Short Horror Fiction Story |
As Abigail ran down the long hallway, she could feel her heart pounding in her throat. It was keeping time with an unseen ticking clock. No matter which direction she ran, the ticking only got louder and faster. The hallway felt like it was spinning, and it was getting hotter by the second. As she neared the end of the corridor, she saw the source of the noise and of all of her fears. A grandfather clock placed at the end of the hall loomed down like a harbinger of impending doom. The hands on the clock were spinning ever faster, and an almost palpable menacing was emanating from its casing. Abigail could no longer breathe. She turned to run, but was frozen in place. The ticking grew louder and faster. Just when she felt she was on the verge of dying, Abigail awoke in her bed screaming and covered with sweat. It was the fourth nightmare in as many nights. Every night since the carnival, Abigail has had the same dream. And it was all because of that stupid Gypsy. A few days ago, Abby, as her parents and friends called her, was a happy go lucky 12 year old girl. That is, until she met the Gypsy woman. It was the first year Abby was allowed to go to the carnival on her own and she was thrilled. Her mom gave her ten dollars to spend, and for the first time in her short life, Abby felt like an adult. Rounding a corner after entering the carnival, Abby saw a small tent with a sign that read "Fortune Teller". In the middle of the two words was a looming eye that seemed to follow her as she walked by. Before Abby realized it, she had turned around and went straight in the front of the tent. There was little light inside, but a voice called to her from the gloom in a thick accent. "Have a seat, my child." Abby felt like she was in a dream. She obeyed, taking a seat across from what looked like one of those crystal balls from the movies. The Gypsy sat on the other side of the crystal. "Give me your hand, child." And Abby did. A small electric shock passed from the old woman's hand to her own. The old woman's eyes rolled into the back of her head and she was silent for a long moment. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper she said "Your life is in terrible danger." The Gypsy's face turned an alabaster white. "I hear a clock ticking. I see it's pendulum swing. You must not let this clock catch you! Your life depends upon this, my child." With that, the old woman got up and hurried out of the tent. Abby spent most of the rest of the day wandering around the carnival in a daze. What had the Gypsy lady meant? Surely a clock wasn't going to chase her down and kill her. This wasn't the movies. But she could not help but believe the old woman. Something about her face as she was telling her fortune made Abby know it was not an act. Her hand had literally trembled as it held on to Abby's. But what she said didn't make any sense! At dusk she made her way home. That night marked the first in her series of nightmares, and they only got worse with time. After awakening from her latest nightmare Abby decided to take a walk to clear her head. She walked aimlessly through town for a bit, finally coming to a museum located downtown. This was one of Abby's favorite places to go. She climbed the steps of the museum and walked in, all but forgetting about her dreams for a while. The air conditioned air felt cool against her skin as she moved to all of her favorite exhibits. Towards the back of the museum was a roped off area that looked foreign to Abby. A curtain was placed in front of what looked to be a new exhibit. Without thinking, Abby walked closer and moved the curtain slightly so she could look inside. Behind the curtain stood an old grandfather clock, much like the one from her dreams. Abby felt the blood drain from her face. She backed away slowly and turned to run. She could feel her heart pounding, but in her mind it was the ticking of the clock. She ran as fast as she could for the front door, sure she wasn't going to make it out of the museum alive. She ran full speed into the door causing it to swing wildly on its hinges. The sun was blinding. Abby stood for a long time on the steps, trying to catch her breath and shaking. After regaining most of her composure she started to laugh at herself. "What a dope I am", she thought. "Running like a little kid from a stupid clock!" Stupid Gypsy scared her to death! Abby climbed down the steps of the museum. She was starving! Across the street she saw the hot dog vendor and suddenly nothing seemed more appealing. She stepped out into the street and as she did she turned her head right, just in time to see the van come barreling down the road. The front of the van made a sickening noise as it made contact with her body. The impact sent her flying fifteen feet into the air, and she landed back on the sidewalk face up in a pool of blood. Abby's final vision as the darkness overcame her was of the van speeding away. The Gypsy had been right after all. Later that evening at the police station, the hot dog vendor sat down at a desk with the detective. "You saw the whole thing?" "Yes sir. The van was speeding down Main St. The little girl didn't see him. He hit her and didn't even slow down." "Did you get a look at the license plate?", asked the detective. "No sir. He was really moving and it all happened so fast. I did get a good look at the van though. It was one of those blue delivery vans. 'Round the Clock Shipping I think they're called. You know, the ones with the big grandfather clocks on the side?" |