The Door Of Time
The everlasting feeling of a dew drop on the surface of a leaflet filled the room. The void of which filled the area was dim, cold and lifeless. There stood a clock, alone desolate on top of a withered stone pillar. The surface of the clock covered in dust particles as it droned on quietly.
Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock
The clock continued on as the darkness slithered it’s way around the pillar, awaiting the final stroke. As the final breath of life left with a wisp, the clock begun to shift. The hands of time started to struggle to keep up. After a few moments, nothing. The hands on the internal mechanism froze in place, the dim light of life fell from the clock and became dark. The gears of which were frozen in place begun to freeze over as the darkness grew around. The cold talons of darkness begun to reach around the clock with it’s final moments grasp. The sound of the void was the equivalent to the sound of solidarity and isolation, a deafened sound that would cause the mind to become desensitized from the world around it.
As the claws that emerged from the darkness of the void intertwined along the brass surface of the clock, the metal started to shift beneath the void. The metal slowly started to warp underneath, sounds of the axle depressurizing under the pressure filled the air around. As the darkness etched its way down the surface of the front glass frame, a slow shatter line grew from the top edge of the frame and made its way down the surface, producing further cracks and shatter lines outwards towards the outer edges.
The shape of a tree formed using the shatter lines, branches formed outwards. Within a mere half moment, the edges of the clocks brass surface begun to grow darkened by the cold of the void; almost burnt by the pressure the darkness caused. As the darkness grew, the metal started to click and creak, filling the sounds of the void. Within a few moments, the gears snapped back into place, and as the gear realigned itself, the sound of a loud tock emerged from the inside of casing. The darkness of the void froze in place along the surface of the clock. Within no more than three fourths of a moment later, it begun to stretch across the surface once more but just as it started up again, the sound of a loud tick came from the inside of the clock. The click of the millisecond hand on the internal clock snapped backwards drawing the darkness away from the edges of the clock. A small dim light illuminated from the surface of the device, causing the darkness to fall back even further. The hands on the internal clock started to click backwards more frequently, which in turn pulled the second hand back.
As the clock ticked further back, the darkness retreated. The second hand started to click faster and faster, with each second skipping the next. The second hand started to quicken, pushing the darkness backwards until it was no longer embracing the clock. Suddenly, the minute and hour hands were now acting up and reversing as well. Seconds turned to hours, minutes turned to days. Hours turned to months. As time pulled back, so did most of the infliction on the surface of the clock. The rust caused by the void slowly peeled off, the gears begun to warm up, the metal begun to warp back into its original formation, all had seemed well. As the flow of time started to reverse, the glass stayed the same. The shatter that flowed on the surface had stayed static. The crack had not been reverted like the other pieces of the device, it stayed in it’s original position.
Tock, Tick. Tock, Tick. Tock, Tick.
The hands of time spun faster and faster, the dust that once laid on the surface had now slowly been lifted into the air before dissipating into nothingness. As time had passed, the formation of dust begun to cluster over a surface unlike one that had not been seen prior. The cluster begun to shape itself into the surface of a hand, one of which was evenly spread across the face of the clock. Within mere moments, a hand had formed along the glass surface, then a body proceeded to form around it, and finally a cloak around that. The body that formed in moments of the hand had been of a human variety, almost lurched over a set of steps leading up to the pedestal that held the clock. As the body became detailed and fully formed, the aging process of the body begun to revert. The sounds of the clock begun to fill the air as a floor beneath the humanoid form and pedestal begun to shape, which led into stairs and furthermore another floor. With no more than a few minutes passed, a room filled around it, it was the shape of a cathedral, or a castle throne room. Pillars lined the walls, furniture laid scattered along the floor that had formed, dust had covered every corner of the room including the humanoid figure.
As windows begun to form in the room, the dust rose off the form and dissipated in mid air such as before. The color begun to fill the skin of the person kneeling before the clock. As time sped up, the world had been recreated and corrected. The world outside this building had formed once more, and the windows begun to fill in with stained glass. The glass contained ancient unknown rites and images of wars long passed. As time quickened its pace, the furniture that was once turned over had been reorganized in a much more royal conception. Chairs lined the walls, paintings that once laid on the floor where now crooked yet lined along the surface of the older walls. As the gears on the inside begun to spin out of control, the world started to shift violently around. Within no more than a few moments, a symbol had emerged in color along the surface of the cloak of the kneeling being. The cloak was of a purple color set, with golden liners along the edges. The symbol sat perfectly in the middle of the back torso, it resembled the Crescent Moon mixed with part of the sun for an outer edge, and in the center the hands of a clock filled. The echoing sounds of a forgotten war filled the air as time slowed its pace. The sounds of blood curdling screams echoed in the chambers, the sound of retreating foot steps created a bone chilling ambiance. After no longer than a few minutes, time begun to slow down back to its original required pace. Gears boiling hot from the transition, the axle shifting violently from one inner wall to the other. The sound of howling wind filled the area as the last chunk of the void dissipated from behind the clock.
As time came to a halt, the feeling of time standing still filled the room with its aura. The form that knelt against the stone surface before the clock begun to breath. After no more than a half moment, the fingers twitched against the glass and the person that seemed to have been lifeless slowly pulled their head up to look at the clock. They removed their hand in a painful fashion and stared deeply into the surface where the crack laid.
"Almost didn't make it." they choked out with a small grin. A cloud of dust collected along the surface of the clock as they stared into their own reflection. A pink-like skin tone, lips slightly unsaturated, skin slightly roughened by the event, jaw line smoothly drawn across the edge of their face and eyes glistening with life in their own deep ocean blue way. The human pulled themselves up into a weakened stance, pulled their hood off and brushed off their garments. The persons hair drifted out and had a gentle flow amongst the breeze that had been created. Hair as long and vibrant as an autumn leaf shower. The person reached up and started brushing the dirt and dust off from their chest down to their pants. Their linens closely fit, pressing gently along the surface of their breasts, and along their body which comfortably fit them. The figure had turned to be a woman of regular design. Nothing special had graced her figure, no royal treatments, nothing. A seemingly regular woman stood before the clock of time. She slowly reached down, grasped her dainty hands around the clock and lifted it to her face. With a gently breath, she blew off the dust that had reasserted itself along the clock. The gentle sounds of the clock now filled the air. A small breeze from a cracked pane was now a mere wisp amongst the sound of trees outside. Birds chirping, leaves rustling, the sound of a nearby horse echoed in the distance. As the sun shone through one of the windows panes with a deep rose red, the woman placed the clock gently against the pedestal one more time. She then pulled the hood over her head, spun around and started to make her way down the dirty gravel-covered steps. With each step, an echoing tick followed. She slowly reached down, wrapped her hand around a dark oak, hand crafted staff, and begun to use it as a walking stick. With a grin plastered on her face, she made her way out of the dimming chambers as night begun to fall. After only a few moments, she laughed quietly under her breath and exited the building.
"No turning back." she smiled, before disappearing amongst the night. "The hands of time."
As the suns final peak disappeared along the coast line, the room became dark, merely lit by the moonlight through the opposing window.
"Otherwise... time stands still." a following voice of an elderly man echoed throughout the chamber, before the doorway slammed shut. After the sound of the slam disappeared, the sound of the clock filled the air, like the melody of a siren luring her prey to their demise.