Time ✔️

Chapter Five

Word Count: 1666

~Rosie

Two days wasn't long enough.

It turns out when you mention Time's name to anyone in the town, they give you an uneasy glance and avoid the conversation all together. No one, not even Marie supplied me with anymore information on Time, not matter how often I asked. I'm assuming either it's due to lack of knowledge, or out of fear.

Tonight is the last night I have before Time is coming to collect me. Marie muttered something at lunch about an older lady who claims to have once met Time herself, which was enough of a lead for me to go knocking on her door by dusk.

She didn't answer the door right away. It gave me enough time to consider whether this is foolish or not. No one else wants to speak about him, so why would she?

Moments later, she opened the door.

I'm startled for a second by the unflinching gaze of this woman, whose irises are grey and cloudy. I consider the fact that she might be blind, however, her gaze is too sharp and scrutinizing for her to not have sight. She looks me up and down, narrowing her eyes on me suspiciously. Something tells me not many people knock on this door.

"What do you want?" she mutters. Her voice is hoarse and aged, and rather aggressive. I flinch, forgetting why I'm here for a moment. Is this the woman who believes she met Time? I'm not sure I believe it just by looking at her.

"Sorry, I was just wondering if I could talk to you about the leader of this village," I ask, rubbing the back of my neck. I feel foolish for being here, now.

"You mean Time?"

I nod, watching her jaw clench for a moment, before she steps back, motioning for me to step inside. I hesitate for a moment, considering the fact I haven't had the best reception from her so far. However, this is my last chance to learn something, anything about the man who is taking me away tomorrow.

The inside of her house is small, crammed full of old furniture, bookshelves sagging with the weight of all her books. It smells dusty in here, although I'm not bothered. The woman motions for me to sit down on the small space of couch available. I do so quietly.

We exchange names with a mutter under our breaths. Hera, is her name, yet I'm doubtful it's real. She accepts my own fake name, not questioning anything.

"What do you want to know about him?"

"Anything really. It's just I've been curious recently, well, since I got off the train and I want to know all I can about the man whose village I'll be living in. Someone I work for mentioned you met him," I say tentatively, as she bustles round in a kitchen around the corner. I hear the sound of a kettle heating up.

Hera returns momentarily, teacup in hand. She hands it to me. Some murky liquid swirls around the rim, a scent wafting up smelling like some kind of wildflower. I put it down quickly without taking a sip.

"I did meet him, long ago, when I was a young girl around your age," Hera tells me, coming to sit on an old wooden chair opposite me.

At least she seems to have warmed up suddenly.

"What was he like?" I ask. I know what he's like, because unbelievably, I've met him. I might not have experienced him fully yet, but it was enough to frighten me for life. I'm curious to see if this woman has had the same experience as me with him. Maybe he was different all those years ago...

"He was dangerously charming, handsome and very manipulative. That's why everyone is so scared of him. He has no morals. No one can save him," she explains, to which I can't help but shiver at.