Walk This Way

Looking at his watch he guesses that he has been walking for about thirty minutes. He had rounded the corner about twenty-five minutes ago, seeing the entrance, now his exit, in the distance; from that moment onward that far-off destination has not gotten closer. Slowly turning around, he sees to his horror he is still standing by the bend. In all that time he thought he was walking back the way he came. He had only moved a yard.

"This isn't possible," he stammers as he stands there dumbfounded at what he just discovered. He has made no progress back the way he came and it would seem the only way to move is in the opposite direction; in fact, as soon as he thinks this a gust of wind blows in the direction he was originally walking. Not able to think of anything and with no other way out, Charlie just turns around and starts walking along, unsure of where he is going, or how long it will take to get there.

Charlie has been walking for three hours now, though that is only a guess, as his watch is spinning non-stop, like the hands are playing some chaotic game of tag. As the sun starts going down and giving way to darkness, the woods around him begin to change into horrible things that only dark shadows and strange events can bring about. Grim faces in the darkness leer at him as he stumbles along, just-visible wisps of vaguely humanoid shapes and appearances, only their sizes differ greatly, some being too tall for him to see the top of. Some are eyeless, lipless, or even skinless, mocking and jeering him as he creeps along. This wasn't even the worst of it, for Charlie physically feels his mind snap when he begins to notice strange shapes dancing through the trees, leaves and even the night sky; these shapes are of an unknown nature, the likes of which Charlie had never seen before. It would almost seem as though the deepest depths of any ocean body is hovering over his head, sailing through the darkened sky. The dimly-lit translucent bodies floating all around vary in size and shape, some as small as a pinky finger, and others, the ones Charlie wants to know the least about, remain hidden behind the clouds, their shadowy figures only giving a vague hint at their size and nature. Some are so monstrous and huge only a single part of them is able to be viewed by looking in a single direction. It's like looking at a distant wall, only to realize that said wall is shifting and moving.

Despite seeing all of this, Charlie wills himself to just keep walking. "There has to be an end, there needs to be an end," he repeats to himself, "If not, I'm going to lose my mind." He would forever be lost along this damned stone path. It truly seems that way until the path finally ends, an end that is more shocking and horrifying in the implication of it, let alone being subjected to the actual thing. For that thought of an infinite walkthrough nightmarescape is much closer to what the truth is; Charlie is approaching the end of his journey. Looking down at his watch again he sees that the hands are moving so fast they are a blur, and then it hits him like a thunderbolt.

"IT'S THE WATCH, IT'S THE DAMNED WATCH!" he screams as he rips it off and throws it on the ground. Preceding to stomp on it as hard as he can, he savors the crunch under his heel. Once he is done, he stops and looks around, only to find that nothing has changed and he dares not try and leave the path to wander in those ill-fated woods.

Soon he comes to what appears to be a white wall, but as he gets closer it looks to be a wall of smoke or fog, standing like a door at the end of the stone path. Feelings of madness slowly wrap their tendrils around his brain and sink their fishhooks deep ; without even a second thought, he holds up one hand and walks through. As he continues walking, he starts feeling the sensation of the path declining. Being able to see only a few inches in front of him, he senses the now-overpowering feeling of being watched, and for the first time, he notices how eerily quiet it is. Every part of his being is telling him to escape and run, but to where and how? He dares not step out of the path the two lines of stones have made; he feels he can just barely make out faint shapes moving around in the mist. To his horror, he comes close to what he thought was a mighty tree, wanting more than anything to touch it and feel its realness, but right before his eyes it simply lifts itself out of the ground and disappears into the fog-choked air; not a single noise was made.

Finally, Charlie just stops walking, slowly sitting down with his chin resting on his knees, arms wrapped around his legs. He doesn't know how long he cries for, how long he screams at nothing or possibly some damnable thing that he never would want to see in a million years; laughter escapes his lips too, in a frenzy. More and more becomes convinced there is no way to escape, and as that sinks in he feels a swell of dark emotions start to rise up. After a while it is hard to tell if Charlie is laughing or crying, emotions flying and dancing through his mind like colors as they come and go in bright flashes. Having lost all track of time and no longer keeping an effort to keep track of it, he sits there in the thick mist for what feels like ages.

Shakily, he stands back up again and starts trudging along the path, eyes darting all around, catching ghastly horrid things just at their corners. The silence is so overbearing that he starts to shuffle his feet on the ground just to hear something, unaware that he is doing it at all. Charlie even fancies he can hear running water coming from the mist, mocking him of his end and how he will die of thirst and hunger in this simple, devious place. Then he comes to a body of water, his shuffling feet becoming drenched before he even realizes it. Startled, he jumps back, only to suddenly feel phantom hands stop him and push him forward. Terrified, for this is the first contact he has felt for quite some time, he looks back and screams for all of this to stop; then he screams I WISH I HAD A JELLY DONUT followed by suppressed laughter. When he turns around, there floating in the water is a jelly donut, powdered sugar on top. His mind is now fully gone, and his hunger takes over. Without thinking, he grabs the donut and devours it in one bite. Then he starts gulping mouthfuls of water. It all tastes so good to him, so good indeed, but he has to keep going as the ghost hands insist on pushing him forward.

"Break time over, time to get back to work," he says to himself in an undead trance. As he keeps walking, the water keeps getting higher – first to his knees then his waist. Once he reaches this spot he stops for a moment, only to feel the wraithlike hands push again to get him to march forward. As the water goes over his head, the hands hold him down while at the same time urging him forward. Unable to resist them he succumbs, knowing that he is going to die; a sudden moment of clarity comes to mind, one single beautiful thought, and he acts on it immediately.

Feeling the water to be warm, he knows he would have a split second and that would be it. He would be damned if he would die this way, this thing means to drown him, so he reaches into his pocket and produces the item. He opens it and applies the smooth steel edge to his wrists, making sure to cut the main veins.

It is only a second. He feels nothing, and as he drifts off he can feel himself floating away into death's sweet embrace; then he notices something off in the distance. Reaching for his blinker, he signals to turn into what looked like the empty parking lot of a pawn store.

A strange feeling has come over Charlie, and he isn't sure what just happened. He must have spaced out for a minute and come to, just in time to make the turn. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself; he had needed a new watch for a while, since he had lost the one he previously had, and what luck to find a store just as he was thinking about it.

A bit rough-looking on the outside, it still had an air of something special to it, Charlie thought as he looked over the pawn store. Various knick-knacks, outdoor furniture, and some worn statues sat outside, staring at the parking lot. Bobbles and figurines lined the windows and the entrance was covered with stickers, one reading, "Beware dimension-hopping wizards." Smiling a bit at this, he strolls in and is greeted by a very well-dressed man who seems to have more than one pupil in each blue eye, but on second glance it would seem he is quite normal-looking. "Guess it's going to be one of those days."