The Clock
ROOM −001
Chapter 1: The Clock
At Blackwood Academy, the clocks were never wrong.
That was one of the first things Mr. Arvind Rao had been told when he joined the school.
The second thing was stranger.
Never enter Room 100.
Nobody had explained why.
Seven years later, Arvind had stopped thinking about it.
Until Tuesday.
The rain had started before sunrise, turning the long stone corridors of Blackwood Academy dark and cold. By eight o'clock, the boarding students had disappeared into their classrooms, teachers were rushing between lessons, and the old brass clock above the main staircase was ticking with its usual irritating precision.
Arvind stood at his desk, marking attendance.
"Mehta."
"Present."
"Sharma."
"Present."
"Fernandes."
"Present."
He paused.
There were thirty-two students in the class.
Thirty-one names had been answered.
He looked at the final name.
Daniel Voss.
"Voss?"
Silence.
Arvind looked toward the door.
Nothing.
He marked Daniel absent.
Then he noticed the time.
10:17.
Exactly.
He frowned.
For some reason, the number bothered him.
Not because 10:17 was unusual.
Because yesterday, at exactly 10:17, the corridor lights outside his classroom had flickered three times.
And the day before that...
The bell had rung seventeen seconds late.
He had dismissed both incidents.
Coincidence.
Schools were full of coincidences.
He closed the attendance register.
Then something fell out.
A small piece of paper.
Arvind picked it up.
There was only one sentence written on it.
LOOK AT THE CLOCK AT 10:17.
No name.
No signature.
No explanation.
He turned the paper over.
Blank.
For several seconds he simply stared at it.
Then the classroom door opened.
Mrs. Sen, the mathematics teacher, walked in.
"Everything all right?"
Arvind folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket.
"Yes."
She looked at him suspiciously.
"You don't look like yes."
"I'm fine."
She shrugged and walked toward the staff room.
Arvind waited until she was gone.
Then he looked at the clock.
10:18.
Nothing happened.
He almost laughed.
Someone was playing a stupid prank.
That had to be it.
He returned to his lesson.
---
At 10:17 the following morning, the entire school stopped.
Not literally.
But almost.
The corridor lights went out.
Every electronic bell in the eastern wing switched on simultaneously.
The library printer began printing.
The old announcement speaker crackled.
And somewhere deep inside the school, something metallic slammed shut.
Then everything returned to normal.
Seven seconds later, the lights came back.
The students began talking.
Teachers stepped into corridors.
Someone laughed.
Arvind didn't.
He was staring at his attendance register.
Yesterday's attendance page had been perfectly normal.
Today's page wasn't.
Someone had drawn a tiny black circle around one student's name.
Daniel Voss.
Arvind's stomach tightened.
Daniel had been absent again.
He looked toward the classroom door.
Then toward the clock.
10:18.
He opened the register.
There was something written beneath Daniel's name.
Not in his handwriting.
Not in any handwriting he recognized.
Three numbers:
100
17
−001
Arvind stared at them.
He didn't know what they meant.
But he knew one thing.
Someone had deliberately put them there.
And someone knew he would notice.
---
That evening, Arvind went to the library.
Blackwood Academy's library was enormous, occupying almost the entire northern wing of the original building.
Thousands of books.
Hundreds of years of records.
And, according to the school's official history, absolutely nothing unusual.
He walked between the shelves until he reached the oldest section.
The books here were rarely touched.
Dust covered the shelves.
The air smelled of paper and wood.
Arvind took out his phone.
He typed:
Blackwood Academy Room 100
Nothing useful.
He tried:
Blackwood Academy −001
Nothing.
He was about to give up when he noticed a book lying slightly apart from the others.
It was old.
Dark green.
No title on the spine.
Arvind pulled it out.
A small piece of paper slipped from between its pages.
He caught it before it reached the floor.
There were four words on it.
YOU WERE TOLD TO WATCH.
Arvind's heart began beating faster.
He opened the book.
Inside the front cover, someone had written a date.
14 October 1987.
Below it was a name.
Elias Vane.
Arvind knew the name.
Everyone at Blackwood did.
Elias Vane had been a member of the school staff decades ago.
He had died in 1987.
The official story said it had been an accident.
Arvind had never questioned it.
Until now.
He turned the page.
Nothing.
Another page.
Nothing.
Then, near the middle of the book, he found a sentence underlined in faded ink.
When the clock speaks, find the room that should not exist.
Arvind looked toward the library entrance.
Nobody was there.
He looked back at the page.
His eyes moved slowly toward the bottom.
There was one final line.
Start with Room 100.
The lights above him flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Arvind closed the book.
For the first time in seven years, he remembered the warning he'd been given on his first day at Blackwood Academy.
Never enter Room 100.
He suddenly understood something.
The warning had never been meant to keep him out.
It had been meant to make sure he became curious enough to go looking.
And somewhere inside Blackwood Academy...
someone was waiting for him to find it.
bravo!