The Three Predictions

It was lucky the funeral hall was in a bit of a remote area as the roads were barren enough for the truck to bulldoze down it haphazardly. A large truck fleeing from a crime scene with a rifle and two people with wildly different attitudes regarding the situation inside of it. 

Blake quietly buckled his seat belt as the trucker next to him tried desperately to get away from the fleet of cop cars chasing him. Their sirens were getting closer and closer.

"Shit, I can't shake them!"

The trucker was cussing and steering the wheel like a mad man. All the while, Blake simply stared out his window. 

"You should just hurry up and do whatever you're planning to do.", his reflection sighed.

Blake shook his head out of frustration. Declining to speak first was supposed to be an effective negotiation tactic and yet he got nothing out of them. After thinking this, he cleared his throat.

"So why were you trying to steal this watch?"

"Shut up, I'm trying to drive!"

The trucker yanked the wheel to the left causing Blake to recoil into his chair. Despite this, Blake pressed further.

"Not until you tell me what I want to know."

"Huh? Seriously, shut up! If I mess this up, we could both end up dead!"

No matter how Blake approached the situation, he would get brushed off at every turn. It was starting to annoy him, and he didn't end up reacting in the safest way. 

Although the trucker was focused on the road, he was still aware enough to notice the sound of a window rolling down. When he finally turned to face Blake, he instinctively let out a squeal at the sight of the boy's arm dangling the pocket watch outside the window. 

"H-HEY!"

*BEEEEP*
The trucker's attention snapped back to the road just in time for him to swerve out of the way of an incoming car. Blake tightened his grip on the watch as his body violently jerked in tandem with the truck. They were entering a more populated area.

Blake's blood was pumping and hard as he kept mounting pressure on the trucker.

"Any more sudden movements like that and I might drop it." 

"What the hell do you want?"

"Just answer my questions. First, why do you want this and what even is it?"

The trucker didn't take his eyes off the road for a second as he thought about his answer.

"I don't know what that thing is, just that it's dangerous. And I want it because it needs to be disposed of."

Blake took a moment to think about what to ask next. His mind instantly thought back to the two men in suits he saw.

"Is anyone else after this watch?"

"Two organizations."

"And are you a part of one of them?"

"No, I'm... Well, you can say I'm a third party."

"Fine, just one more thing then."

He hesitated for a bit before asking his final question.

"Why was this in that guy's coffin?"

"Like I said, I don't know any of the specifics, but he was a scientist, right? He must have been involved in making that thing somehow."

Blake put his free hand to his mouth and looked away as he digested all that he'd just learned. It was a lot to take in, but he was quickly reminded of his limited time.

"You're almost out of time. Hurry up!", his reflection snarled.

"Shut up. I know."

He realized he'd said that out loud and looked back at the trucker to gauge his reaction, but the man was too occupied with the road to really care about anything else. Good thing he was as a car jumped out around the corner forcing the trucker to swerve in a different direction.

As the trucker tried to turn though, Blake lurched over and grabbed the steering wheel. He twisted it in all sorts of directions sending the truck into a wild frenzy and careening into the side of the road. The last thing Blake did was clutch the pocket watch as hard as he could as he braced for impact. 

The crash was brutal. It was a bloody mess. Blake could barely feel his limbs. The window in front of him was cracked beyond belief. The trucker next to him was completely unconscious. 

Looking around, Blake's eyes were drawn to the rifle sitting nearby. His arms were weak, but he reached for it anyway. There was no way he could risk becoming a last-minute hostage if this guy suddenly woke up. However, the best he could do was make it fall over. 

No other choice. Blake had to wait to be discovered. He couldn't even put enough force into his arms to unbuckle his seatbelt. So, with bated breath, he listened for something, anything and eventually, he made out the sound of a walkie talkie and voices speaking through it.

"Suspect's vehicle secured. Completely totaled."

"About time.", Blake croaked. 

He started coughing furiously as he finally allowed himself to relax and his mind wandered back to the conversation he had with his reflection this morning.

"One. The funeral will be interrupted by a bald trucker trying to steal a crystal-clear glass pocket watch from your dad's coffin."

Blake struggled to keep his eyes open until his rescue. 

"Two. Men in black suits on the upper floors will fight with the trucker. But don't be fooled. They're after the watch too."

For some reason as Blake's consciousness was about to fade, his life started flashing before his eyes. 

He saw himself sitting alone in a classroom as all the students around him talked to each other, his days walking home alone and watching sports clubs' members practicing together, and him coming home to his desolate house and empty shell of a mother. 

He was brought back to reality by the gleam of the glass pocket watch his right hand was still clutching onto. 

A trophy, he thought. A reminder of everything he had accomplished today. Comparing the rest of his life to this single afternoon, Blake couldn't help but let out a faint but uncontrollable fit of laughter. Not out of relief or even some sense of satisfaction, but a feeling of pure euphoria and adrenaline. 

Eventually, he simmered down and with the last of his strength slipped the watch into his breast pocket. And as soon as he did, he heard someone call out. 

"Ah! Suspect secured. There's another person here too!"

Unable to keep himself awake for any longer, Blake finally closed his eyes.

Several hours later, he awoke to see a ceiling, but one that was unfamiliar to him. It was tremendously painful, but Blake brought himself to a sitting position. He looked down at himself and saw his body clothed by a hospital gown. Something else caught his attention even more though. 

"You're awake...", his mother remarked.

Blake didn't respond to that. He was honestly surprised to even see her there. What she did next surprised Blake even more. She raised her hand slowly almost as if to smack him. It was only natural. After all, what kind of mother wouldn't scold their child for putting themselves in danger? 

But instead of a smack, she simply patted Blake on the head and said the following:

"You're a good boy. Protecting your mom like that... Thank you."

Silence.

"...You're... welcome."

For the first time in a long time, Blake expected something greater from his mother and for the first time in a long time, he was disappointed in her. 

They said nothing to each other from that point forward up until visiting hours were over. Before leaving though, Blake's mother did leave him with one thing. A folded suit. The same suit Blake wore today.

"For when you leave.", she said.

The door closed, leaving Blake alone in the room. He curled into himself and clutched the bed sheets covering his legs. Pain shot through his body, but not from the crash. Eventually though, he let go and turned his attention to the suit sitting next to him. 

He reached for it, pulled out the watch from inside, and stared at it as his reflection's third prediction finally came to mind.

"Three.

The world will come to an end."