Time is a valuable thing, don't you ever forget that. Every second we spend with someone we love or like, we treasure and remember, hoping for it to not be the only time we are together. Minutes, days, months, years... It happens so fast, yet in the end, we don't realize we have something valuable until it's gone. I had something valuable... pretty... treasured. Now, it's gone. Dead. Buried. Collapsed like a house of cards. It's looking down on me from the skies, weeping.
Now, I only hear the clock ticking. Tick. Tick. Tick... Who is it ticking for? Why are they waiting? Why am I waiting? Hours. Days. I listen, trying to decipher why had it taken something I loved so much. Time is just a number, a number of hits in quick succession, that for some reason, is the reason everything gets older. It's clockwork mechanism pushes cogs and gears against each other. When they meet, they form a small planet worth of metal, clicking, ticking. As thousands of days go on, I forget, finding something valuable once again.
With her, I feel alive again. Just like old times. Ticking is not important anymore — she is. We laugh, tell stories, love... I haven't told her about my old love. Even though I have forgotten, it still hurts, waking me up late at night. I then look around, see her and recorgnise myself in a safe, warm place, drifting off once more. Next early morning, something happens — she is not well. I hear her coughing. Same coughing as I heard seven years ago. Time, why did you do this to me, again?
I come closer, listening to what she says. She says she's ill, but she doesn't know why or how. I have to get a doctor, quickly. But as I look back, I see her laying there, drifting away. Doctor would only tell me something I already know — she's dying. I don't want her to go. I won't allow time to betray me again, I won't allow it to take her away. I don't want to do this, but I have to. I want her to hold my hoof as she's drifting away. I want to take her far away, away from the torment of time. I stroke her cheek one last time and then, begin to channel her away. Putting a pillow over her head and counting silently, I lovingly tell her to not struggle. One, two, three, four... And she's gone. Time didn't take her. I did. I did...
I stare into her dead eyes, crying and then close them. I look at the mirror. What have I done? Taking a knife, I carve out her name into the hoof that did it, for she is now with me... not gone with the wave of time. I bleed, my skin now one with her name. Covering her name with a piece of cloth, I sit on the bathroom floor, patiently waiting deep into the night. Upon midnight dawning, I take my trusty companion, the knife that did her name. Hidden within the cloak of darkness, I drift off into the night, looking for someone to send away, being the mercy of time and the hater of the omnipotent gears and cogs.
Walking amongst the city that never sleeps, I find another mare, alone, walking amidst the darkness of the night. She doesn't see me and walks into a dead end, not seeing me closing in. She looks around, wishing to return back to the main street, but then she sees me, gazing upon her in my black robes. The mare takes a few steps back, but I approach her, just like a predator approaches his prey, grinning, with my knife held in one of my hooves. She screams for help, but apart from me, there's no one ele on the street. Her cries fall on deaf ears and she quickly notices that, panicking. Crying, she tells me that she doesn't want to die. She tells me she just wants to go back home.
I sadden, yet still approach her, going until she has her back against the wall. I tell her that she's pretty, young and not sick. Then, I tell her she could get sick, the time could take her way. She says something about a common cold, but all I hear is a clock ticking... one, two... I tell her that the clock will take her away, I tell her that no matter how hard she tries, it will happen. I then lunge at her, pinning her to the ground. I start crying, saying that I'm doing her a favor - for no one deserves to be taken by time and brought far, far away from those who they love. I then strike her with my knife, stabbing her with it. Crimson flows from where I stab, and tears start falling from her eyes.
I say I'm sorry. I say that there's no other way, for I don't want her to leave because the clock wanted her to. I don't want her to suffer through time and gasp for breath at the end. I hold one of her hooves as she leaves, succumbing to what I have done. I listen to her heartbeat and slowly hear it come down to a stop. She's gone. Time would take her too, but I prevented that. I helped her, doing her a favor. Leaving, I back away from the bloodied corpse I have created.
Looking in disgust, I shed a tear, my hooves painted with her blood. I run away into the night, filled with both regret and satisfaction. Someone who goes by peeks into the dead end I'm running from, paying little attention to the hoofprints I leave. I then hear him scream in terror, finding my work as I flee from the scene. My only goal now is to not be caught and do as many favours as I can, for no one deserves to feel the wrath of the clock. No one should endure the pain of slowly withering away...
"So, what do you know of this guy nicknamed 'Crimson' that's been added to the asylum?" uttered one of the staff members. "Is he dangerous?"
"Yep." answered the second one ."He took fourteen lives in a spree over the course of a month. Whole Manehattan is up on its hooves, and they're still looking for more corpses. Only Celestia knows how many lives he really took."
"Fourteen ponies?!" uttered the first one in shock. Murder is something so severe, almost everyone thinks the punishment for that is being sent to the moon. "There's just nothing to justifty what that... thing did!"
"Reportedly, he said he was 'saving' ponies from time by, umm... killing them, with just a single stab of a knife." the second staff member explained. "He also has an unhealthy obsession with time, but don't worry, we'll make sure he never leaves this place alive." The first one gulped.
"But... but we're supposed to bring him food and pills now!" said the first one in panic. "I'm not going alone. You can tell the guy who owns this place. Unless I get paid big time, I'm not crossing paths with that thing." The other staff member looked at him oddly, curious as to why his colleague was so disturbed by this particular patient.
"What exactly is your problem?" he asked in a serious tone. "'Tis just another day in the madhouse, give pils, sing a song to those more insane and then get paid. Both of us have been here for seven years now. Don't you dare tell me you're scared of one psycho in a house full of them." He waited a bit to let that sink in and then added "If you're such a scaredy pants, I'll go with you. That okay?" The first staff member inhaled deeply.
"Okay..." he uttered. "Let's get this done as soon as we can." Then, the both of them left the hallway and went into Crimson's roon.
Fools, naysayers... They knew not that I was coming for them. They should have tied me up when they had the chance. I heard them saying those things about me... false accusations. Have I not helped them? Before they approached, I felt useless behind bars, waiting... preying. Instead of clawing my way out, I played along. I answered their questionaire and drunk the water they gave me, yet not swallowing the pills and keeping them under my tongue. I did not expect visitors so soon, but they suprised me. However, instead of keeping only one side suprised, I took action, having one suprise in store, too.
One turned 'round and felt the razor I hid, cutting his artery and see him paint the monotonous white floor with fresh, crimson paint. He didn't have the time to scream, only struggle until it was over. After pulling it out failed, the second one turned to me and screamed in terror, wanting to escape what he called 'a bloodbath'. Unfortunate for him, I had the keys and my room was mistakenly equipped with a steel cup. Grinning, I bent it into a makeshift weapon and lunged at him. I striked relentlessly, fully ignoring that in the course of it, I also managed to cut myself, too. Just a tiny bit, nothing to be worried of. Unlike the previous one, he fought and he fought well, but once the blood drawn, his life started to tick away. Before he fell victim to me, he pressed a small button.
I heard the lovely sound of the alarm, taking the cup and cutting two more marks into my right hoof. Seeing their marks, I smile, as I freed two more souls from the wrath of time, never to see their loved ones die. One was grateful, the other was not. Did he really think an alarm could stop me from doing what was right and what was needed?
