Hard Tick -

It was his own voice, counting down the seconds he had left.

Most clocks whispered, a polite tick-tock that faded into the background of a home. But this clock, inherited from a great-uncle he’d never met, demanded attention. Every sixty seconds, the house held its breath for the minute hand to jump, a sound like a hammer hitting an anvil. hard tick

Elias had tried to stop it once. He’d opened the glass casing, intent on stilling the heavy brass pendulum. But the moment his fingers brushed the metal, the room grew cold. The light from the window didn’t just dim; it curdled, turning a bruised, sickly purple. The tick slowed, growing even heavier, until it sounded like a slow, beating heart. Thump. Thump. Thump. It was his own voice, counting down the seconds he had left

Behind the clock face, where the pendulum should have been swinging, was a narrow, dark staircase leading down into the floor. And from the darkness below, he heard it: a soft, human-sounding tick . Every sixty seconds, the house held its breath