This is a story I made because I've finished the Crucible in class and I took an interest in the fact that Abigail didn't get hung when she should have. So, this is my take on it. I believe it to be unfair, so I did this. Now, as the title says, it's futuristic meaning time travel. I got the title from Katy Perry, but it's not a songfic.

I don't own the Crucible. if I did, Abigail would have died.

My name is Angel and I'm on a mission. I have to go back to the time specified in the Crucible and change it; I have to make it so Abigail was hung along with the others. 'How will she accomplish this?' you may ask. Well, the answer may seem complicated, but it's very simple. I was born in the year 2996 when technology really thrived within the United States of North America. Yes, that's right. The United States expanded itself all the way to the tip of Mexico and all of Canada. Eastern USNA police demolished the drug cartels going on near the Mexican border rather than the western police, resulting in the Bombing of Southwest. Of course, that meant that a lot of people died, but it also meant that no one was going to try drug trafficking for awhile yet. We took Canada by force because the Electoral College had become corrupted and so elected a corrupt president. President George Ivan Calloway was a vicious leader that didn't care about the people's rights so long as he got all the money he wanted. He abused the presidential power and Congress went along with it for the luxuries.

This, of course, caused a rise in technological power. Now, most USNA citizens didn't even have to get out of bed because of mechanics; all they had to do was press a button and a robot would bring their food/clothing/entertainment/work to them. It reminded me of this show from the late twentieth century called the Jetsons. I think one of my past lives may have watched it as well; she was probably an albino as well; all of my past lives have been written to be albinos, just with different tastes. The one that watched the Jetsons and the Flintstones as a child grew up to watch Johnny Bravo, CatDog, Cow and Chicken and Dexter's Laboratory as a young girl and then in her teens she began watching more Disney shows such as Sonny With a Chance, Shake It Up and one of my personal favorites (and probably hers too) Wizards of Waverly Place.

Anyway, enough chatting, I have to focus on the task at hand. You see, it is the year 4,492 and I'm a scientist for NASA. This NASA isn't the one most United States of Americans grew up with. We gave up sending people to the moon a long time ago and instead worked on cloning materials that are used for energy and resources. The NASA I am a part of is the Never Aging Society of Adolescents. It is a lot of teenagers like myself working an underground laboratory to help the betterment of mankind. We don't trust the government anymore than our past lives did and so we've been working on ways to help the nation (and at times the world) so that humanity doesn't completely obliterate itself.

We invent numerous things for the betterment of not just ourselves, but also others. We have mixed together a temporary non-aging drink to give to the elderly so they can see their grandchildren grow up. It lasts ten to twelve years maximum and by then, the elders believe they've seen enough. However, most of our experiments are kept secret because of government dictatorship. That's what it's become. Oh it's still a democratic republic, but it's more like a dictatorship, like down in Puerto Cuba.

Anyway, that's how we got our name; we created a lotion that made one immortal. We could still get hurt and such and we could still die, but unless something happens to us to make us die, we stay the same age forever. Something has to kill us in order for us to lay at peace. Frankly, I prefer it this way because then I can continue to help the world, but the others who put on the lotion didn't see it that way. Many killed themselves when their family died while the rest just moped around feeling sorry for themselves. I use my immortality to try new things and help other people who need it. Wow, I'm rambling. Let's move on to the next topic.

My team and I have been working on a time machine watch that could transport us wherever whenever. The government has one in one of the CIA labs, but it's very big and bulky. We've been working on a transportable one for years and now, we've finally made a breakthrough. We've tested it numerous times, seeing how far back in time we can go and how far forward. It seems endless and we don't want to push it in case one of our scientists doesn't come back.

So now, we're working on ways of fixing the past to make things better for our present. We have hunting parties that go out and kill specific people in the past so that the population drops and we aren't overpopulating the world. There are people who kill Dinosaurs just to get bones from them for twentieth century scientists and others who work on medicines to cure diseases in the past. Well, I'm an expert with knives and sharp weaponry (living a long time gives you a lot of time to learn extraneous things) so you can guess which team I'm on. Actually, you probably can't since I'm writing this to twenty-first century dwellers rather than my own, scientifically altered team of forty-fifth century dwellers, but no matter.

In actuality, I'm part of the hunting team because I have a fascination with bloodshed; my team thought this a good trait of an assassin and sent me through training immediately. Now, here I am, getting prepped to go back in time and illustrate a plan to get Abigail hung. According to my superiors (as IF! No one is more superior than me since I'm the oldest at sixteen. Or, if you want to get technical, one thousand four hundred ninety-six.) I am supposed to seduce Abigail and make her fall in love with me rather than John Proctor.

"Now remember Angel," my best friend, Hannah, reminded me. "Just go in, seduce her, expose her, and get out. Got it?"

"Got it." I replied evenly.

"Good." She finished plaiting my hair down my back and turned me to face her. "You'll have to wear your contacts this time, no glasses so far back in the past." I nodded and slowly popped in my contacts, smiling as I did so.

"Ready?" Hannah asked, typing a few things on the computer.

"Totally." I replied, straightening my thick, wool jacket.


"A-positive." She looked at me strangely and I sighed in aggravation. "How do you still not know vampire speak? As long as you've known me, you should know 'A-positive' means 'definitely, one hundred percent positive'!"

Hannah nodded with a sheepish smile and typed a few last things into her computer. "Alright, go back to May 1st 1691. It's fourteen days after Abigail's sixteenth birthday on the seventeenth of April. Got that?"

I chuckled and replied, "Hannah, if you say it anymore, I won't be able to forget for the rest of my life."

Hannah blushed and said, "I just wanna make sure you have it, that's all."

I nodded and began setting my watch. "I'll be back before you even know I'm gone." I told her, setting the time to four in the afternoon. She gave me a beaming smile and all of my team waved to me as I pressed the 'Go' button.

There was a flash of bright light and I found myself standing in a town square filled with people. Or rather, half-filled with people. Salem must not have been a very large town after all. Arthur Miller was spot on about the place being small, but I could clearly tell who was who. I watched as Giles and Francis conversed over what the matter could be and I turned to find myself face-to-face with none other than Elizabeth Proctor. She looked me up and down for a moment before smiling and extending her hand. "Evening, my good lady." She said pleasantly. "I hope it is serving you well?"

I cocked my head to the side for a moment, smiling at her before replying, "Why yes, Goody Proctor, it does serve one well when fed and bathed before a town… meeting, I presume?"

Elizabeth shook her head and turned half of her attention to a kind of podium where Parris and Putnam were both squabbling like ducks. "No, my lady. Mr. Putnam and Reverend Parris are in disagreement over land again and the villagers love to watch. Why, even my John likes to see this because he despises both men and wishes to see them do harm to each other."

"John?" I ask in confusion. "Why, I didn't know he liked violence among people."

"Oh, he's a right nice man usually, but the Reverend and Mr. Putnam naturally set him off and expose a different side to him."

I nodded and glanced around. "Where is your John, m'lady?"

Elizabeth glanced to the front of the crowd and pointed to a brunette head. "There be my John, young miss. He likes to be at the front to watch the mayhem up close."

I nodded once more and looked at her face. "Not to be rude, Goody Proctor, but where be Miss Abigail Williams?"

Elizabeth turned fully to face me, her face alight with suspicion. "If you be one of those richer woman who are trying to steal my maid, God so help me, I'll-."

"No madam, you have me wrongly figured out." I said hurriedly. "I come here because Abigail is a long time friend of mine and I miss her dearly. I was only wondering if you'd seen her around?"

Elizabeth visibly relaxed and looked around for the redheaded troublemaker. Moments later, Elizabeth gently touched my shoulder and pointed to a scarlet head near the left of the crowd. "There she be, young miss. Though, I might warn you; she be a troublesome prat these days. I suggest giving her to your father and having him whip her a good one."

I laughed lightly at the insult to Abigail and said, "Do not worry, Goody Proctor. I will set her straight again without need of a whip."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at me, but nodded all the same and turned back to watching the argument between Parris and Putnam as I made my way slowly through the crowd to Abigail. I slid beside her and found myself next to a young brunette that I assumed was Betty Parris.

"Well hello there, young Betty." I said softly so as not to startle her.

The young girl turned to me in surprise and asked, "How do you know my name, good miss? I believe not that we've met before."

I held out my hand for her to shake as I replied, "I get around a lot, young miss. I know things that others are too blind or deaf to see or hear." Betty nodded slowly and let go of my hand, burrowing further into Abigail's side.

"Betty, stay still." Abigail scolded gently, turning her head slightly. I smiled at the redhead and waited for her to look up. Within seconds, Abigail's eyes caught sight of me and she turned her body to face me. "Who might you be, young miss?" Abigail asked slowly, taking in my appearance and quirking an eyebrow.

"I come to make friends with you, young Williams." I say softly, switching my demeanor to one of shyness rather than the bold one I had used with Betty.

Abigail snorted and asked, "Then why does the young miss wear men's clothing?"

I gave her a small smile and responded with a shake of my head. Abigail continued to look at me and so I sighed heavily. "My mama so desperately wanted a little boy. She had made the clothes and everything, but she was deeply disappointed by my femininity. So, she dressed me in men's clothing and treated me like a man, though she also made her best efforts to make me appear as a woman as well, in case a fine young man came to marry me."

Abigail nodded. "Your mother is doing a good job. Is she well?"

I give her a sad smile and say, "'Tis three years since her death pass, ma'am. My daddy left me alone when she died, not bothering to bring me with him when he moved away." Abigail's eyes filled with sadness at this. Did I mention I'm an actress? I'm not really that good, but my voice and expressions can tell any kind of story I want them to.

Abigail laid a hand on my arm and gave it a soft, comforting pat. "I am deeply sorry for this, young miss, but if I may ask?" I gave her a slow nod, still conveying sadness. "How do you get your meals and clothing, ma'am?"

I sigh and twirl my bangs around my right forefinger. "I have to do things I'm not proud of, Miss Abigail. Things I wish I didn't have to do, but need to in order to survive." I knew I'd won her over for support when I saw the look of almost motherly concern on her face.

I gave her a small smile and brushed my hands on my cottony pants. "I guess I must be going ma'am. I have duties to attend to. But I would really like to see you again?" I was hoping she took the bait because if she didn't this would be harder.

I saw her struggling with a decision as I turned to go and as I was walking toward the south side of the town, she called out to me. "Wait, miss. Maybe, I mean, perhaps you can stay with my uncle and me? I could ask his permission of course, but it wouldn't do for a young woman such as yourself to have no home."

I turned back to her with that small smile still in place. "I must thank you, Miss Abigail. I will do all I can to stay on my best behavior, miss."

"Please," the redhead murmured, walking over to me. "Call me Abby."

I nodded to this and replied, "Angel."

There you have it folks. The first chapter. Now, do me a favor and review so I can know if it's any good. I'll post whether it's good or not, but still. Let me know how you like it.