From the journal of the "Other" Tim Hunter:

- It's getting to be almost mundane now. The Tims in Worlds #20 and #21 weren't even magic. They refused it, the silly buggers. #22 was a rank beginner. #23 managed some pretty fireworks and a decent left hook, but nothing more than that.

- Have had a wonderful time with Mum and Dad these last couple of trips. So sorry they didn't last longer.

- I think I'll take my time with #24. Will see if Molly is suitable in this world.

And in the void, a trigger is activated in the Other's mind, and away he goes.

* * * * *

- World #24 isn't like any of the other worlds. For one thing, it appears to be enclosed in a glass fishbowl about the size of a lorry. Plus it's got these bright, glaring lights shining in at me. Rather disorienting, if you ask me. Let me find a way out.

- But there is no way out. The door to the fishbowl is locked, the glass doesn't feel like breaking, something is preventing me.

- And then I hear a voice from the outside, thin and reedy:

"Come now, sonny. You didn't expect that you'd be able to destroy every world you encountered without some modicum of resistance, did you?"

- I blink through the light until I can make something out. Man, I need to get sunglasses.

"Bloody arrogant whelp, if you ask me. Like I was in your days."

- This is serious. There doesn't seem to be a way out. Try as I might, I can't seem to generate any magic whatsoever.

"Go on, you silly bastard. There isn't a way out."

"Who the bloody hell are you?"

"Don't you know, Tim Hunter? I'm surprised."

- He shuts the lights out and I can see him better. Good Lord, the wanker has to be pushing eighty, he does. White beard down to his pot belly, one arm missing, sad git eyes, and his dorky bifocal eyeglasses... Waitaminute. His glasses...

"I'm you, Timothy Hunter."

"Bloody hell. You... You're ME but old."

- I lash out at my glass prison with everything I have: My own power and the strength of the 23 other Tim Hunters I've slain, each one capable of stopping the world stone cold on its axis.

- Nothing bloody happens. Tim bloody-old-age-home Hunter is smirking at me through the other side of the glass. I quickly become exhausted.

"Now, are you quite convinced that nothing you do will help you escape your prison? Would you like to talk for a change?"

"Yeah."

"Yes, what?"

- The bastard's sipping wine while I stew inside this damned fishbowl. When I get out I'm going to skewer him but good.

"Yes, sir."

- And we talk.

- Grandpa Tim Hunter is sitting luxuriously in a plush chair in his disgusting deluxe bathrobe while I'm stuck sitting on the sodding dirt floor.

- There's a door to the fishbowl, but it's locked good. There's also a magic circle I'm not familiar with that's surrounding me. I can't seem to do anything about being a prisoner, so I humor the old fart.

"I caught on to what you were up to when I was fourteen. It was Constantine put me on the trail. It was the last thing he ever did."

"Constantine?"

"That's right. You probably haven't encountered him yet. Brilliant chap if a bit of a bastard. Hated to do what I had to do to him."

"What- what did you do?"

- He stares through me.

"Please, Mr. Hunter. You are far from innocent.

"To continue, once I knew of your quest, I realized that you would eventually visit my little domain, so I set about taking a few measures to prepare for your arrival. I cast a little spell that sped up the passage of time here, so that I would have ample time to prepare."

"Which explains why you're such a bloody fossil."

- He's smiling. I hardly know him but I hate when he does that.

"Yes. I suppose it does. I also arranged it so that I would encounter you near the beginning of your journey, before you were equipped to properly deal with me. Made a fortune or two by the time I was 20, purchased this old place from the Burgess estate in 2007. It's called Wych Cross. As it happens, it's quite well-equipped for the incarceration of certain magical snot-nosed nuisances as yourself."

- I picture his head being punted like a football across the pitch. It's a pity each world has to end whenever I kill one of them. I'd love to see him suffer.

"So what's it going to be for me, then, eh? Do unto others before they do unto you? A silver bullet through the heart? Or are you just going to leave me here to rot? What?"

"What am I going to do to you, child? Simple. I'm going to let you out."

- And he does. He unlocks the bloody door, lets me out, and turns to walk up the stairs out of this pit.

"Don't think about attacking me. I'm amply defended for the likes of you."

- I don't move. I wait to see what he'll do.

"Step lively, child. Jimmy will have dinner ready soon enough."

- So I decide to follow him. I don't know what else to do.

- The walls are just covered with stuff. Trinkets, jewels, weapons, portraits, trophies. And underneath the decade's worth of dust, I can feel the magic underneath. I can feel it everywhere. We're swimming in it.

- I'm in over my head this time, I think.

"I don't understand this one bit, gramps... What are you-"

"Oh, hush up, child. And let me finish. By the time I was 35, I had everything I ever wanted out of life. Power, money, love, prestige, respect.... My merest whim moved armies. As far as I was concerned, the whole world existed to suit my needs. Molly and I... Well, we had the choice of dozens of fabulous mansions across this world and others. My life was exactly as I dreamed it could be."

"And then what?"

"Then Molly left us."

- We stop by this weirdo statue of Molly inside his main hall... I mean, I think it's his main hall. How big IS this place?

- The statue is of her as she's just in act of turning, something like surprise in her eyes. Not stone or anything, but realistic like a photo is, but dead and plastic.

"I was driving, you see. We had chauffeurs back then, but there was nothing I liked more than to climb into one of my cars and blaze on down the German Autobahn at Lord knows how many kilos per, Molly by my side. Then there was a skid, then a flip, and then nothing at all. Molly died instantly, and I was left comatose. By the time I awoke, it was too late to do anything but mourn.

"For most of the next two decades, I tried to revive her. I wasted many fortunes in so doing. Nothing worked.

"To my shame, I... I asked Leah to... to be Molly, as much as she could."

"Who's Leah?"

"Oh that's right. You don't know her yet, either. She was... is... a succubus. They're talented shape changers and actresses, every one. When I acquired her, I had her do her absolute best Molly. Every detail, every hair, every bit of personality and voice and inflection in place. If you didn't know it was a fake it would've been absolutely perfect. But I did know it was fake, and it didn't work."

"What did you do to Leah?"

- And the old bugger looks at the statue with tears in his eyes. I realize then that it wasn't really a statue we were looking at after all.

"Bloody brilliant! You froze her."

"Having such a close imitation by my side only reminded me of what I had lost. I couldn't face it any longer so... I made her stop, poor thing. I considered killing myself then, but I remembered your impending arrival. For a while, I was very looking forward to your arrival, to tearing you into shreds, but now..."

"Now?"

"Now I want to make you an offer."

"What... kind of offer?"

"Come on, this sort of thing is best done over dinner."

- The manservant Jimmy is his age. He says they were boyhood friends, but I certainly don't remember him. The maid is a redhead and quite the looker. Can't be more than 20.

- Says her name is Marya.

- The food is strange but excellent, but the old man just drones on and on about it....

"...so while it's quite a delicacy in these parts over there the taste is quite mundane, as they eat it all the time."

"Come on, pops. I mean, thanks for the dinner and all, but I didn't come for a bloody travelogue. What do you want with me?"

"Timothy Hunter, would you like to have this world?"

"What?"

"We could merge ourselves. Your consciousness, my knowledge. Instead of destroying me, you would inherit all my wisdom, experience and this world, which you could quite easily shape to whatever form you wanted. It pretty much begs to be taken over. It's easier than geometry. With your power and my knowledge, we could quite easily rewind time back seventy years, that's 2005, and court Molly all over again, take over the world again, and relive all the best times once more. We'd easily sidestep that disaster, and have nothing but the good times. And believe me, the good times were among the sweetest moments any man has ever tasted."

"I'd be in charge?"

"Completely."

"And what would you get?"

"Another chance to live through you. Just think about it. You wouldn't have to spend the next I don't know how many years of your life being a homicidal maniac."

- And I do think about it. For a while. A mansion bigger than all of Birmingham, money, wealth, power, respect, a guaranteed lifetime of success, it seems. A world that is already nicely house-trained. What doesn't he have that he wants, even now?

- Hmmm...

"Well, gramps. The way I see it is this. It's like you said about Leah trying to be Molly. If I didn't know it was fake it would be perfect. The trouble is that I do know this world is fake. Now that I know this, I know it wouldn't be enough, somehow. Somewhere out there is a real world. At least I think there is. And I don't think I could be satisfied anymore with anything less."

- He thinks about that for a while. It makes me nervous.

"You.. you're not going to kill me now, are you, gramps?"

"Oh, heavens no. Kill the world if you want, kill a thousand worlds. I no longer care about anything, ever since my Molly died. It's all the same to me, you bastard. I suppose you made the decision I would have made in your shoes. Here."

- He goes to a fireplace and takes an ornamental dagger off of the mantle. He hands it to me.

"Here, my boy. Would you like to do the honors, or should I?"

"It- It's not really the same when you're asking me to do you in."

"Fair enough. I suppose it isn't. Goodbye Timothy Hunter. Farewell."

"Goodbye... Sir."

- And the old man closes his eyes and just wills himself out of existence. With that, everything starts to fade. Jimmy the Butler and Marya the maid clearing dishes, the statue of Molly/Leah, the mansion, the world. The power rushes into me once more, but this time, it doesn't feel like such a rush. It feels... kind of empty to tell the truth. Time for the next world, I guess.

- One day I might regret that I made that decision. His world seemed custom made for conquest and trouble free rule, and who knows what the real world will be like? I might be setting myself up for a real let down as far as I know.

- Ah well. You make your decisions and you don't look back. One thing I know, I'm not going to end up like him. Helpless, hopeless, sad and alone.

- Not me.