Chapter 7: The Clockmaker's Curse
1102 Words
The Row didn’t wait.
The four of them had barely stepped out of the hollow house before the cobblestones shifted underfoot, forming a twisting new path. The lamps along the way flared in sequence, like a trail of breadcrumbs.
“Okay,” Finn said, eyeing the glowing path warily. “Who votes we ignore the creepy lights and just… sit here eating imaginary pizza until the Row gives up?”
Carla shot him a look. “Do you ever take anything seriously?”
“Of course I do,” Finn replied. “I take naps very seriously. Also snacks. Oh—and survival. Top of the list.”
Mia let out a nervous laugh, the glow in her eyes soft. “You’ll have to settle for snacks later. Something tells me the Row won’t let us rest.”
Theo, already scribbling in his journal, muttered, “The lights form a directional sequence. Like a current. They want us to follow.”
“Correction,” Finn said. “They want to trap us. Subtle difference.”
Still, they followed.
The glowing path twisted between crooked shops and shuttered windows until it ended at a peculiar building. Its facade was covered in enormous clock faces, each ticking at different speeds—some too fast, some too slow. The hands jerked unnaturally, skipping seconds, sometimes spinning wildly.
Carla frowned. “This doesn’t look promising.”
Finn tilted his head. “I dunno, I kinda like it. If we’re gonna get eaten by a haunted house, might as well be a stylish one.”
The crescent key warmed in Carla’s pocket. She pulled it out, and it glowed brighter the closer she stepped to the door.
Theo’s eyes widened. “Another soul.”
The heavy clockwork door creaked open on its own, gears grinding.
Inside, the air was thick with the smell of oil and iron. Hundreds of clocks lined the walls—cuckoo clocks, grandfather clocks, pocket watches dangling from chains. All ticking out of sync. The sound was maddening.
And at the center of the room stood a figure.
A man hunched over a massive brass clock, his hands moving feverishly as he twisted gears and turned wrenches. His face was gaunt, his eyes glowing faintly like Elias’s had. He muttered under his breath, “Just a little longer… just one more turn… must fix it… must fix it…”
Mia whispered, “Another trapped soul.”
The man’s head jerked up, his eyes wild. “Who are you? Why are you in my workshop?”
Carla stepped forward carefully. “We’re here to help.”
He laughed bitterly. “Help? No one helps. Time doesn’t help. Time betrays. Always slipping away.” His hands tightened around the wrench until his knuckles went white.
Theo whispered, “He’s stuck in a loop. Obsession with fixing time. The Row twisted him.”
The man suddenly slammed the wrench onto the clock, sparks flying. “The lantern said someone would come. But you’re too late. Always too late!”
The clocks around the room began to rattle violently. One by one, their glass faces shattered, gears spilling out onto the floor.
“Uh,” Finn said, backing up. “I don’t suppose this is just… bad clock maintenance?”
The broken gears rose into the air, spinning like blades, whirling toward them.
Carla shoved Mia behind her. “Move!”
Theo ducked as a gear whizzed past his head and embedded itself in the wall with a thunk. “They’re acting like weapons!”
“Really?” Finn shouted as he grabbed a fallen clock face and used it as a shield. “Thanks for the heads-up, professor obvious!”
Mia’s glow brightened, her voice trembling. “Wait—I can feel him. The soul. He’s not evil. He’s… hurting. The Row is making him fight.”
Carla clenched her jaw, dodging another flying gear. “Then how do we break through?”
The crescent key pulsed in her hand. It was almost burning.
Theo’s eyes widened. “The key—it reacts when she’s near the lanterns. There must be one here, hidden.”
“Fan out!” Carla barked.
They scattered, dodging spinning blades and collapsing clocks. Finn darted left, shouting over the chaos. “Anyone else feel like we’re trapped inside a giant, very angry grandfather clock?”
“Less commentary, more searching!” Carla shouted back.
Mia’s glow flickered as she closed her eyes. “I can sense it… the lantern… it’s beneath the clock he’s working on.”
Carla sprinted toward the center. The man snarled, swinging the massive brass clock at her like it weighed nothing. She barely rolled aside in time.
“Mia! Distract him!” Carla yelled.
Mia’s eyes glowed brighter. She called out, her voice trembling but firm. “You’re not broken! You’re not too late!”
The man froze for a fraction of a second, confusion flickering across his face. “Not… too late?”
That was all the opening Carla needed. She slid the key into the base of the clock. It turned on its own, a golden pulse bursting outward.
The clocks all around the room went silent. Every broken gear dropped to the floor. The hunched man fell to his knees, the glow fading from his eyes.
When he looked up, tears streamed down his face. “It’s quiet… finally quiet.” His voice broke. “Thank you.”
And then he vanished—just like Elias had—leaving only the faint outline of a lantern glowing at the base of the clock.
The lantern dimmed, then extinguished itself.
The silence was deafening.
Finn finally let out a breath. “Well. That was… traumatic. Anyone else vote we don’t mess with haunted clockmakers again?”
Theo’s hands shook as he scribbled in his journal. “That’s two souls freed. But the Lantern Man was right—the Row’s resistance is escalating. The attacks are stronger. More dangerous.”
Carla clenched the key. Its glow was brighter now, but it felt heavier in her hand. “And we’ve got a lot more souls to go.”
Mia touched her arm gently. “At least we’re together.”
Finn groaned. “Yay, friendship. Somebody remind me why I didn’t just stay home and binge-watch shows instead of risking decapitation by flying gears?”
Carla smirked despite herself. “Because you’d miss me.”
He paused. “…Yeah, fair point.”
For just a moment, they all laughed. But when the Row’s lamps flickered again outside, they knew the next trial wouldn’t be so forgiving.
- Writer
