When I woke up, I found myself at home, the way I had left it. Only the place was now covered with pools of blood. Even the walls were smeared in some places, but no one was around. No bodies. I then realized why the magician's family was found without any blood in their house. The family was murdered in my time period, not theirs. And when they died, their bodies returned to their time period.

I didn't tell the police. What explanation would they accept? The crime was over a hundred years old, even if it happened a few days ago. I ended up washing the entire place, throwing away several of my engravings, the ones with blood on it. And all throughout the cleaning, I wondered to myself what would have happened had I attacked that young man. Maybe I could have stopped him. Maybe I would have been killed as well. I really don't know.

But the article in front of me said they caught the killer, an assassin connected to a secret society known for their practices of black magic. The police were glad they were able to catch him so quickly. It was thanks to a design etched on the floorboards of the house. The design was said to match a design on the ring of one of the suspects. Further investigation of the suspect uncovered bloody boots in his hotel room. There was no question about it, one policeman said. He was the murderer and would be put to justice.

Satisfied, I twisted the lever and the microfilm rewound onto its reel. I pulled the reel off the spindle, shut off the machine, and carefully placed the reel in the box labeled, "San Jose Weekly News, 1880-1885."