• CRASH

    "C'mon guys we really shouldn't be here. It's says it's dangerous!" I said shaking a little. My tallest friend, Eric, waved his hand and made a pft sound.

    "You're just a chicken D!" he said, clucking like a chicken and flapping his arms like wings. I glowered at him as my friends started to laugh. I wasn't scared. I admit I'm not. It was just, we didn't know what was actually in here.

    The rumors were that a witch lives at the top of the clock tower, winding the gears up everyday and casting her spells on the town. They say, on windy nights, you can hear her cackling. I didn't believe the rumors, but my friends did. They weren't too bright like that.

    Suddenly, Eric shoved me towards the ladder that led to the top of the tower. He smirked evilly at me and rested his elbow on my shoulder. "Prove your not a chicken by going up there for the rest of the night." he said. I absolutely hated being called a chicken, so I took him up on his offer.

    I started to slowly climb up the creaking ladder. The higher up I got, the more I thought this was a stupid idea and that I was probably gonna fall. Higher and higher, darker and steeper. I felt like I was having an anxiety attack! But then, I bumped my head against the trap door at the top of the ladder.

    I waited and stared at the door, waiting for it to open by itself I suppose. "Go on Chicken Boy!" my friends hollered at me. I grimmaced and banged against the door as if it was locked. Which it wasn't. The door opened with ease and I slowly and hesitantly climbed into the tower's main room.

    I couldn't believe my eyes

    The main room was large, maybe larger two football fields. Gigantic cogs and gears and metal works spun and spurted and twisted and turned. The face of the clock was lit up with the moonlight outside. The moonlight reflected off all the copper gears and metal cogs and springs into a dark corner of the room.
    I noticed something in the corner of the room. Bandages, wrapped around something roundish. I pushed my glasses up onto my face and looked a little closer. They looked like...feet! I stumbled backwards and nearly fell. I listened closely and heard a small voice speaking.
    "Who are you?" it asked me. I was in shock. I couldn't say anything! Even after my mouth came open, I didn't hear any words come back out. "Who are you? Why are you here?" asked the soft voice in a more worried tone.
    I snapped myself out of the trance. "My name is Damian Corkpocket. Who are you?" I asked. The feet in the moonlight disappeared. Almost instantly, it was replaced by a hand pushing back into the darkness, and then the feet reappeared, only in a standing stance.

    A beautiful, young girl, my age, walked into the moonlight. She had crystal blue eyes, like the river beside my house. She had snow white hair that gleamed in the moonlight. She had pale skin, like porcleain and a small lean figure. She wore a tattered dress with something black, like ashes maybe, resting upon her right shoulder. She had bare feet that were bandaged up, like her small hands.

    "My name is Marionette."