Hey everyone! Here is a short horror story. I warn you that it is not for children, or the faint hearted. This is thanks for 50+ follows. Oh and if you have the time follow me on twitter at twitter.com/H_EGordon and like me on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/hegordonpage
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The Clockwork Heart
It was a morning like any other in my opinion. I got up out of bed, got ready and went off to work. I was just a quiet, normal guy. I never bothered anyone and as a husband I was neither good nor bad. I did my share with my wife, taking care of our five year old daughter Sarah and we never argued or anything like that; we were a normal family. Now I work a plain old office job, it’s nothing special; just working with clients, numbers, text…etcetera. So like I said, it was a normal day. So I sat there at my desk just off the phone with a client, scribbling the contents of the long draining conversation. 12 o’clock would have been rolling in soon and I was thinking if I should go to the canteen for lunch, what I was doing after, what time to pick up my daughter. Things like that. Then I heard a scream from Cassie; the receptionist at the front desk. It was meant to be a normal day and this was never meant to happen.
The man who held the gun to Cassie’s head was rugged; I assumed he was definitely on some narcotics. He smelled foul, and as he grinned his blackening, decaying teeth were baring for us all to see. He shouted for us all to stand and put our hands in the air. Of course, we all complied. He then had us all line up for him and the maniac waved the gun around. Now at this moment my co-worker, David who was known to not be the brightest spark in the office, decided to utter the slightest noise in an attempt to form words.
Maybe David had wanted to speak up for himself or maybe attempt to calm our captor. Either way it didn’t matter. Even though it was David who had squeaked; it was me that he pulled the trigger at. I could feel the bullet start to tear into my chest and in a nanosecond, it was all over.
I jolted awake not knowing where I was. Was it all a dream? I questioned myself looking around at my surrounds. I was lying on a bare table top in what looked like an abandoned warehouse. The walls thin and rusted and it felt just empty and devoid of any life. However, when I turned my head all of a sudden there was a hunched man. He was shrunken with age and though I could not seem his face clearly under the hood he had long, worn fingers clasped together which showed his age.
“Finally you have decided to come from the other side.” He whispered with a rasp, screeching voice.
“Who are you?” I questioned and he replied again with a soft spoken answer.
“I am the one people call when they need more time in the living world. They call me the Clock Maker. Your heart was destroyed, but you were not ready to move on. So I fitted you with a new one.” Horrified at the revelation with disbelief I looked to my chest to see if I had been tampered with. To my horror the flesh had been cut open and spread revealing my insides. Where my heart was meant to be there was a grim looking piece of bloody machinery made up of clogs and bolts. Slowly I saw the pieces turn, grinding the connected valves slowly into it. I suddenly became aware of the excruciating pain that I was in.
“Why are you doing this?” I asked with a voice filled with pain and fear.
“Because you need time, you have five hours to do as you wish to let you rest in peace. However, as time goes on the machine in your chest will slowly tear you up from your valves to your arteries, organs and veins. Then when time is up you will go to your final resting place. I took in his words slowly, though it was hard to grasp my situation, I had no real choice but to go along. I got up from the table and looked to the Clock Maker.
“I’ll patch you up.” He hissed and I frowned.
“You better hurry, I don’t want to waste anymore time.”
I left the warehouse dressed to hide my gruesome stitching, with thoughts swirling around my head. Revenge: that was what I wanted. I knew I could not go after my killer; he was probably in custody, or even dead. No, I don’t even think my anger was even towards him. So I would take my frustrations on the one person that got me killed in the first place. David. If it wasn’t for him, I would still be alive.
Since I was never that close with David outside of work I had no idea where he lived. It would take too long to find out as well. I looked at the watch on my phone, it was 5.50, I had just under three and a half hours left and it would take around forty minutes to get to the office; David’s shift ends at eight so I had time to prepare myself. I was utterly consumed with anger and though I found it difficult to process that I wanted to kill a man, I realised that it may be because when you have nothing left to lose, morals slowly slip from memory. Law, justice, order, what was it all to me now? I was already dead inside. As the bus rolled into the city I left at a stop further away for an appropriate detour. I walked into the gun shop. I remembered when I signed the petition to try and shut the place down; anyone who knew me when I was alive would call me a hypocrite. I came out with a Glock; if he was going to die it would be with a bullet in his chest.
I checked the time on my watch: 7.10. I had time to take that twenty minute walk to work. As I walked I gripped my chest, digging my fingers into the thick wired stitching, on the edge of madness to not rip out the contraption that was killing me. Blood started to seep through my shirt so I wrapped my coat tighter round me. When the office was in sight it suddenly hit me that I couldn’t walk straight into it, I would be recognised right away. I walk to the back of the building and took out my keys for the back. I quietly open the door and it is unusually quiet from the back entrance. Nonetheless I made my way to the open plan office where everyone was working. There was no one. Not a soul was in the office and David’s desk was empty. How could this happen. I walked to the reception area and what I saw stunned me. Flowers were everywhere, covering the desk and floor around it. There were ten people’s pictures including mine on the top of the desk. Carrie, David and other of my co-workers had been killed just like me. I looked to one of the articles pinned on the front of the desk. I needed more answers. Apparently after killing me he went on a rampage before being gunned down by one of our security workers. All of a sudden I see the picture of Ruth, my wife and Sarah, they were morning. Then it hit me, I never said goodbye. I… wanted to see them again.
I looked to my watch: 8.10, I only had just over an hour left. It wasn’t enough time. I ran to the automatic doors at such a speed that I crashed through the glass. I ran out to the traffic and a car slammed down on the brakes to avoid hitting me. I ignored the angry driver, throwing him out the car and speeding off. I slammed on the accelerator. I needed more time I needed more time more time more time time time!
I could see the house on the horizon and looked to the cars inner clock, it was 9.19. I slammed on the brakes and the car started to roll. I clambered out onto my lawn. The pain was unbearable; I was hanging on by a thread crawling towards my front door. My vision started to blur, with tears or pain I don’t know. I stretched out my hand to the door. Pleading for them to open the door for me.
However it all went to black, for the last, time.