Mayhem 2019 (JackSepticEye Prompts)

Day 3: The Calm

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Time was always infinitely slower when waiting for something to end, but this dragged on worse than anything Jameson had ever felt before. Business was usually lacking at this time of night so he thought the impatience would have left him by now, yet here he was, tapping his fingers as he stared at the clock on the wall, waiting for closing time to arrive.

Of course, it didn't help that he was expecting someone to come after hours. He'd made the appointment with butterflies in his stomach and the nervousness was back in full force, showing itself in the anxious tapping of his fingers on the countertop. The calm of the atmosphere around him felt wrong compared to the thumping of his heartbeat.

Tick tock.

Tick tock.

Jameson glanced around at the mess of clocks around him. He'd gotten so annoyed at the constant ticking that he removed the batteries from most of them and put a sign letting people know to check a clock's working order with him, but a few ancient ones on the walls still clicked deliberately onwards, echoing loudly through his head. It was starting to get on his nerves.

Tick tock.

Only a little longer. Jameson hoped his appointment would be worth it for all the trouble he was going through for it. The seller was supposed to have a clock dating back a century, encrusted with gold and extremely tempting for a lover of clocks such as himself. Though he found the ticking obnoxious, Jameson loved working on clocks, playing with all the gears inside and running his little shop. A clock so old and valuable was something he just couldn't resist. 

Tick.

Tick.

Silence.

Jameson looked up, noticing that the clocks had stopped ticking. All of them were stuck at 8:59 with the second hand only one click away from turning them to 9:00. How strange. Was it a coincidence that all the batteries had run out at the same time?

Suddenly, the bell at the front door rang, indicating a customer. Jameson turned to see a man walk into his shop, his face hidden by a black hooded shirt of some kind. He wore black denim pants with holes in them, which was something Jameson had never seen before. And a large pocket sewn onto the front of this oversized shirt? What a strange assortment of clothing.

Before Jameson could say anything, the man spoke, his voice strangely high-pitched and deep at the same time.

"Are you the clockmaker, Jame҉son̢ Jac͝ks͝ón͠?̡"

There was something seriously off about this guy, especially since he wasn't the person he'd met with to negotiate a time and place for the clock. However, he nodded against his better judgement.

The man let out a smile underneath the shadows of his hood. "P҉erf͘e̷ćt̛."

Fast as lightning, he leapt forward, sliding across the counter and thrusting a knife to the place where Jameson's head had been a moment earlier. Jameson scrambled away on all fours, heart pounding as the man's laughter filled his shop.

Was it just him, or was everything getting darker?

Jameson heard the man--no, monster--run up behind him and he shoved himself out of the way, hearing a loud thunk of the knife stabbing the wood floor. Quickly, he jumped up and ran into the aisles, ricocheting off the back wall and sending clocks everywhere. 

Have to get to the back room, use the back exit--

The monster was suddenly right in front of him, slashing out with claws that had been previously hidden in its clothing. Jameson felt a stinging pain along his chest and gasped, but the shock didn't last long. He reached over and began throwing clocks at the monster, causing it retreat slightly and give him some time to run.

It had been blocking the way to the back room, which meant Jameson would either have to find a way around the monster or risk exposing himself and run to the front door. Neither option seemed good, but in the split-second that he turned a corner, he'd made a decision.

Jameson bolted down the aisle toward the front door, hoping to trick the monster into thinking he was going for the front, but it didn't seem to be following him anymore. He stopped just before the end of the aisle to catch his breath, listening for the sounds of footsteps or broken glass. Yet, everything was eerily quiet.

Much too quiet for it to be good.

As if predicting the future, Jameson felt something sharp press against his neck and winced as it cut through flesh. The monster slid a hand across his stinging torso, forcing something small and cold into his hand.

"Te͢ll ҉t͝ḩe͠m͟ ́An̛t͟i̷ ̡s͞ęńt y̛ǫu͏,̡" the monster taunted.

It pushed Jameson forward, causing him to stumble as he whipped around to face it, but the monster had disappeared, leaving nothing but the faint impression of a grin in its wake.

Jameson looked down at the object that was becoming hotter at a phenomenal rate. It was a pocket watch, and he saw as he opened it that the hands were spinning much too fast for it to be a normal clock.

Everything was getting brighter. The pocket watch burned in his hand as Jameson's shop began to dissolve, raising his arm to try and block the horrible vision in front of him. There was a flash of light and suddenly, it was over.

Jameson dropped the pocket watch onto the floor, which was now steaming from how hot it had become. It lay on an unfamiliar floor of a place that certainly wasn't his shop.

Suddenly, a man spoke with a similar voice to the monster's, only softer and kinder. "Who the hell are you?"

What comforting words after such a traumatizing turn of events.

~~~

Eyy it's JJ, our third favorite probably-not-a-puppet! I honestly had no idea what to do for this one, but time travel seemed the most appropriate because of his old-timey origins (yes that last bit was time travel, no I will not explain why). It's always fun to write about the calm before a storm.

Still writing this late on May 8th, but I'm slowly catching up! I believe in me!!! I hope you guys believe in me too, cuz I'm having waaaayyyyy too much fun with this for it to be healthy. If I'm late to work tomorrow, I blame all of you (jk, but I work early and will probably have many regrets).

As the great Dr. Eggman says on occasion, "Toodles!"

- that one clock forever 5 minutes ahead