Then I saw it. I saw a mom who would die for her son. A man who would kill for his wife. A boy, angry and alone. Laid out in front of him, the bad path. I saw it. And the path was a circle. Round and round. So I changed it.
Time travel has not yet been invented. But thirty years from now, it will have been. It will be instantly outlawed, used only in secret by the largest criminal organizations. It’s nearly impossible to dispose of a body in the future… I’m told. Tagging techniques, whatnot. So when these criminal organizations in the future need someone gone, they use specialized assassins in our present called “loopers.” And so, my employers in the future nab the target, they zap him back to me, their looper. He appears, hands tied and head sacked, and I do the necessaries. Collect my silver. So the target is vanished from the future, and I’ve just disposed of a body that technically does not exist. Clean.
There’s a reason we’re called loopers. When we sign up for this job, taking out the future’s garbage, we also agree to a very specific proviso. Time travel in the future is so illegal, that when our employers want to close our contracts, they’ll also want to erase any trace of their relationship with us ever existing. So if we’re still alive 30 years from now, they’ll find our older self, zap him back to us, and we’ll kill him like any other job. This is called closing your loop. Eh, you get a golden payday, you get a handshake, and you get released from your contract. Enjoy the next 30 years. This job doesn’t tend to attract the most forward-thinking people.
All right, listen. This is a hard situation for you, but we both know how this has to go down. I can’t let you walk away from this diner alive. This is my life now. I earned it. You had yours already. So why don’t you do what old man do and die? Get the fuck out of my way.
Fuck you. And your wife. None of this concerns me.
It happened to you. It doesn’t have to happen to me. You got a picture right there in my watch? Let me see. Show me the picture. As soon as I see her, I walk away. I’ll fucking marry someone else. Promise. So when I see that picture, that fog inside your brain should just swallow up all the memories, right? She’ll be gone. If you give her up, she’ll be safe.
Yeah, give her up. You’re the one who got her killed. She never meets you, she’s safe.
I work as a specialized assassin, in an outfit called the Loopers. When my organization from the future wants someone to die, they zap them back to me and I eliminate the target from the future. The only rule is: never let your target escape… even if your target is you.
Loopers are well paid, they lead a good life…
I’m gonna fix this! I’m gonna find him, and I’m gonna kill him!
