Clockface

Processed By: James Goodwill Sent By: Anonymous
Date/Time Received: June 14, 3:32am Date/Time Processed: June 14, 2:30am (not a typo)
Transcript of Report Received: It was a cold night, but not colder than usual. I was out way later than I really should have been. I had left the house at around about 11pm because we couldn't find the dog anywhere in the house and we were worried it had eacaped and run off into the woods. The woods were dark — too dark to see. I had to listen carefully for the dog. Instead of barking, like I had hoped, I heard something else. Something worse than silence. It was the ticking of a clock. A quick click every second. I couldn't tell where it was coming from. Somewhere deep in the woods ahead of me. I walked deeper, hoping to find the source. I was expecting to find a little clock sitting out in the grass. I was wrong. As I scuffled through leaves, the ticking got louder. It got louder and louder until it was piercing my ears, but I had no sign of a source. That is, until the ticking started to slow. It went from every second to every second and a half to every three and so on. As the ticking slowed, so did everything else. A leaf fell from a tree. It moved gracefully, decending at unbearable slowness. I stopped walking at the seight and sound of a shake in a bush from behind. I turned around. Behind me stood a man. A tall man. He wore a fancy suit and had a scuffed, white beard. His face… it was the ticking. His face was replaced with an analog clock. The second hand moved with the ticks. They were incredibly slow. One tick every ten seconds. I tried to back away, but the world was crawling. It was like running through budder, and then, it was like concrete. The ticking stopped. The world stopped with it. I saw the clock. It was frozen. I remember it vividly. 11:55 and 23 seconds. I couldn't breath. I couldn't move. I couldn't blink. But I could still see, and think, and feel. The man, frozen with me, suddenly jolted his arm to his head. He was wearing a wrist watch, seemingly wanting to check the time. The clock wasn't moving. After what felt like an entire minute of him staring at the unmoving watch, he dropped his hand back to his side. He then approached me, his clockface up to me. He looked at me without eyes. He stuck his hand in my pockets, finding nothing except a couple dimes I had as change from a vending machine. He took them, dancing them in his hand before dropping them into his own pocket. The ticks started again. The clock was moving again and the world did too. The second hand, it was going fast — too fast. The world was rapid. The wind hit me like a hurricane. The ticks went 50 times a second. I fell to the ground in an instant. I hit the dirty floor with incredible force, and yet it did not hurt. But I was dizzy. The world spun around me in a blurr. It went around and around, circling my vision a hundred times before it stopped. The ticking slowed. I regained my senses. The daze ceased. I got up, the man was gone. Everything felt normal again. After a moment, I caught my breath and returned home. I hadn't gone very far in the woods at all, but when I got back and checked the time, it was four in the morning. And the dog was there. It was sitting there by the clock, sleeping around the corner in a spot I had missed. It must had been there the whole time.

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