The Clock of Miss Fortune ✔

Chapter - 14

Balentine opened her eyes. She was on a white bed, in a small room with a small window with bars on it. She looked outside. Hannah looked outside as well. "Are you still here?" Balentine asked the trapped Hannah which she was aware about but came to a conclusion that it was her daughter's soul who was responding through time and barriers apart.

Balentine had started knitting sweaters ever since she felt that someone's presence inside her. She knew where she was. She didn't care about it. She was with her daughter she thought. But there was a hollow space which she wanted to fill. A soul with no body is non-existent. She needed a body. A child in her. The door opened to her small caged room. She stepped outside. On the other side was yet another room twisted by time. In that room was a man. A man lonely and lost of emotions. She knew him. He knew her. Balentine was the only one who could make him talk. And he talked freely despite his mind being a ball of muddled thoughts.

Hannah saw it. She felt it. That time was rather moving quickly. As if trying to show her the truth, the day of salvation and the end.

Balentine's room's door opened. And again, the corridor which was supposed to be there had turned and twisted by time and connected to the room of that certain man. It was silent. There was no one around. Not a single soul. Not a single outside existence. Balentine undressed. That man did as well. Her body had changed a lot. All the patients wore this white ragged gown. Hannah saw her thinned body. Yet it was beautiful. Hannah fell into pleasure. As if she was hypnotised by Balentine.

Balentine stroked him. She didn't care about anything else. Her mind wanted a vessel for her daughter's soul which was inside her. Her body did not need any pleasure. That man was only a means to start something new, something that belonged to her and no one else. The man did everything he wanted to do to her. She didn't mind. She let him play with her body as long as he was heated for the final act. He was like a beast hunger for years. He bruised her neck, her breasts, her stomach, her legs, and that wasn't enough to fill him full. Balentine didn't stop him. There was no pain for her. There was only one voice ringing inside her mind. It was Hannah's. But her words didn't reach her. How could they? They belonged in a different time and in a different place.

The man bruised her breasts, sucked on her cherry red nipples and bit them and chewed them. His hunger was rising. Eventually he was heated enough for the final act. A soft moan escaped Balentine's mouth. She felt the pain from his penis pushing in. He didn't stop. Like a raging beast he pushed harder. And without a conscious thinking Balentine was just like a doll who let the man sully her. He'd pull her hair and roughen up her breasts. Even with his penis in he'd push his finger deeper to get more pain, more pleasure and for someone like him where Balentine didn't resist, it made him want her body more. As time passed, his energy depleted and he came to a halt.

She dressed and opened the door. Time moved again and she entered it.

Balentine regained his consciousness. There was no need to know what had happened. The thing she hated the most was herself for letting yet another child, another daughter die before birth. And so, her mind broke. Hannah's voice still rang inside her mind. That is what made her believe that her daughter was still alive. She started knitting sweaters. Before long she started to carve a doll and thought of it as her daughter. She'd talk to her and in return would hear Hannah's voice which made no sense to her. There were no words, but meaningless mumbling. What changed was time. And time was what distorted Balentine's life. Time was what trapped Hannah inside Balentine's body. A never ending life of madness and a story which Hannah longed for a while.

Once again she was pushed back. The door to her room opened after a long time. As soon as she stepped out, time once again changed. She stood in the middle of the room. The fireplace was still there. The royal wallpaper and carpet was still the same. Howard was old, but still handsome, she thought. A smile escaped her lips despite her body gradually becoming weak. That night she longed for Howard's body. Nothing more and nothing less.

Howard looked at her. Like a man who longed for something but couldn't reach; it was now in front of him. Michael's voice echoed and only echoed like a baby's senseless words. "I want a boy." This was Michael's words which had now started to sweep in Howard's mind. "A boy to end it all. All the despair. All the conflict. An heir." Howard now thought the same things as the voice, Michael's voice inside him thought. Time was playing its role. And with time, Alvarez's influence as well.

"Balentine." Howard called her name. He called her again and again. He kissed her, caressed her cheeks and kissed her again. The room around them was distorting into nothingness. Blackness was all there was. And in that blackness stood Howard and Balentine. And the only object that floated was their red bed. In that blackness there was light only for those two to understand and thrive. His lips on hers. His hands in hers. His wish in himself. And now he undressed.