A Clockwork Life
-a grrside story-

I really liked my new house. It was big and spacious but at the same time it had that old-fashioned look and charm that made it really cozy. It had been really cheap as the previous owner had disappeared without a trace a long time ago and the best part was that it was already furnished.

And what exquisite pieces of furniture they were! There was a large vintage armchair in the living room placed next to the currently lit fireplace. It was nearly winter and I yearned for some warmth so I sat on the armchair as my gaze continued to admire my new home.

This antique rug, that cabinet, those paintings... I wondered how many years had they been on this house. I really liked antiquings, they were my passion and life work. I owned a small pawn shop that didn’t give me that much money but let me enjoy my time with my little ‘treasures’. My favorites were obviously the watches.

I liked all of them! Wristwatches, pocket watches, grandfather’s clocks... Anything to do with clockwork excited me. I took out my favorite pocket watch from my robe’s pocket and admired it. The backside was see-through, so you could see all the tiny gears working together without rest. It was a real shame that this house didn’t have any clocks. Mmm... Oh! Right next to that cabinet there was a nice spot for a grandfather’s clock. If there was one there then this living room would be much more than lovely, it would be perfect!

If only my wallet wasn’t completely dry... I gave a quick ironic chuckle regretting my low income. “Oh, how I’d trade my soul for a nice grandfather’s clock for this magnificent living room!” I declared to the heavens. “An excellent clockwork piece, gears always turning, always delighting my visitors with the tick and tock of an unceasing swinging pendulum!”

Oh! How much I wish those words hadn’t left my own throat. I never knew if whoever had heard my dumb wish had been God, the Devil or a mischievous spirit, as the next thing I knew my legs made me spring up of their own accord. My face was expressionless like I had been turned into a mere puppet that resembled myself. I couldn’t do nothing more other than wonder what kind of dark magic was being used to move my invisible strings.

I began to walk towards the vacant space on the living room, right next to the cabinet. As my legs ordered me to move, my hands decided to let my robe get undone and fall on the rug as they deemed the piece of clothing to be unnecessary. My body positioned itself so I was facing the whole living room in a rigid and emotionless expression like a guardian statue protecting the sanctity of the vintage decorations that surrounded me.

I had read some fables and legends in my youth. Thanks to those I had learned about werewolves, mythical man-beasts that were cursed to roam the Earth with two forms that were in constant struggle for dominance of one body.

Unlike in those tales, my skin didn’t grow inhuman fur. However, my skin did change textures. I tried desperately to touch my body to find out what was happening to it, but I could barely move the tips of my fingers. My eyes darted down but I couldn’t see any feeble human flesh, instead I could only see... wood?
I tried to scream and call for help but I was powerless to even do that. I could only pray for whoever was responsible for this to have mercy on this poor man. I pondered with utmost fear what had happened to me. I wanted to know why I had been punished like this. I wanted to know why I couldn’t move. I wanted to know what horrible transfiguration I had gone through. Or maybe... it would be better if I never knew?

Just then, I heard a sound. It was constant, predictable, comforting. And I realized it was coming from me.

“Tick... Tock...”

What was this?

“Tick... Tock...”

Was it my own heartbeat? No, it was something much more intrincated than some lowly bodily function. I could feel it. My inner gears were grinding for a purpose. I had to keep this sound alive.

“Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...”

My body felt no need for anything else. It only yearned to keep making this sound. My mind, however, was horrified. I had lots to look forward in life. I couldn’t just stand there for the rest of my existence. But it was hard for me to think, I had to keep making the sound or else I felt like I would be as good as dead.

“Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...”

Someone... Someone had to come here eventually, right? They’d wonder where I had disappeared to without a trace. How... How long would it take for someone to realize my absence...? Oh, I know... I’ll find out for sure if I count the seconds until someone rescues me... “Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock... Tick... Tock...”