[ WP ] Time travelling tourists from the future are commonplace at significant historical events . You get home and find time travellers watching you for an unknown reason .

`` Martha! Liz! Rose!'' I ask, accidentally slamming the door behind me. Truly a jerk thing to do- it's 11:30 at night and my daughter's would most definitely be asleep by now. I wince in anticipation of Rose's cries. At 8 months she's easily awoken from her sleep. But there's nothing except a deafening silence.'Maybe they had a long day' I muse to myself. 
 
 It's really peculiar, but probably just my imagination running wild- the air conditioner is off. Being the middle of a particularly steamy summer, I expected it to be on full blast. At least to give the little ones some white noise while they slept. 
 
 I tiptoe my way through the living room and turn off the TV. Funny, usually Martha does that right before she's about to sleep. I pay it no mind and slip quietly into the master bathroom, hanging my long brown trench coat on the bench beside the bed as I do. It really is deafeningly quiet. 
 
 Martha must be asleep. She's always been a quiet sleeper. `` Hello, love. Have you seen those people out there? Just standing there gawking- must be twenty of them. Anyways they look like their waiting for something to happen. I wonder if it's them time travelers? Must be pretty hard up for entertainment to come here and gawk at us.'' I'm shaving as I say this last part. 
 
 It's not uncommon for me to talk to my wife or my daughter's while they sleep. Working the second shift at the factory means I do n't get home till late and it's normally the only chance I have to get a word in edge-wise. 
 
 I'm in my boxers by the time I enter the bedroom again- looking forward to a long and cozy night next to my lovely wife. A gel like liquid hits my feet and I slip, falling on my ass. What in the world? `` Sweety, what's this stuff on the floor?'' I move to rouse her, but the bed is soaked in what seems to be the same thing. She does n't respond to my nudges like she usually does. In fact... she does n't respond at all. 
 
 `` Darling? Darling, wake up!'' I cry as I flick on the lights. I wretch at the sight before me. My lovely wife's torso is mutilated on the bed. Her legs are nowhere to be seen. I scream in absolute agony, then my mind races to the only thing that matters- my girls! 
 
 My wife's body was still warm, so whoever it is might still be here. I dodge into the kitchen and grab my butcher's cleaver. Hefty and sharp, a remnant from my old dad's profession. In a panic I rush into my daughter's bedroom's in turn. Compassion dictates that I spare you the gruesome details. Suffice to say, the moment I saw mt precious Liz' lifeless head I lost all faith in humanity. Rose's condition was far worse. 
 
 I run through the house kicking down doors, screaming and growling in pure, unadulterated rage. That bastard better show himself and hope I feel some mercy towards him, else it wo n't be pretty. I search frantically throughout the house for what seems like hours before I hear a knock on the door. 
 
 `` Hill City Police. Open up, Mr. Shackleford- we have you surrounded. 
 ____________________________________________________________ 
 
 Cyrla felt a dear drop down her face as she watched the leatherfaced ginger being brought away in in cuffs. 
 
 `` But daddy he did n't do it!'' She cries. `` We saw him, he just got home! He did n't kill his family.'' 
 
 `` I know, my dear. But we ca n't interfere.'' Her father stoically replies. `` The Laws forbid it.'' 
 
 `` What happens to him?'' Shyla, his wife, asks. 
 
 `` If I remember correctly, his trial is very public. Public sentiment always goes against a murder, even more so a rapist. In fact it is because of him that capital punishment and torture are reinstated for the next five hundred years.'' 
 
 `` But daddy he did n't do it! Please, just step through the barrier and tell them! Tell them what we saw!'' Cyrla screamed. Her father wheeled around and slapped her hard on her cheek. 
 
 `` We must not meddle with what has happened. All we can hope to do is to learn.'' He sounded like her teachers, cold and uninvolved. 
 
 `` But we saw it, daddy! It was n't him... it was one of us!''
