Time

28 days.

673 hours.

40320 minutes.

It had become a subconscious process, the counting. The constant tick tock in his head, beating louder than his own heartbeat, filling his head with terror. He had always counted, keeping track of the time he was able to walk, talk, and think like before that horrifying night. Now all there was was that internal clock, counting down his days of borrowed freedom before the inevitable darkness would consume him again.

He had left that night, running deep into the woods, his left leg burning with such a fierce fiery pain, he was almost certain he was going to die. It was then that the clock started ticking. It was quiet for the first few days, a soft melody faded to the back of his mind. However, like a living thing it had grown, fueled by time in an endless fight with the winner already foretold. It had woven around his mind, intertwining with every thought, movement and emotion. Many times he had pulled at his head, begging it to stop, to leave him be, but the rhythmic ticking never once wavered. Currently it was the loudest it had ever been, his head thudding… throbbing... aching…

Now he was here. Standing on the lawn of the small, one bedroom, one bathroom, country house sat upon a 5 acre lot in the middle of suburban River Hills. It was peaceful here. A soft autumn breeze blew past, plucking the odd brightly coloured leaf from the almost barren branches. Damian sighed at the sight. He had never understood the appeal of country life until this moment. It was so quiet here, like the calm before the storm. And there was a storm coming. He knew it the moment his shoe had hit the dirt of this small town. It was contaminated now, his presence plaguing the calm autumn atmosphere, leaving a bitter taste in the air. He had 2203 minutes left.

It was 1:37pm when Damian pulled into the parking lot of the local hardware store. It was a smaller building compared to those in his old city. They had all been modern builds with large windows and bright lights. This store however was small in comparison, made of red brick with small, arched windows lining the second floor. Above the large double doors was an overhang stating the name of the shop in soft yellow letters. RANDY’S HARDWARE was located near the center of the main town, surrounded by roads and shops, every one of them bursting with life. A soft bell rang as the door opened. The store was mostly empty save for a few teenage employees, huddled behind the counter gossiping in hushed whispers.

Damian made his way to the back of the store, his army green hoodie pulled over his head with his backpack slung on one shoulder. He scanned the shelves for a moment before grabbing a large lock and chain from the shelf and stuffing it in his bag. He glanced around briefly before heading for the Home Improvements section. Again he scanned the shelves, this time to no avail. Just then an older gentleman, perhaps in his mid 60s, appeared from a storage closet and approached the boy, a large grin on his face.

“ Oh my word! Hasn't no one new come to town in ages,” the old man exclaimed, “ will ya be staying here for a very long son?”

Damian looked the stranger up and down. He was a small old man, almost bird-like in a way. He had hair as white as snow and was clearly balding in some areas. His clothes looked worn and tattered, evidence of age and constant use. The gentleman smiled again, revealing a row of crooked yellow teeth. The boy decided he looked nice enough.

“ Yessir, I just moved in down the road. Haven’t been here all that long, just needed to pick up some things for the dog before I get settled in,” he said, his eyes wandering to the shelf, “ I’m looking for a metal stake to attach the old boy to when I’m not around, he’s not really an inside kind of pet”.

“ I see, lemme check what we got in the back here, I’ll be right over.”

Damian watched as the man scurried into the back room, returning moments later with a large metal, T shaped, stake in his hands. He handed it to the boy.

“ That should hold ‘em!” the man pronounced, “ this thing can take anything”.

I sure hope so, thought Damian, without voicing his thoughts aloud. 

The man glanced at the boy’s face, lingering for a split second longer than necessary.

“ You really look like you’re gonna rob some poor old fella boy… maybe lose the hood,” he stared into Damian’s eyes with a look that screamed, I know what you’re up to, but said nothing more on the matter.

“ Your folks know where you are son?”

“ Actually they both died when I was 9… Part of the reason I moved here was to escape the memory,” the boy explained, something like sadness flashed in his grey eyes before a pure look of determination and strength filled them. No harm in sharing partial truths, he thought. “ I planned to move when I turned 19, alsas, more pressing matters arose and I had to wait a year”.

“ I’m sorry to hear that son… the name’s Randy. I hope to be seeing you around town now that I know you’ll be staying,”

“ Thank you Randy, Hope to see you around as well. I’m Damian,” Both men gave a friendly nod before parting their separate ways.

Once back in his car, Damian pulled the lock and chain from his bag as well as the pole he paid for. They weren’t much but they would have to do. The boy turned the key, igniting the ignition with a sound that should not at all have been emitted and put the vehicle into reverse. He quickly slammed on the brake though when a car surprised him from behind. He hopped out of the vehicle to give them a piece of his mind, however, as the driver of the car also jumped out, he saw the driver was a young girl.

She was beautiful and Damian froze on the spot at the sight. She started walking towards him, a concerned expression on her face. She stopped a few inches from his car, bending down to examine the damage.

“ Oh my gosh!” she exclaimed, running her fingers along the scratches on his back left fender, “ I’m so sorry! I’ve only been driving this car for a few months and I’ve already hit someone…”

She gave a defeated sigh and sat down. Damian didn’t know what came over him but he sat down next to her, staring at the slight dent in his car. She pushed back a lock of long, light brown hair out of her face and turned to look at him.

“ I’m really sorry about the car,” she said, “ I hope it won’t cost too much to fix.”

Damian looked at the car and then back at her, “ Hey look, don’t worry about it… it's just a few scratches in the paint,” And a dent, “ It’s a piece of junk anyways and really won't cost much to fix,” yes it will.

She seemed to lighten up a little at that and extended her hand for him to shake, which he gladly did. The two talked for a bit about the best cafes around and their favorite bands. The girl’s name was Aubrey and, for the first time in a while, Damian felt like a kid again. The ticking slowly faded to the background and he felt more alive than ever.

“ So what are you hiding,” that phrase alone was enough to bring it all crashing down in an avalanche of horror.

“ W-what do you mean?” he asked, his voice quaking slightly.

“ What I mean is no one comes to this town because they live an honest life, people come here to hide or to escape” she paused, staring into his eyes, “ so which are you?”

Damian looked at her. Really looked at her. For the first time he noticed her faint freckles, the dimple on her right cheek and the small scar above her left eye. He didn’t have an answer for her… not even one for himself. He lost himself in her emerald eyes, trying to decide what to tell her when the large bell tower in the heart of the town started to chime. Saved by the bell. He hurriedly apologized for leaving, arranged to meet up later and hopped back into his car, leaving Aubrey standing on the curb alone.

How did I lose track of time so quickly? He thought, shaking his head as he sped down the road towards his house. He pulled up the driveway in minutes, one of the perks of living in a small town, turned off the ignition and bolted into the house… only to return moments later for the metal stake, chains and flashlight he kept stored in the glovebox.

The interior of the house was dated, the light blue wallpaper deteriorating in some spots. The place was, for the most part, unfurnished save for a tattered old couch and a broken lamp. Damian continued further into the building. Even though it was old and worn, it still held a certain charm with the long, wood beams across the ceiling and exposed brick accents, it gave off a warm cottage feeling. The boy continued throughout the house until he came to a rug in the center of the master bedroom on the main floor. Hurriedly he tossed the rug aside, revealing the faint outline of a trap door  in the dust. He fumbled around for the latch, finding none. He rushed to the kitchen, grabbed a knife and proceeded to pry the hatch open. It gave out with a creak and popped up. Damian smiled as he heaved the door open the rest of the way.

The darkness from within was almost inviting in a twisted way. He shined the light into the hidden room, illuminating a step ladder into the abysse. He swung the backpack over his shoulder and propped the flashlight in his mouth as he began to descend.

His feet hit cement a moment later and he removed the flash light from his mouth, revealing a small streak of light in the otherwise pitch black room. Damian shifted the light source slowly, illuminating the hidden cellar.

That night was a long one. Damian sat in the dark, his mind at everlasting war with the clock. Even whilst hidden in the darkest corner of the deepest cellar it found him. The last time the clock hit zero had been catastrophic, even if he didn’t remember what exactly happened. The one thing he did know, was that he couldn’t let it happen again.

So he worked well into the night, preparing the cellar with food, water and the metal stake. Sunrise soon followed the blackened night, but Damian stayed in the room, preparing to block the hatch at a moment's notice.

To an outsider, the events of the cellar would appear to be of a paranoid man, attempting to keep someone or something out. However, what the onlooker would not know, is the gravity of keeping that someone or something in.

The next day was Halloween and it was evident everywhere in the small town, from the fake cobwebs that adorned people’s homes, to the stalks of corn tied to streetlights. The place was filled with life as children ran down the streets dressed as fairies and goblins. The smell of freshly baked pies wafted through the air from the local bakery, drawing the attention of passersby. Damian and Aubrey walked together along the road, laughing at all the commotion. Now this is something I could get used to, he thought, smiling as Bree handed a little boy a chocolate bar.

“ Hey Dami, there’s a Halloween party at the manor down the road… would you want to come with me?” she asked, giving him the puppy dog eyes.

“ I don’t know -”

“ Please!” she cut him off, “ it will be awesome, that house looks totally haunted, plus it’s a full moon!”

“ Ugh, fine,” he gave in, “ but I’ll have to leave early.”

“ Deal”

They arrived at the party around half past five clad in costume. Damian was a classic werewolf whilst Aubrey had gone for a different approach. She was dressed as a butterfly, complete with wings and a flower crown.

They partied well into the evening, Damian forgot all about the ever present clock and had a merry time dancing and meeting the locals. After a few hours he could hear the faint sound of the bell tower in the distance. He froze. Aubrey noticed his discomfort and tapped him on the shoulder, asking what was wrong.

“ I’m so sorry but I have to go,” he said, bolting outside to his car and driving as fast as he could down the moonlight bathed road.

60 minutes left. Damian burst into the house, clutching at his abdomen in pain. He gasped, seeing a light gash where his elongated nails dug into the flesh. He stumbled through the living room, knocking over everything in his path. After a few antagonizing seconds he reached the bedroom, flung the rug aside, and climbed into the cellar.

This time he didn’t need a flashlight, his eyes had shifted enough that he could see clearly in the dark. His hands fumbled for the chain, shaking with pain and fear. Finally he was able to hold it long enough to loop it around his left left, securing it with the lock and placing the key just out of reach. He glanced at the door, it was open an inch. He cried out in pain, gasping for air, as every bone in his body shattered and reconfigured themselves. The ticking was deafening, ringing in his ears. He held his head in his hands as his vision started to blur. He closed his eyes, begging it to stop until finally it did.

He opened them seeing the world in a hazy red. His vision was crystal clear as glass and the ticking was gone. He tried to turn his head, but his body was no longer his own. Damian listened, a ghost in a stranger's body, as a soft voice shattered what was left of his soul.

“ Dami?” she called, “ are you in here?”

The beast’s elongated canines gleamed in the dark as Damian’s heart broke.