[ WP ] You are the Historian , a shapeshifting , immortal being that gives historical figures a push in the right direction .

John Wilkes Booth ’ s hand shakes as he raises his gun. The whites of his eyes stand out in the darkness of the play box, and you can hear his heart beat, galloping away. He hesitates. It ’ s time for you to step in. 
 
 “ Go ahead, ” you say. “ Shoot him. ” 
 
 Booth wavers. He cocks the gun. The audience laughs at something on stage, and he jolts. 
 
 “ Shoot him, John. ” Your voice is soft, soothing—he can ’ t see you, can ’ t hear you, can only feel your will tugging at his, but you can ’ t help yourself. He looks so much like a skittish horse, and you ’ ve always had a soft spot for animals. Their will is so easy to bend. 
 
 He shoots. The gunshot is deafening. You feel Time calling, and you shut your eyes. 
 
 When you open them, you ’ re standing next to Thomas T. Handy. He stares at the letter in front of him, reads the words again and again—the words ordering the dropping of the first atomic bomb. The pen in his hand is poised as if he were about to sign, but the ink has long dried. 
 
 “ Sign the order, ” you say, and he leans forward before blinking and leaning back. “ Go on, ” you encourage, and he dips the pen in ink once more before scrawling his signature across the page. 
 
 Once, when you had been human, you ’ d recoiled at the thought of condoning such acts—felt guilt over lost lives. Fate had consoled you, then, explained why it was necessary to keep the essence of reality uniform—how the universe pushed and pulled and twisted and why you were one of those who ensured those perturbations never took. Now you felt nothing. Humans live, suffer and die. That was how it was, is, and would be. You make sure of that. 
 
 Time calls again. You shut your eyes. 
 
 // This is such a cool prompt and I have so many different ideas floating around in my head and I'm actually kinda dissatisfied with what I've written but do n't really have time to do anything about it. I can also see myself writing pages upon pages expanding on what I've written but see above re: time.
