Category : Books-Fiction

Sub Category : Suspense/Mystery

Chapter 3 

The man showed no sign of threat. The man showed no sign of willingness to hurt. Yet Hans was struggling to respond to the question. He took a small silver pocket watch out of his pocket and began to play with it, play with it intently as if it was going to come up with an answer for the old man. 

"Didn't I ask you a question?"

Hans had completely forgotten about the old man, who had now seated himself on the chair which faced the window. Studying him more intently Hans noticed a scar on the mans face that his observational skills had failed to see in the gloom. The scar ran from the corner of his left eye, and continued down his cheek a purple mountain range. How had he got the scar? The man did not seem like someone who would get into a fight or go to war, that was obvious from the books that lay scattered on the majority of the surfaces in the house. Well, if you could call it a house. Hans put his pocket watch back in his pocket.

"Who are you?"

The old man looked up, almost glaring at Hans. Immediately Hans knew he shouldn't have asked, maybe the man was a shut away and did not want people knowing who he was? Hans looked at the man, he had now taken a pocket watch and bagan to fiddle with it, flipping the lid over, turning the the hands, poking buttons at the side. It was no wander this man didn't know the time. How was he not stuck in his on time zone that was always repeating itself? The mans pocket watch was nothing like Hans' one. It was large, plated gold and had a fascinating pattern. There was also writing engraved on the front, which Hans could not depict from where he stood that moment in time.

"I am an old man..." the man finally replied, "An old man is who I am..."
Hans did not expect this answer, so he asked another question.
"Well, old man, what is your name?"
"My name, is in fact, Hans..."
Now the younger Hans wanted to know more. 

"What job did you have when you weren't old?"
The man put his pocket watch away. 
"Did you just call me old?" 
Did Hans just offend the older Hans? He was only asking him a question, and besides, surely it was the older Hans who had stated himself that he was old. Slightly panicked, Hans kept himself quiet.
"You have a habit of not answering, don't you Hans?" The old man said.
"Yes sir." Hans was worried that even the smallest mistake and this man could leave him knocked out on the floor, no matter how frail he was. 
"And you ask lot's of questions, don't you Hans?" Hans' only reply was a nod. 

The old man chuckled before hauling himself out of his chair. 
"You better make yourself comfortable here, if you are going to stay that is." The old man eyes him like an eagle eyes its prey. Hans sighted and nodded and looked around for somewhere so sit. The old man could see his intention and said:
"Just clear away a few books from that table, you are welcome to sit there." Hans did as he was told. 

Once he had cleared away the books and sat down as comfortable as you possibly could on a table, Hans began to ask question.
"So what did you do before... before..."
"Before I was old?" Asked the old man.
"Yes."
"Well, Hans, I have always really been old." This wasn't the answer he was expecting. "For example, how old are you, young Hans?" What was Hans supposed to say? 14 or 140? What if the man was like every other man he had met and ridiculed the idea he was 140? Or was he even going to be like some extreme people who had tried to burn him because they though he was participating in some form of witchcraft? 

"Fourteen."