Original Fic: Clock Story
Robert Mark, Private Mechanic of Metal & Gears, held up a lantern over his head and grimaced as he peered at the inner-workings of the Giant, 200 year old, (and 200 year neglected) Olde Clock Tower, that rose above the city's old Town Hall, now a museum. The museum was paying him to make it work again. It had stopped working about fifty years ago, and no one had come here to oil the gears, clean it, or clear off the five inch dust that had collected everywhere in the small room at the top of the tower that housed the clock's mechanism. He winced at the rust collected on the gears. Five of the gears needed replacing, and every one of them needed oiling. Robert was glad that he had thought to rig a pulley system before hand. He had checked out the clock tower a few weeks before and had already ordered the parts.
Robert looked down into the dark hole of the center of the clock tower. The precarious climb up to the top was not quite as bad as last time. This time he knew where to hold, and where everything is. It could have been worse anyway. Although the railings were made out of rusting iron and crumbled at his touch, the steps themselves were safe, solid (albeit a bit eroded) stone. Really, it wasn't all that intimidating at all, although the atmosphere was a little creepy. (And there were a few steps missing.) At least up here, the giant clock face filtered light through into the room, casting sunlight on the old gears. It's pearly gleam brightened the room.
Okay, to work. Robert inspected the gears carefully. In this case, the best thing to do was to remove the rusted gears first. And the axles... He lightly brushed a finger along the rough surface of the axle. The clock had already stopped, but it had stopped because the gears had gotten stuck. Robert tapped a finger against his chin thoughtfully. There had to be a switch somewhere that stopped the clock.... there! He went over to the switch and attempted to turn it. It would not budge. Of course. The clock *had* been neglected for fifty years. The mechanic quickly oiled the hinge of the switch, and used a wrench to grip it as he pulled it upwards. With a click, the mechanism of the clock stopped straining against the impossible gears, and stopped.
Tired from his exertion, Robert panted a little, then went over to the gears. He oiled the gears and the axle that he was about to remove, and set a few metal pipes to hold the mechanisms in place as he went to remove the large central gear that had rusted so badly, it was falling apart. Robert gripped the gear and pulled. He hadn't removed it further than one inch when his body froze up for no apparent reason. Then the clock suddenly, somehow started working.
Only it was going the wrong way.
The gears turned, the huge mechanisms moved and Robert struggled with the main gear as the clock slowly operated, hands moving backwards at a slow pace, then faster. And faster, and faster. For some reason the gear he was tugging remained unmoving, even as all the other mechanics of the clock moved, a giant mechanical being, all working together, all moving, faster and faster, backwards and backwards and backwards.
He tugged and tugged but it would not budge. And his strength was getting weaker, so much more weaker... Were the gears always that big? The clock face seemed to loom up at him, filling his sky. He couldn't even fit his arms around the gear anymore, and resorted to tugging at one notch on the huge gear. Robert took a step back and tripped over his pants. Huh, since when were they so loose? He recalled that when he bought them they fit perfectly. He was with his wife...
He looked to his right to see a kid, reflected in the black surface of a recently oiled gear. Whatever was a kid doing here? Odd. The kid looked exactly like him, when he was six, six and happy and crazy and exciting, playing tag with his best buddy Dave- laughing and jumping around and being dragons, and teasing Betty... wow, he hadn't thought of Dave in years. How was he? Where was he? Last they saw each other, he was in that town in Oklahoma, with his cousin, his cousin and they were... and they were... what were they doing? And Betty! Betty, Betty who had disappeared after elementary. What was she doing now? Where was she? What was her job?
All these thoughts ran through Robert's mind as he stared at the kid, this kid who looked just like him when he was little, tugging desperately at a gear, in a pair of pants and shirt much too big for him, the same shirt that Robert was wearing. Robert collected his wits, and snapped out of it. "What are you doing here?" he asked concernedly. He started in shock. His voice was not his own! Out of his mouth had come the voice of a six year old- a child's voice! "What are you doing here?" Robert asked again, faltering at the sound of his own voice.
The kid's mouth moved with his, but nothing came out of the kid's mouth. Robert stared, and realized he was talking to his own reflection. This kid, was him. He was six. He was... somehow.... getting younger, and younger and younger. Robert let go of the gear slowly and looked down at his shrinking hands, as the clock hands spun backwards and the gears turned and creaked against each other.
And as the hands of the clock moved backward rapidly, his mind swam with memories that had no right to be there, and thoughts simultaneously of a 30 year old and a child....
10
This wasn't possible, he couldn't be turning into
9
Where was he anyway? At this big place. This huge unreal place inside the clock... It's like an adventure! The greatest adventure ever!
8
Robert smiled a big grin. He had to tell Dave. And they'd play, and it'd be their secret hideout just the two of them, and they'd rule the world
7
Lucia, what would Lucia think? They were going to be engaged... He could see her now, her weeping, sobbing... Don't cry Luci- Don't cry-
6
Who was Lucia?
5
This place was so big...
4
Mom, Mommy... where's Mommy? Where's Daddy...?
3
I'm scared... Mommy... Daddy... I'm- I'm in this big place... all alone....
2
So bright...
1
The wrench lay on the floor next to the crying baby lying on the mass of dirty, oil stained clothes at the top of the clock tower. The gears slowly came to a grinding stop as the cries of the small baby echoed through the empty tower.
An hour later they found the baby in the Clock Tower, and sent the baby boy off to the orphanage. They found no trace of the engineer they had hired. The story was that he had disappeared, left town, was a crook. None were correct. The museum hired another engineer, who said that the clock tower was beyond repair. The several others they hired after that simply could not get the clock tower working again. It had come to a permanent stop.
The Legend of the Baby in the Olde Clock Tower was added to the strange assortment of stories about the tower, and faded into the mists of fairy tales.
The Clock Tower itself was abandoned as useless for another fifty years, then converted into a fancy hotel, using the legends and the tower as advertisements and promotion, and to charge a high price.
The hotel ran out of business, due to many strange incidents.
And once again, the Clock Tower was abandoned.
On certain nights, people say they can hear its ceaseless ticking, going backwards in time, to a special time. And they say never to go near, for what happened to him could happen to you.