A series of unfortunate events: the continuation

Chapter 3: Countless Clocks

The trip along the ocean now, didn't seem as pleasant as it first turned out to be. The tide was starting to turn in and the sky turned a devilish red as the sun started to set and a mild drizzle started to pour from above onto the Baudelaires and their friends.

Quigley had a solemn and determined expression on his face, indicating that he was going to get through the harshest of storms to get to the safe place he pointed out.

On the other hand, his fellow friends were not as sure. They were unsure whether they were heading the right way; they were unsure whether they made the correct decision of leaving for a place they had never been to and most of all, they were unsure of what harsh destiny was awaiting them.

"Full speed ahead," commanded Quigley and all woed faces turned to him.

"We have arrived!" he exclaimed with a pleasant smile broadly plastered across his face and his atmospheric self- for the first time - joyful and condemned with pride.

The phrase 'joyful and condemned with pride' means how great the triplet felt, being able to lead the way to a safe place where, presumably, all of their fears would disappear and they would be far, far away from the wicked ways of the world.

Most unfortunately, however, I am afraid this is not so. As this story of mystery and melancholy proceeds, I ask you young reader, please don't read on, for your life will turn miserable and you will encounter the same dangers as the Baudelaires and their mates.

"We have arrived," stated Quigley once more.

"Huh?" questioned the youngest Baudelaire, which probably meant something along the lines of, " where are we, and are you sure we are safe?"

Beatrice's first question was addressed quite instantly - as they stepped off board, they entered a hollow cave, with freshly lit lanterns on the walls and writing too old to figure out. The floor was damp due to the constant tide of sea and had little puddles drenching little Beatrice's feet. Unusual objects were scattered across the ground and a recent fireplace indicated that they were not the only ones resting ashore.

In addition, the mere fact of countless of clocks ahang in the cave didn't go unnoticed and sent chills down every single child's bone - it was as if it belonged to a cult or maybe something even worse...

"Duncan, Quigley, Baudelaires?" whispered Isadora Quagmire, " I have this very weird fee..."

"Look! There are books here!" exclaimed Klaus, "whoever stayed here, should have had a love for literature," he said, as he examined the pile of books that lay right beside his feet, ignoring the statement Isadora didn't quite finish.

The triplet looked devastated that Klaus, instead of listening to her, preferred his books, but she said nothing to point out his ignorance and pride.

Violet also found herself a duty - tieing her hair up in a purple ribbon, Violet Baudelaire's mind started wizzing with extraordinary ideas of what she could possibly invent with the tools she found on the floor. She was aware that they were possibly not the only ones who discovered this hiding place, however resting without food was self-torture.

Sunny decided to make a fire to sleep - if they could - by for the night while the Quagmires took care of some blankets they found on deck.

The cave was not a mansion and didn't have comfy cushions, elegant sofas and servants serving the children, however for someone who went through a tough life at such a young age, this minor cave seemed like a beautiful humble abode.

Hours passed and the sailors lay asleep on the hoarse blankets that they discovered onboard the Beatrice. They dreamt of rose gardens and a simple life away from the treacheries of the world: they dreamt of their parents and how they would hug and kiss them and wish them a good night in their warm beds.

Unfortunately, this was just a dream.

"Well, well, well," chanted a sly voice so quiet, that the Baudelaires were too deep in sleep to recognize or even hear.

Klaus felt a warm hand rest upon his shoulder as he slept, and instantly thought of his mother that used to do the same when putting him to bed.

Anothed voice sang, "Cakesniffers sleeping in a hollow cave, cakesniffers sleeping in an ultra daze... And I-i-i  a-mmm..."

"Quiter my darling," interrupted the second voice, " you don't want to wake up these poor children now, do you?"