether I was benevolent or tyrannical was of no concern, the only thing that mattered was the coin. By the time the visions had stopped, my head kept spinning: What was this coin, exactly? Who, or what, made it? Was it really capable of freezing time? Why me? Holy fuck that was actually Marilyn Monroe I was feeling up.
My rumbling stomach convinced me to continue my walk to the dining hall, yet I had so much more on my mind than the way the cool breeze made the branches dance.. As I fidgeted with the coin, I realized that there was nothing I could do to figure out how it came to be. Instead I focused on what I was going to do with it.
From what I gathered from the visions, it seems the coin’s owner has considerable sway over those around them while it spins in the air. To what extent, that was for me to find out. That is, of course, assuming I didn’t just pass out from heat stroke hallucinating about this strange thing I found on the ground.
“Heya Alex!” was what brought me out of that train of thought, as I was waved over by good ol’ Hazel. This was, of course, after my body swiped in and grabbed two slices of pizza and an apple on autopilot. I was about to head to some table in the corner to continue contemplating this coin, but hey, Hazel is good company and she had an extra seat open.
“Yo,” I dropped down my tray and bag, “you mind if I join ya?”
As Hazel was forming her reply, I fished the coin out of my pocket. I wasn’t entirely considering the ramifications of resting it on my thumb and flicking it upwards. But as the dark disc rose, the din of the cafeteria gave way to an eerie silence. And so, I stared in disbelief as Hazel held her lips in an O, keeping still for an uncomfortable amount of time.
The coin continued to spin far, far longer than it had any right to. Instead of falling victim to gravity, it floated, rotating slowly midair like a collectible in a videogame. It cast off an intense indigo light. Well, most of it anyway, the light was forming a U around the disc. I didn’t remember seeing the coin light up like this in any of the visions I had prior, but frankly they weren’t on my mind at the moment.
On my mind right now was Hazel looking like she was in the midst of giving fetallo to a ghost. Hazel, 5′ 8″, with amber braids reaching her shoulderblades. Hazel, the adorable tender-hearted Austrian, somewhat flat bottomed but with a decent bust. Hazel, now locked into place and completely at my mercy. I waved a hand across her face, no response. Not that I needed much more verification that the world was on pause—after all the crowded cafeteria now sounded more like the library after closing hours.
I reached out and grabbed Hazel’s silver-nailed hand. It was as soft as I would have expected it to be, and also warm to the touch. Pulling up her knit jacket let me verify she still had a pulse, despite not making a peep or moving a muscle on her face the entire time. Okay, clearly the coin is clearly some sort of magic, no sense in trying to figure out how time is stopped yet her heart isn’t.
Speaking of the coin, it was still there, still spinning, still glowing, if anything a bit faster now. Kinda looks like half of it was dipped in purple glowstick fluid, but brighter than the lights in the building. I plunge a finger down Hazel’s parted lips, feeling out the moist cavern of her mouth. Her smooth teeth, squishy tongue, and the inbetween of her gums. Still no reaction. Wow.
Of course, this would be a waste if I didn’t test out the other feature of this coin. I really should have came up with a better test of its power at some point during the walk back—feeling up the inside of this cutie’s mouth had my mind much more focused on imagining what it would feel like to be using my dick instead of my finger than cooking up a solid test command on the fly.
“Mmm…” And so, I settled on “I am Master”
Idiot. Freeing my hand to facepalm myself, idiot. What does that even mean? Master of what? And if it actually worked like my blood-starved horny brain wants it to work, making her my slave in the middle of a crowded cafeteria? Idiot. I mean, sure, maybe I’d get a few high fives from my friends over it, but that’s not worth ruining her reputation to a decent chunk of campu- wait a second, did the coin stop glowing?
Almost on queue, as if the coin itself was also chiming in that my idea was dumb, I heard that resounding clang. Fortunately, my greedy finger had escaped Hazel’s friendly maw, and I was able to lean back into my chair before the hubbub returned to the food court around us. The coin now rested on the ground, at my feet, nary a shred of light sparking off from it.
So I bent down to pick it up. Feeling the cold metal in my hand once again, I moved to return it to my pocket. And that, that’s when Hazel smiled at me with her genuinely warm “Of course, Master” That’s when I locked eyes with those dimples, reeling at the implications of what just happened. “Glad to have you at my table, I was worried I was gonna have to eat alone today” Then she chuckled.
That was a good ten, fifteen seconds ago. Since then her chuckle and smile have melted away into a look of concern.
“Hello? Earth to Master? Everything good?” Fuck, there she goes waving the hand I was holding moments ago in front of my own face. I really need to stop getting lost in these trains of thought.
“Uh, yeah, I’m fine” I blinked. Hazel didn’t seem entirely satisfied with that answer though.
“I don’t know, you don’t sound fine. What’s up?” I’d like to know what’s up too. I mean, nobody, not even Hazel, seemed to react to that loud crash the coin made when it landed. And also, the thing actually works??
“I.. uh… Master? You called me Master?” Okay, a really dumb question to follow up a really dumb command, but you gotta understand, I’m still reeling in shock. This is a lot to take in for one afternoon.
She rolls her eyes. “Uh, yeah you silly goose. What am I supposed to call you, Count Dorkula?” With her jest, she giggles.
“Sir Dorkula, actually.”
“Hmm… doesn’t have the same ring to it”
“What about Rad McCooldude?”
“Yeah, but you aren’t cool.”
“Ouch, fine, just stick with my name then.”
“Probably for the best Master. Anyway, what’s up with you?”
Phew, bullet dodged. I decide not to push my luck by reminding her that my parents decided to name me Alex. Instead, I just soak in the amusement of my friend blissfully unaware of the ramifications of how she’s currently addressing me. “Right, sorry, busy day. Busy week. Exams. Projects. You know”
“Ah, yeah, no, I gotchu. It’s that time of the semester. Doesn’t help that the allocation report needs done before Thursday’s meeting“
“And you—” I start, but we finish in unison “haven’t started it yet.”
She continues “I know, I know, I need to get better with the whole procrastination thing”
“Mood”
Satisfied with my explanation, we carry into a mostly normal conversation, barring the occasional Hazel calling me Master occurrence (man that is never going to get old). Our banter carries on like this as we chow down on our lunches until it’s time for us to head our separate ways. She, after all, has a chemistry class to get to. I now find myself with a decent gap of time until my evening history meetup, although it’s going to be really hard for me to focus on the past—I have to get ready to shape my future.