18
Feb
Tick tock. Tick tock.
“Would someone shut that damn clock up?”
Nobody moved.
“You lot…”
The clock chimed.
Once. Twice.
He walked over to the clock, glaring at the others in the room as he did.
Three chimes. Four.
He grabbed the pendulum.
Five chimes. Six.
“Damn thing doesn’t stop?” He moved the hands on the face away from the hour.
Seven. Eight.
He looked at the others. “A little help guys.”
Nine. Ten.
“C’mon, c’mon. Help me!”
Eleven. Twelve long chimes.
“Oh hell.” He pulled out a gun and faced the room.
A thirteenth chime, longer and lower than the previous twelve.
The gun fired once before he was overwhelmed.
Comments
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Icy Sedgwick on 02.18.2011
There is something so unmistakeably bizarre about a thirteenth chime, and you’ve captured it perfectly.
Deanna Schrayer on 02.18.2011
Wonderful pacing James, I could feel the tension quite clearly. Well done!
Eric J. Krause on 02.18.2011
Excellent story. A thirteenth chime certainly deserves a gunshot…
adamjkeeper on 02.18.2011
liked the desperation, hints at something much bigger going on for the reader to work out for themselves. nice.
The Four Part Land on 02.19.2011
Thank you all.
I love the idea of a 13th chime or something out of sync with the rest of the world, it makes a wonderful piece to write about.
@adam I don’t really know what the other creatures in the room are, but I was thinking of them as something out of H.P. Lovecraft by the end of the piece. As to why he was there, or anything of that nature, I have no idea.