Back in Time Through a Bottle Pt. 01

This story is a mix between romance and sci-fi, based on old fashioned magic. There is no sex, at least in this part. Constructive comments are very welcome. EVERYONE in the story is at least eighteen years old, some thousands of years old.

Thanks to Headitor for editing support - any remaining errors we missed - we don't need to be told.

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A quiet figure moved through the dark, a large lonely figure, with a slight limp and a stoop. Stacy Brands was a security guard, at fifty-four, not exactly the life he'd hoped for. Tonight he was guarding the last belongings of a once rich and powerful man. The man's life reduced to a burnt-out house, leaving just a few boxes in the separate garage. Stacy's company had been tasked with guarding the property since arson had been suspected. The kids of the man who passed had already divided up his belongings after the will reading. His house had been left to charity, but had burned a week ago, the day after the reading. All the man had left had been reduced to a few boxes. He'd died alone and lonely, something Stacy knew all too well.

A quick scan with a flashlight proved everything was still there. He donned his bright yellow raincoat and headed out into the cold and wet, to make his foot patrol around the property. The arson investigators seemed to be in no hurry to check the remains. That seemed odd, but then again, the man had not really been liked by anyone. He'd campaigned against the raises for police, fire and ems every time the city brought the idea up.

The cold rain was falling at a steady pace, the damp penetrating his bones. Rubbing his wet hands trying to ease the ache in them, he continued. The area checked, he headed back into the garage. Soaked even through the raincoat, his hands hurt so bad from the chill. His flashlight scanned the boxes again, startling a cat who had found refuge, and sending one of the boxes to the floor with a clatter. He sighed and headed to pick it up, hoping nothing had broken. Any broken items would be deducted from his already minuscule paycheck.

He picked up the box and its contents; nothing appeared damaged. One item seemed to be a lamp like the ones from the old Aladdin movies. He chuckled, at the thought of the genie in the magic lamp. He gave it the few customary rubs seen in cartoons and movies, and placed it back in the box, setting the whole thing back on its shelf.

Stacy managed to coax the cat out of hiding with a few pieces of his sandwich; it curled up on his lap. He welcomed the warmth of the fur on his aching hands as he fed it bites of his only meal of the day...

Bellinia sat on her comfy overstuffed bed of pillows sipping a glass of wine. How long had she been here? According to her recollection almost twelve thousand years, through a thousand worlds maybe. On her home world, a mere two hundred years. Having been tricked and trapped by collectors who sought out those of her kind, she was now a servant, having once been a princess. Trapped in this small vessel she'd been a pawn ever since her capture, sold to the highest bidder, then randomly handed around once her master died. Many of those who had summoned her had promised to use their last wish to free her from this prison; after the first couple of thousand years she'd given up hope.

Some masters were not so bad; they had only wanted a few simple things. Others were sadistic. She'd witnessed overthrown governments, watched genocide, seen the rise and fall of many nations, countries, planets even an entire solar system.

She cursed her existence for the thousandth time. She'd never be free. She had not felt remorse in at least three thousand years. If she refused any wish that was in her power, she would be banished to a tortured eternity in limbo. Luckily each master was given only three wishes, and after they were granted, she could not be summoned again. Many became angry when their first wish was denied: her captor had built in a failsafe against infinite wishes. Angry or not, they could not do her any harm, she was far from those who could. Bellinia didn't not even know if they still existed after so long.

What she wanted more than anything, was to be free and to return home. There she could live out her life in happiness. She would have aged two hundred years by now on her home world but would still have just over a thousand years of real life left.

Being trapped in the vessel stopped her aging process; she only aged for the time she was out. She could at least be comfortable in here; she had infinite space and had created quite the living space, full of all the comforts of home. She could conjure up anything she desired.

Her last master had been a rude and selfish man, he'd not wanted anyone harmed, just to manipulate stocks and of course be a rich owner of his own company. This world's masters seemed to be more interested in personal wealth than conquest of nations; at least there was that.

Bellinia felt a small amount of warmth on the outside of the vessel, it seemed a new master had arrived. Leisurely she stretched; she'd not hurry answering the summons but answer she must.

With a heavy sigh she stood and spun in front of her mirror, her long black hair now pulled up, her lips ruby red and wearing a short but flowing dress. Studying the reflection, she thought herself attractive. Every male master she'd had, had lusted after her and many female masters as well. Luckily the same magic that held her, kept her from being a sex slave. Another heavy sigh, then she snapped her fingers and appeared.

She was about to speak but no one was holding the vessel, it lay in a box. Bellinia studied a lone figure huddled in a chair, holding a black and white cat. The figure appeared to be feeding it something. Bellinia could hear the telltale purr of the animal and had learned from the knowledge she had amassed from this and other worlds that this meant happiness to the animal.

She was not bound to announce herself, so she studied the man. This was the first time she had been presented with this opportunity, everyone else had stood greedily after her summons. The man picked the cat up and nuzzled it then laid it back in his lap and rubbed his hands. He appeared to be in pain. She guessed his age to be maybe about sixty earth years.

"What's your name princess," he asked the cat, getting a mew in response. "You could at least tell me your name," he laughed, but his laugh seemed one of pain, "after all I gave you today's meal." The cat, seeming to sense his mood, stood and rubbed against his chest. "No worries little one, you need it more than I do."

This man was different from any others she'd come across. She closed her eyes and let her mind drift to him: she could read the surface thoughts of most. He had indeed given his only food to the cat, she felt the pain in his hands, how they ached from the cold. The pain in his knees, how they ached from walking to the job and around in the cold. She felt the loneliness in his heart.

Bound or not, she felt the need, no she felt the desire to let him know she was there. Bellinia cleared her throat, startling both the man and the cat. The cat went running off into the dark, and the man jerked to his feet. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," she said.

"You can't be here," the man said, regaining his composure.

"But you summoned me," Bellinia said.

"I what? No matter, you can't be here, if you are found here, I could lose my job. I really can't afford to lose it. Are you a relative of Mr. Waters?" he asked.

Bellinia had never come across someone who did not know they had summoned a Genie before. She stepped forward into more of the light. "You summoned me; you rubbed my lamp."

The man laughed, 'oh my I lost my mind. Well at least my mind summoned a lovely lady when it caved in on itself', he thought, sitting back down.

Bellinia cocked her head, he really did not believe her. "I am real," she said.

"Of course you are. I'm just dreaming."

She walked over and pinched his cheek; it was apparently customary here to pinch someone who thought they were dreaming.

"Ouch," he said.

"You are awake, and I am as real as they come," she said.

He now seemed to, at least partly, believe she was real. "Please... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you," he said. "Please just go away. Don't hurt me. I don't want any trouble. Please just go," he pleaded. She could see his eyes start to water.

Her hand gently touched his; he recoiled at her touch. "Why would I hurt you," she asked. "Why wouldn't you as everyone else does?"

"Please, just go away," he pleaded.

Studying him, she opened her mind to him again. He was in turmoil, believing, but also not accepting, that she was real. He was pretty sure he was losing his mind but was also almost afraid he wasn't.

"I promise I am bound by the magic in my vessel and cannot harm you." Bellinia snapped her fingers and the lamp appeared and hovered in the air in front of them. She spun and disappeared inside it, then reappeared and was standing in front of him again.

The man gasped, and reached an achy, shaking hand towards her. She held hers out and took his in hers; she felt the cold in his hand and he, the warmth in hers.

"Oh my God you are real," he said.

"That I am," she smiled. "Now to business: you have three wishes, BUT!! You cannot wish for more wishes."

He laughed a bit, "Just like the movies."

She nodded, "Those books and movies do contain some of the truth. I've been on your world for over a thousand years."

He just nodded.

"So what is your first wish."

He looked down at the floor, "you can't give me what I want."

"I have granted men power to rule worlds. I can give you whatever you ask."

He shook his head, "no you can't."

She sighed; her heart actually heavy. What could someone want, that when faced with almost infinite magic, they thought she could not give. She could ease his pain, even remove it. By the looks of him he needed money, she could provide that too.

He looked up, "what would you wish for if you could wish for what youwanted", stressing you so she knew he meant her.

"To be free of the lamp," she said.

"Oh? Can you be," he asked.

"Yes I can be freed," Bellinia replied.

"Do you lose your magic?"

She laughed, "no I keep it, but it means I can return to my home, if it even exists anymore..."

"Where is that?" the man asked.

"It's in another time. "I've been in the lamp for over twelve thousands of your years," Bellinia said.

He nodded seeming to accept now the truth of what was in front of him. "Well my name is Stacy," he finally said. "Sorry I was caught so off guard I did not introduce myself."

"Bellinia," she said with a smile and bow.

"Forgive me," he said, "but your beauty is remarkable." Then he blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to come across like that."

She could feel his thoughts, he really didn't. "It's fine. I believe you; you have a kind heart."

"So, Ms. Bellinia," he said, making sure he pronounced it correctly. She smiled; she'd never had such a master. She nodded. "Your wish is to be free?"

She nodded. "And how do you become free?"

"My master would have to use one of his wishes to free me."

"And none have?"

"Sadly no," she said.

"I am your master, as you said," he laughed. "Me a master," and he laughed again.

"You are indeed my master."

"Then I have but one wish."

She eyed him closely. "I've already said you can't ask for more wishes;" she'd been down this road many times.

"I understand. You told me this."

"So you mean only one wish for now," she said.

"No, just one, period. I wish you free of your lamp."

She gasped. "You should save this wish for your last wish. Once I'm free I can leave and will no longer be bound to you.

"I understand, and I wish you free. Grant it; that is my wish."

Bellinia snapped her fingers and a large comfy chair appeared behind her, catching her as she fell back in disbelief. "Stacy, really, please ask me for something, anything else, first," she almost pleaded.

"Bellinia you are free whenever you want. I don't need anything," he said.

"The pain in your hands and knees: I could make it go away." Her eyes filled with tears.

"No need I probably won't live long enough to enjoy it anyways."

"Money, I can give you money."

"Again no need, I probably won't be here long enough to need it."

Her eyes full of tears, she nodded. "I grant your wish if you but ask again."

He looked directly into her eyes: "I wish you, Miss Bellinia, to be free and happy and bound to no other."

She stood; her eyes filled with tears. For some reason she reached for him and hugged him; only then did she feel his real pain. It was in his heart, not his body.

"Take care of yourself Bellinia, and I hope you find the happiness you have been denied for so long," he said, breaking the hug.

She waved her hand, the lamp appeared, and she turned it to dust. The dust reformed into the lamp, but a snap of her fingers and it vanished. "I put it back in the box, but it holds no magic now. You were worried it would be found missing and you'd lose your job."

He smiled, "thank you Bellinia."

She hugged him again, and with a whirl disappeared...

He sat back down heavily, wondering dazedly if all that had happened was real. He looked at his watch; his shift was over, and the relief guard came driving up.

"Hey Stace", Mike said coming in. "Man it's coming down out there. If you want, you can stay here, and I will drive you home when I get off."

"No I'd better go. If I get caught here, I'll lose my job," Stacy said as he headed out into the rain.

Bellinia had indeed vanished from view, but she stayed just out of sight and watched as he walked out into the cold rain, headed home. She followed, unobserved by anyone, the rain not touching her. He walked almost three miles to a rundown apartment building. On the way, he stopped near a couple, with a small child partly covered by a worn tarp. He pulled his tattered wallet out, sighed at only finding a five-dollar bill, then handed it to the man who thanked him profusely; the woman cried.

Bellinia, still unseen, dropped ten, one hundred dollar bills unnoticed into a cup sitting beside the woman. He could have had the world she thought to herself, but he chose... Me...

She turned herself into a house fly and landed on the back of his coat as he entered the front door of the building. Making his way up the three flights of stairs took a while: he'd stop often to rub his knees.

She felt the pain radiating from him; she thought of easing it but didn't, worried he would know it was her. Inside she flew up to the ceiling and watched as he went around stripping out of his wet clothes hanging them to dry.

She could tell when he'd been younger, he'd been an attractive and well-built man. Life had taken its toll on his body, mind, but most of all on his heart.

He washed himself in the sink with cold water, cursing slightly that there was no hot. Opening the small fridge and taking out a cup of cold water, he drank deeply, refilled it and put it back.

The bedroom was as sparse as the rest of the apartment. No bed just a few blankets on the floor and what appeared to be large towels. In just his ratty shorts, he lowered his aching body to the floor and wrapped himself up. She watched as he drifted into a labored sleep.

Dropping to the floor, she turned into what appeared to be a large caterpillar and began wrapping him in some sort of cocoon. Once finished, she shifted to the shape of a large, beautiful, butterfly. Magenta wings with emerald markings covered them. She was invading his mind in what, in her world, would be a most perverse action, but she had to know why he'd freed her.

Her antennae slid into the cocoon and found his ears, before weaving their way inside his head. Had he been awake it would have hurt, but he would feel no pain because she had pushed his slumber deep. Her search of his memory started running from the beginning.

Funny, there were no memories apparent before a certain point. She could force herself in deeper, but should she? She did. Beatings, that's what she found, a mother screaming, and beatings. No wonder, his mind had blocked it out as a protective mechanism. She left those memories, her heart aching, making sure to seal them back up so he could not access them

She sped forward. A stepfather came into the picture. He seemed OK, he did not yell at him or hit him. His mother seemed to stop. Sliding further through his mind... Father griping to his mother about how much he ate, yet he could hear the griping. She found a memory of him looking in the mirror. He was not overweight. He was lean muscle and a really nice-looking guy. Father griping about him needing new school clothes, again he could hear though it wasn't directed to him, but it still hurt his heart.

Moving along she suddenly felt tremendous pain, excruciating pain. She slowly backed up to before it started. The boy, laying on a couch, almost drifting off, home alone. He rose and got on a dirt bike, one of the few things his father gave him and did not gripe about. He felt free riding, she could feel the relief and freedom running through him. His first happy memory she'd come across. Then it happened, he looked behind him, hearing a loud noise, nothing. Looking forward again, even Bellinia jumped as he saw the truck, an eighteen-wheeler. Jerking the bike, he missed the truck, but the wind pulled the bike back towards it and clipped its tires.

He was sailing through the air, then hit the ground. The pain hit so bad. She could see bone sticking out of an arm and leg as he lay in the road. A woman screamed. She could see a woman and a young man running toward him through a yard. A man with a red beard followed. They dragged him nearly to the edge of the road.

Oh my god the man screamed. Where is his mother, where is she? The boy managed to tell them where she was; the man rushed off into the house. His mother arrived in tears as he went in and out of consciousness. Panic had set into his mind. "I'm sorry", he cried over and over.

"Sorry for what", his mother asked.

"My bike, I'm sorry I didn't mean to damage it. I'm gonna be in so much trouble."

Despite all the pain, he was worried about getting in trouble because he damaged the bike. She moved forward, noticing a younger brother. One that was the offspring of the current marriage of his mother. This child did no wrong through the years, only Stacy.

Moving forward, past all the surgeries, he was now ready for high school. He was a pretty good football player, the coaches really seemed to like him. She smiled; he was happy on the field. He'd grown into a handsome and muscular young man.

Moving forward, a very attractive blonde girl appeared. They were dating. He loved her and seemed to have finally found happiness, but it was short lived. He worked long hard hours in the heat, cold and rain. She cheated. Married at eighteen, divorced at twenty-one. Hurting heart again.

He joined the Army feeling there was nothing was left to lose. She felt his desperation, the real reason he joined was he wanted to die. She shuddered at the thought. He excelled at being a soldier, moving quickly ahead of others.

Again another blonde with a small child. Not his, but he loved them both. He ended up getting injured and left the Army, taking a job. He again excelled and was promoted. The wife had quit caring about him, only that he worked ten to twelve hours a day to bring home a check. She blew it all on useless stuff.

The daughter made up lies, saying he beat her. The mother dismissing them to her family, but the damage was done.

Moving back to their hometown at the insistence of the wife, he took a lower paying job, barely making ends meet. Her blowing everything she could. Never cooking, never cleaning, leaving him to do it.