The Friends The Grief
Prologue
"Love!" Her mother shouted her name, the sound of her voice cushioned by two doors separating them.
Love Code groaned quietly, grabbing a long fluffy towel she, still dripping, stepped out of her shower and opened the bathroom door.
"What?!" She shouted back and began to rub the wetness out of her red and pink hair.
"You better stopped playing already, you got classes tomorrow!"
Groaning again, this time audible for her mother, she dried her hands and arms and walked to her wardrobe. Opening the lowest drawer she pulled out a fresh set of matching black underwear and socks throwing them onto her bed.
"My raid ended half an hour ago!" She rolled her eyes, drying her shoulders and soft b-cup now. "I just came out of the shower."
'And I'm not twelve anymore...' She hissed mentally.
There were a few seconds of silence before she heard her mother move away from the door. "And stop reading porn all night!" She faintly heard her calling from down below.
"Mom!" She shouted back, more annoyed than embarrassed, unlocking and opening her door, the towel now brushing over her back and the rest of her lower body. "They aren't porn! They are eroti-" She looked to her left and saw her fourteen year old brother standing in the hallway, a toothbrush in his mouth, looking at her with widened eyes. With a wink and a giggle she stepped back in and slammed the door shut, locking it again.
Walking back to her bed she sat down, drying her legs and feet before stepping back to her bathroom and throwing the towel onto a pile.
Putting on her underwear she stepped in front of the mirror on her wardrobe and looked at herself. More out of routine than anything else.
She had always been quite happy with her body, especially her color scheme, her skin a beautiful hue of pink which was lovingly described as 'cotton candy pink' with bright yellow eyes and her aforementioned red and pink hair, which she was tying into a ponytail right now. Something that made her even happier was her incapability to gain weight. No matter what or how much she ate she could always keep her slim figure. She smiled as her eyes fell onto the tattoo right beneath her left collarbone she had gotten last year during a weekend with her friends. It was a black Y-Case controller with pink hearts for analog sticks that for whatever reason had felt just perfect. She giggled as she remembered what a friend of hers had said: "That's how your spirit animal looks."
Her smile faded a little bit as she remembered the huge fight she had with her parents as she came home and gloated with it. But they couldn't really do anything against it anymore. She had been eighteen at the time and pretty independent, she had even paid it herself.
Looking at the small clock on her nightstand, which was filled with a ton of RPG games, broken controller and other video game focused objects, told her that it was almost half past ten
Climbing onto her bed she wonkily walked to the small, but filled to the brim, bookcase that was over it.
Her eyes wandered over the title of the different, more or less, raunchy and risqué novels, dōjinshi manga, games and other stuff that had a place on her 'NSFWB (Not Safe for wittle brothers)-shelf'. Furrowing her brows she, now of all times, noticed that her entire life she had always been a sucker for romance, erotic and games, or a combination of these three.
'Now that I think about it...' She tilted her head, biting her lower lip softly. 'I was never shy or embarrassed if it came to sex.' A clean indicator for her that she was different in that regard had been during sex ed a few years ago, she had been... twelve? Thirteen?
Her teacher had made one of those stupid letterboxes where everyone could throw in anonymous questions. She had, as naive as she had been, ignored that and had signed her question. The next day the teacher had read her question, and called her out, but she hadn't felt embarrassed, quite the contrary, she had felt a sense of pride.
Shaking her head and interrupting the flow of memories, she focused on the bookcase again. Pulling out a thumb thick book, her favorite, she sat down. Grabbing the remote for her stereo she switched it on, jumping slightly as the news blared out of the speakers, lowering the volume slightly she began to listen.
"In other news." The announcer's voice changed a little bit. "A friend of the deceased Twilight Sparkle, Sunset Shimmer, has gone missing. After the tragic accident in Canterlot a few days ago, in which miss Sparkle was run over by a truck, the other six girls were put in counseling. Miss Shimmer had shut herself in and as of later today, seems to have gone missing. Her friends were interviewed and claim 'yesterday she had gone home to tell Twilight's friends, we haven't seen her since'. Police and volunteers are questioning the neighborhood and are searching for the girl right now." The voice of the announcer changed yet again. "Now to much happier news and tomorrow's weather fore-"
"Damn... poor girl." Love whispered as she stalled the radio, setting her stereo to MP3 output. Lowering the volume to one and setting the sleep timer to one hour and the music to single repeat she typed thirty-seven in and got her favorite song to read to, Alias by In Blaze. Pulling her blanket up to her chin she looked at the title that managed to make her heart flutter every time she read it.
''Those Cold Days in Canterlot' by Mo. Lestia' She smiled, biting her lower lip, as she opened the bookmarked section, her favorite part, and began to read.
<---------->
Azalea Spring-Bloom, an art professor, was sitting on her balcony surrounded by an ocean of withering flowers, which added another reason why she was crying. She had grown these flowers by herself and the flowers had survived much, much longer than they were supposed to, the oldest of her flowers, an azalea was over twenty years old and not once even lost a single leaf. If the flowers were healthy then she was happy and healthy, if the flowers were sick then she as well felt sick. It was a weird connection she seemed to share with her flowers.
Now the flowers, even her oldest azalea, were surrounding her with hanging heads, their leaves brown and dried up. They were sharing her sadness.
On the small table in front of her was the picture of the one she was mourning, her... she wasn't even sure what he was for her. He had been strong and funny, had shared her love for birds and was astounded by her flowers.
They had traveled the continent together. He had showed her so many things and now he was gone, ripped out of her life.
Unable to contain her sobs she looked up to the crescent moon, an endless stream of tears rolling down her cheeks and even this beautiful scenery couldn't help her broken heart.
"Oh Crescent..." She cried. "Why Crescent... It's just not fair..."
And she cried deep into the night, falling asleep on her balcony on this warm summer night.
<---------->
Sunset had barely gotten back home, she was literally standing in front of her door, as the book that connected her to Equestria had started vibrating. With a heavy sigh she took off her backpack, pulling the book out, she dropped the now empty bag. Opening it, she began reading the quickly written lines.
"Sunset Shimmer, I'm very sorry to bother you again but Luna and I were noted that something has escaped Tartarus. Something that wasn't from this world to begin with. We tried to track it down but..."
Sunset could almost hear, no feel, the heavy sigh that followed this sentence.
"It managed to slip through the portal. It's on earth and it's attracted to negative emotions. What's even worse is that it creates a realm based on those emotions and fears, dispelling any magic. I want you to try and-"
Closing the book, Sunset opened her door, entering her home. She had no time for...
She dropped the book unceremoniously as she saw the thick fog that was creeping through her home as well as the metallic screeching of a valve that was reaching her ears.
"Well ain't that fucking great?" She murmured.
The door slammed shut behind her.
<---------->
It was cold, no freezing, and dark.
She could barely feel her fingers and toes.
Confused she looked down and saw her hands grasping a long knife, blood dripping from it's tip, an amber-skinned girl with read and yellow hair lying in front of her, her empty turquoise eyes staring at the ceiling, blood weakly gushing from a stab wound in her throat.
Gasping she dropped the knife and looked up.
The world around her was dark and grimy, coated with rust and blood. She could hear loud, moaning screams echoing through the hallways. It was impossible for her to tell though if they were screams of pleasure or terror.
She had to go. She didn't know why she had that feeling or where she had to go to. All she knew was that she had to leave, it was too late and she wasn't supposed to be here anymore. She...
"Love?"
She heard a voice calling her name and the world began to shake as a heavy scratching of metal on metal stung in her ears.
"Love Code."
The voice called again. It had gotten a little sterner but also had a slight lilting tone now. The world around her crumbled away.
"Miss Code!"
Stuck in School - Love Code
Stuck in School
"Miss Code!" Someone shouted her name.
"Huh?" Love gasped, looking up from her boring math book, staring at her homeroom teacher, miss Spring-Bloom.
"Class is over." She pointed with her thumb behind her. "You can leave now."
"Oh, right." She blushed a little. She had been so caught up in her own day-dreams that she had forgotten the time.
'Day-dream?' She furrowed her brows, closing her eyes in thought. A few seconds later she shook her head. 'What did I dream about?'
Ignoring that for now she closed her book and dumped it into her bag, looking at the emptiness around her. The other students were already gone, she could even barely hear them in the hallway. Standing up she yawned and stretched herself, her back giving of satisfying pops, before rubbing her left shoulder, especially her collarbone and neck.
"My goodness gracious." Miss Bloom looked at her student. "Was today that boring?"
"Nah." Love answered with a shrug. "I don't know... I just feel tired."
Shaking her head, miss Bloom chuckled softly, although it sounded forced. "I apologize that I couldn't make this any more exiting."
"It's fine." She answered, putting on her satchel.
Walking towards the desk of her teacher she noticed, and not for the first time the past few days, the dark rings around her magenta eyes. "Hey.... Azalea." She stopped in front of the desk, addressing her turquoise teacher as the friend she was. "You... okay?"
Miss Bloom, Azalea, looked up to her student and, after school hours, friend. "I... yes. Much better, thank you."
"You sure?" Love raised a brow, her voice filled with worry. "The rings around your eyes say otherwise."
"Yes Love." She stated. "I'm fine, really."
Wincing, Love took a step back, looking at her friend with a hurt mien.
"Look... I'm sorry." Azalea's expression softened, if not by much. "I... I'll manage, okay?"
"Okay..." She shrugged, turning away she walked towards the open door. Midway she turned around, walking backwards. "You have my number... just call me if you need someone to talk to, okay?"
Azalea smiled, an honest smile. "Yeah, I will. Thank you Love."
"You're quite welcome." Turning back again she left the room, walking through the, weirdly enough, now empty hallways of Manehattan's smallest college.
'I don't believe her.' She bit her lower lip, looking over her shoulder to the open class room door. 'The death of her friend hit her too hard.'
Last week Azalea's friend, Love didn't even know his name, had died in a car crash. It had been quite a shock for the whole class to hear that. Miss Bloom was one of the nicest teachers in this college, always working hard for and with her students to help them. She was warm and caring and always smiling.
Things had changed since his death.
Azalea had become much sterner, even going as far as ignoring her students or even shouting at them. And more than once Love and a few other girls had found her crying in the bathrooms.
Love sighed, kneading her shoulder and neck again. The last few days had been horrible. She was never a huge fan of college, at first she didn't want to go anyway, but her parents had forced her, telling her to attend or they would kick her out, she was lucky enough to live close to college so she didn't need to live in the dorms, or, which was much worse, sell her games.
She never liked college but there always had been Azalea, someone that made the whole thing bearable.
But now, after the death of Azalea's friend... She wasn't too sure if she could bear this any longer. To see her friend hurting like that.
She had tried. A few times that Love had visited Azalea she was send away. But then there was that one time Azalea had actually let her in. The two had barely managed to reach the living room before Azalea had collapsed into a wailing pile. Love had spent her entire evening and night in Azalea's cramped and sobbing embrace.
'Once I'm home I will call her.' She groaned at the rising pain in her shoulder and neck. 'But first I will take a nice hot shower.' The cramp in her shoulder was really annoying the shit out of her. 'Great...' She groaned annoyed as the pain in her neck began to creep higher and quickly turned into a throbbing headache followed by a high pitched humming in her ear.
The door right in front of her opened fast.
Too fast.
Love winced.
Slowly, oh so very slowly, she opened her eyes, hissing at the weak flickering light that was blinding her as well as the massive pain in her forehead that told her that the door had hit her, hard.
"Mhh..." She murmured. "Fuuuck..." Reaching up, she found a thick piece of cloth stuck to her head, right over her left eye. Jolting up she reached up with her other hand to confirm the feeling, and indeed there was something stuck to her head, something that felt suspiciously like a bandage.
'Ain't that friggin great?' She groaned. 'I knew that something bad was going to happen. The whole week was feeling weird.' Groaning a little more she looked up to the clock and saw...
"Huh?" She narrowed her eyes. 'Did the hit damage my eyes?'
The clock was going backwards.
Shaking her head, she ignored the broken clock for now, sure that it wasn't showing the exact time anyway.
"Hello?" She called into the room. "Anybody there?"
Nothing.
Getting out of bed she was surprised that aside from a headache she was feeling fine. Walking around the screen she gasped.
Someone had emptied her bag, scattering her belongings on the tiled floor.
'Okay... what the fuck?' She was starting to get annoyed. Which was not good considering her headache. "Hey?!" She called into the room. "Anyone here?!"
Again no answer.
Ignoring that for now she lowered herself to pick up her belongings-
-but jolted back up.
She shuddered and the pain in her shoulder returned. Something felt weird, as if she was being watched.
"Hello?" She called out again, a little quieter this time, looking through the empty infirmary.
And then it hit her.
Empty infirmary.
She didn't know how late it exactly was but no matter the time, if there was an injured person in here then somebody had to be here, a nurse or doc, a teacher, maybe even her parents.
But she was all alone.
Quickly lowering herself again she picked up her belongings as fast as possible, stuffing them into her bag. Standing up she turned to the exit of the infirmary-
-and stopped mid step.
There was a big mirror on the door, which hadn't been there the last time she was here, showing a clean reflection of herself, and she felt her eyes widen.
Carefully stepping closer to the mirror she looked at herself, at the dried blood that was covering her face, sticking in her hair and the darkened bandage that was loosely sticking to her head. Furrowing her brows she reached up to the bandage-
- and saw it crumbling away under her touch, it and the blood, revealing the smooth, unhurt, skin beneath it.
Gasping, her eyes widening, she stepped away from the mirror and-
-shrieked loud as something smashed through the door, shattering the mirror into thousand pieces.
"What the fuck is going on?" She cried into the empty room, fear reflecting in her voice.
After a few moments of silence she gulped, carefully stepping closer to the door, the shards of the mirror cracking beneath her feet, she looked at the object that was protruding out of it. It was a long, rectangular and smooth metal object.
'A pipe?' She looked closer. 'No, it's hollow but has the wrong form...' She furrowed her brows, searching her memory if she ever had seen something comparable. 'Maybe a table-leg?'
Gulping again, she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, listening for any sounds on the other side. Taking a deep breath she turned the knob, opening it.
Looking out into the hallway she immediately noticed that there was something wrong. The air felt heavy, the entire atmosphere felt... grim, it was incredibly dark and she could see fog creeping through the hallway.
"What the..." She whispered, looking at the door and noticed that she was correct. It indeed seemed to be a steely table-leg that was protruding out of the splintered wood. It was about 2 feet long and ended in a small 2x4 inches sharp-edged plate with holes for screws in it. And pierced by the leg, sticking to the splinters of the door, was a sheet of paper with a strange symbol on it. The symbol consisted of multiple black rings, an outer ring with three smaller rings inside and weird runes around them.
Ripping off the paper she looked at the symbol and noticed a small arrow in it's corner. Turning the paper she saw a small message written in black ink.
Not every set of stairs has to lead up or down and not every painting has to hang on a wall.
Those one true stairs are between up and down and found on the floor, surrounded by azaleas,
and they lie in the center of the art.
She looked at the message with a puzzled look. "What?" She asked quietly and noticed another arrow in the corner. Turning the paper again she gasped, dropping it as the pain in her shoulder became a loud screeching.
The symbol had vanished. In it's place was now a message smeared in what seemed to be dried blood.
Drip, drop.
Drip, drop it goes.
More and more of it escapes.
Watch out or it's yours.
Hissing and wincing in pain she grabbed her shoulder, furrowing her brows she-
-felt something hit her back, pushing her out of the infirmary, followed by the sound of something metallic clattering over the floor as the door closed.
Rolling onto her back she looked up and shrieked, the sound echoing through the hallway.
Something was standing over her, it's face empty, except for a symbol that seemed to be branded into it. It's body was completely naked and paper white. Scurrying backwards, Love stood up looking at the creature. It was humanoid, and apparently female, it's bare breasts bouncing softly as it turned towards Love, tilting it's head.
The creature took a step forward, jerky and alien, which reminded her of a marionette. And the very same moment she saw the almost invisible red strings that were attached to it's appendages, moving it.
It took another step forward, raising it's arm to swipe at her again.
Ducking away, the pain in her shoulder becoming almost unbearable, she dodged the attack and in a single motion she stood up again and shoved the creature away, it's skin smooth and soft like a humans, making it tumble over, it's appendages splayed in an unnatural fashion. Stepping away from it she turned around ready to run-
-but stopped as she saw another one in front of her, it's arm already raised.
She felt the hit connecting with her face. This time she managed to stay on her legs though, rubbing her cheek she felt the first branches of panic beginning to wrap around her mind. She looked over her shoulder and saw the first creature already getting back on it's feet.
And then her eyes fell on the table-leg lying on the ground behind it.
Turning back she found another slap connecting with her face. Ignoring the pain for now she pushed the one in front of her away, making it fall over as well and turned around. The one behind her was almost ready to attack again, straightening it's appendages.
Ducking and running around it she slipped, landing on her belly next to the table-leg.
She felt something grab her shoulder, turning her around she saw the puppet lower itself onto her, sitting on her, pinning her down, she felt it's hands clasp around her neck.
Love gasped as she felt it's cold hands beginning to strangle the live out of her and even though she was barely two seconds in she already felt incredibly weakened, the pain in her shoulder now becoming numbing. Wrapping her hands around the wrists of the doll she tried to get it's hands away from her neck.
And to her big surprise it worked, with barely any fight she pulled the dolls hands away from her before punching it's face, making it fall over and off of her. Scurrying backwards she sat up, coughing softly, and her eyes fell onto the table-leg again.
Without any hesitation she wrapped her hand around the lower end.
The doll was still lying on the floor, twitching, and without any second thoughts she raised her new weapon, grabbing it with both hands, and made it crash down onto the dolls chest, the sharp-edged end giving off a soft thunk as it connected.
The doll was still moving and Love raised her "club" again, this time she swung for it's head, the symbol in it's face.
And with an earsplitting cracking the doll finally stopped moving.
Panting, and shaking, like crazy she looked at the creature she had just struck down with widened eyes, the table-leg sticking out of it's head.
And was hit by the second doll she had completely forgotten.
Crying out in pain she stumbled and fell on her butt, holding her cheek again.
The doll reached down, grabbing her by her neck and pulling her up. Dangling in the air Love felt the creatures grasp tightening. And just like before she immediately felt her strength fading away. Uselessly flailing she grabbed the dolls wrists, desperate for air.
But to her shock the dolls grip was like a vice. She had no chance of loosening it like this.
The lack of oxygen was becoming apparent. She felt her lungs beg for fresh air, she became lightheaded and even weaker. In a last desperate attempt she kicked at the dolls chest.
The dolls grasp stayed, even though it tumbled two steps backwards.
And Love felt the hilt of the table-leg, sticking out of the first puppet, brush against her shin.
A wave of adrenaline hit her and she kicked the doll again, this time at it's lower body.
Like before it's grip did not loosen up, but it bend a little bit, lowering Love, her feet connecting with the floor for about a second.
And this time she felt the hilt brush against her thigh.
It took her half a second to grab it and thanks to the dolls grip, as it straightened itself again, she managed to pull it out of the other body.
Feeling her eyes roll back into her head and the darkness closing in she raised the club weakly, she didn't even aim, she just let it crash down as hard as possible.
She landed on the floor, her club clattering over the floor. Taking a huge breath, a hand on her throat, coughing and wheezing, she looked up. Her attack had hit the dolls forehead, bending it inwards, killing it instantly.
Taking another deep breath, Love turned away and emptied her stomach onto the floor. Interrupted by coughs and desperate attempts at taking deep breaths she threw up over and over again.
After a few minutes of vomiting the churning in her stomach began to fade away and Love crawled away from the pool of bile, sitting against the cold steel of a locker she looked at the two dead dolls, softly rubbing her hurting neck.
'This has to be a dream...' Her mind was racing and she felt tears welling in her eyes.
'It's... just a bad dream.'
And then she cried as the pain in her shoulder began to subside.
Home Sick - Sunset Shimmer
Home Sick
Sunset was standing in front of a door that didn't exist a few days ago, the everlasting screeching of metal haunting her ears and the thick fog obscuring her vision.
A door in the back of her apartment surrounded by a huge red circle that was even partly drawn on the ceiling and floor, the entire room around the edges of the circle looked withered and old, the wallpaper crumbling away.
After the front door had closed behind her she had tried in vain to open it. After that she had tried to open her windows, but had found them as sealed, and unbreakable, as the door.
After that she had tried to call for help.
Nothing had helped, not banging her hands against the door, or kicking the walls. None of her neighbors had reacted to any of the sounds. It was as if the apartment had simply disappeared from everyone's mind.
Not long after she had heard a rumbling as if something big had fallen over, something that sounded suspiciously like her wardrobe.
Upon entering her bedroom she had noticed that it had indeed been her wardrobe. A door, made of rusted iron, was behind it, the wallpaper ripped away. And behind that door was the same small room she was standing in right now, looking at another door surrounded by a weird circle.
She was hesitating, biting her lower lip. The room was empty except for the door and a peculiar long case clock that was standing on the right. The clock had four hands. The second hand was stuck on the eleven, the hour and minute hand on twelve and something that looked like another second hand was stuck on three.
Wrapping her hand around the cold wooden knob she turned it-
-and found it as locked as the front door.
For whatever reason she felt relieved as the door remained closed. While it meant that she was stuck in here it would also mean that she was not forced to move into unknown territory, and she still wasn't sure what the monster that had escaped Tartarus was capable of.
She blinked.
"The book!" She mentally face palmed. Turning around she opened the door to her bedroom. Moving through it she ran through the rest of her apartment. Slowing down she stopped at her front door, the book was still lying in front of it.
Furrowing her brows, Sunset noticed that the fog seemed to stay away from the book, as if it was repelling it. Slowly walking closer she also noticed that it wasn't her book anymore. It had changed.
Picking it up and opening it she noticed the empty pages. Well 'empty' was an hyperbole. The pages were filled with dried drops of blood and ink. Flipping through the book Sunset looked at the pages and noticed that with every page the amount of droplets seemed to increase. Had the first few pages only some drops, the pages in the middle were almost entirely covered.
She stopped.
Looking up from the book she looked through her empty apartment, a shudder running down her spine.
Something had changed.
'The sound!' Her eyes widened. 'The screeching stopped.' She wasn't sure if it was a good or bad sign.
Looking back at the book she noticed that the blood and ink began to move erratically, forming lines written in both liquids.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The sound of four clock hands tick-tick-ticking away.
The first strikes two,
the second strikes eight,
the third, seeking balance, never strikes seven
and stops at three.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
Your time tick-tick-ticks until the fourth strikes twenty-two.
Furrowing her brows she looked at the weird puzzle.
And then she heard the soft ticking of a clock echoing through the apartment.
And with each tick a drop of blood appeared in the book!
Dropping the book Sunset turned around, running through her apartment and jumping over the broken wardrobe she opened the door to the hidden room.
She wasn't dumb. The puzzle in the book was definitely connected to the long case clock in this room. And if twenty-two meant what she thought it would mean than she only had two minutes to solve the puzzle!
The obnoxiously loud ticking disappeared, turning into a soft, almost soothing rhythmic tone. Stepping in front of the clock she noticed that the first second hand, the one which had rested on eleven before was now moving, and it was already past the three.
The door slammed shut, followed by the sound of it locking up and something very heavy that scraped over it.
She was trapped.
Something warm and wet landed on her shoulder.
"Huh?" Using her middle and ring finger she brushed over her shoulder. Something stuck to her fingers. A clear, scentless liquid.
Looking up-
-she screamed in terror, falling to her butt.
A huge mouth was protruding out of the ceiling, it's lips slightly opened and with each tick they opened a little bit further.
Standing up she stepped in front of the clock again, ignoring the drops of saliva that were falling on her she concentrated on the dial. The moving second hand had passed the five already.
"Okay Sunset, think!" She spoke to herself, panic in her voice. "What did it say?" The closed her eyes wrecking her brain, the infernal ticking disturbing her thought process.
"The first strikes two..." She looked at the dial. "Which is the first?"
The second hand passed the seven and now she could hear and feel the mouth over her begin to breathe. Literally breathing down her neck.
She began to tremble, her hands on the clock.
And then her eyes fell on her digital watch. While the dial was disturbed, jumping at random intervals, showing her a different time every time she still noticed something.
"Hour. Minute. Seconds." She whispered. "That's it!"
Reaching up she wrapped her thumb and index finger around the small hour hand, moving it to the right. She could hear the small cogs in the clock moving and at the same time something in the door began to rattle.
Stopping the hour hand on the two she heard the hand snap into place, a soft click escaping the clock, followed by a much louder metallic clunk of the door as the moving second hand reached the nine.
"Minute is second and second was." She murmured closing her eyes in thought again. "Eight!"
Wrapping her fingers around the much longer but thinner hand she moved it to the right again. While it may be quicker to go left she was scared to damage the clock. The hand reached it's destination snapping into place just like the hour hand before and-
The second hand reached eleven.
And the clock began to chime, the soft sound was echoing through the little room as the hands she had just put into place snapped back to twelve.
The mouth crashed down.
Crouching down she felt the hot breath rushing through her hair and over her skin as more saliva oozed out of it, drenching her in the sticky liquid as something long and slimy slithered it's way around her neck and down her chest, covering her in even more saliva.
The chiming stopped and Sunset felt the tongue move back into the mouth. Looking up she saw it looming over her again, this time though it was moving.
As if it was laughing.
Jolting back up she saw that the second hand had already reached one again. Drying her hands on her jeans as best as possible she moved the hour and minute hand again to their respective spot, both snapping into place, followed by another set of clunks in the door.
Looking at the other second hand, the one that was not counting down to feed her to a giant mouth in the ceiling, she closed her eyes again.
'The third...' She mused. 'Not striking seven and stops at three....' She opened her eyes again looking at the dial. 'Seeking balance.'
"What does it mean?" She whispered.
'Not striking seven, stopping at three...' She looked at the two numbers. 'That probably means that the correct answer is in-between those two numbers... seeking balance...' She closed her eyes thinking about what kind of 'balance' it could mean.
'Three and seven.' She felt her heart beat quicken and forced herself to not look at the doom-timer. 'If I try to balance that on a scale I would put five on each side... but it's not weight... it's time!'
She couldn't resist.
Opening one eye she looked at the timer and saw that the hand had already passed the four.
She had enough time. If it was wrong then she could just redo it, even if all the others would snap back to twelve. She had time.
Wrapping her fingers around the incredibly thin, but also sturdy needle, she moved the hand towards it's destination.
The hand reached five just as the other reached six.
The needled snapped into place, a massive clunk escaped the door.
Wrapping her hand around the knob she pushed.
The door stayed put.
She pulled.
The door stayed shut.
Tears began to well in her eyes.
The mouth over her began to giggle now, a high-pitched female laugh.
Turning to the clock she noticed that the second hand was moving much faster than before, than it's supposed to.
It reached eleven.
And an ear shattering screech made Sunset crawl down and cover her ears.
Until darkness closed in.
Taking her away.
