The ticks and tocks of a clock will forever haunt me. I don't even think I have a clock that's ticking and ticking anymore. It's just in my head. Funny isn't it? I was the one who was painted as the 'manipulator,' the 'puppet master,' but now my sanity hangs by a thread because of the ticks and tocks of an old clock.
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
I peered through the dark room, there was a clock this time. Sam must've replaced it. Looks as old and dirty as the previous one. 'Shut up...' I thought, I stared at the clock, it was the only thing in this god forsaken room that gives me any gauge of the real world. Yet, I hated that clock, I hated the ones before it, all for its horrific sounds of tick and tock.
The obsidian room was dark, the small source of light was from the lava flowing down over the entrance. Any heat that came from the lava wasn't strong enough to keep me warm, at least not for long, if I sat too close for more than 5 minutes the only thing the lava gives me is burn blisters. That's not even the worst thing about this cell, no bed to keep me warm, no torch to keep me calm, no books to help my boredom and no friends to keep me sane. Just the ticking and tocking of a clock letting me know how many days, hours, minutes, and seconds have gone by. I could hear the vague shouts through the layers of lava and obsidian. '3...2...1...Happy New Year!' Faint explosions could be heard outside, rattling the prison and the land around it. I hugged myself in an attempt to keep warm.
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
I have very little concept of time now, I stopped counting 6 months after New Years Eve the days I was here. Sam stopped dropping off food 2 weeks after New Years Eve, saying it was too much of a hassle but built an automatic potato dispenser. By my guess every 4 weeks it was changed, I could tell from how rotten the potatoes were when they were dispensed. Ones closer to that mark were spoiled but then a newer batch would replace them a week later. Quackity will be here tomorrow...same time as last week. He began showing up after Sam built the dispenser, I still haven't healed from the last time but he needs me alive, for that goddamn revival book. I can't speak anymore, my vocal cords were damaged. I can't tell if it was from the screaming and crying or some of the injuries I had.
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
Tick
Tock
I felt the tears well up in my eyes, as I stared back at the clock.
'Shut Up!'
ČTEŠ
The Forgotten
FanfikceDream died...but no one realized. I mean why would they? No one came to check up on him after they threw him in the prison...if it could even be called that. But the fallen tyrant held more secrets then anyone else on the server. His own and others...
