00:00It was the kind of clock that didn't just tell time it watched it.
00:04A heavy, ornate grandfather clock that had stood in the old, Langford Manor for over a century,
00:11its pendulum swinging in solemn rhythm, marking every passing second like a heartbeat.
00:18When Evelyn inherited the house from her late uncle, she found the clock covered in dust,
00:24its brass-faced doll. The glass fogged from years of neglect. Yet when she wound it,
00:30the moment her hand touched the key, the gears groaned to life with a low, almost human sigh.
00:36The hands began to move again, slow and steady, ticking back into motion.
00:42The chime that followed was deep and rich, echoing through the empty halls.
00:47She smiled then until she noticed the time it kept. No matter how many times she adjusted it,
00:53the clock would always stop at exactly. 12 o'clock. AM not 12.01. Not 11.59 always midnight.
01:03And every time it stopped, something in the house changed.
01:07The first night, she heard footsteps on the landing. Light, but deliberate, circling the upper floor,
01:14just as the final chime rang. She called out, thinking it was a burglar. But the steps stopped
01:21abruptly. When she searched the hall, she found nothing but the faint smell of candle smoke. Though
01:28she hadn't lit any, the second night, it happened again. This time, the footsteps were slower,
01:35heavier, accompanied by a faint dragging sound. When she descended the stairs the next morning,
01:41she saw something carved into the wooden banister faint, shallow scratches forming letters she couldn't
01:48quite read. By the third night, she was ready. She sat in the parlor as the clock ticked toward midnight,
01:56her pulse keeping time with it. The air grew colder with each passing second. The final chime rang and then,
02:04silence. The pendulum stopped. For a long moment, nothing moved. Then came a whisper from the dark
02:11hallway beyond the clock. You wound it. The voice was low, rasping, like dry leaves scraping across wood.
02:19Evelyn froze. Who's there? She demanded, forcing her voice to stay steady. You brought me back,
02:27it whispered again. Closer now. The air around the clock shimmered faintly, and for just an instant,
02:34she saw a shape reflected in the glass doll. Thin, featureless. She stumbled backward, heart pounding.
02:42The reflection vanished. The clock stood silent, its hands frozen at twelve. That night she couldn't
02:50sleep. Every creak, every sigh of the house felt alive, listening. When she finally drifted off,
02:57she dreamed of the clock. In her dream, it stood in the same parlor. But the walls were cracked and
03:04rotting, the windows blacked out. The clock's face had no hands. And something inside it was breathing
03:11slow. Ragged breaths that made the pendulum twitch. A voice from within said, Keep me wound. She woke with
03:19a gasp to find the key in her hand, though she'd left it on the mantle. Her pulse hammered as she stared at
03:26it. The next morning, she tried to move the clock, but it wouldn't budge. The wood had fused with the
03:33floor. The nails rusted into the boards as if the house itself didn't want to let it go. When she
03:40tried to stop the pendulum, the chain burned her fingers, leaving a faint black mark that wouldn't
03:47wash away. That night, the storm rolled in lightning flashing through the windows, thunder rattling the
03:54glass. Evelyn sat alone, the ticking echoing in her skull. At one minute to midnight, she stood before the
04:02clock. The second hand trembled, its motion uneven. Please, she whispered to no one. Just stop. The
04:10final second struck, and the clock began to chime. But this time, it didn't stop at twelve. It kept
04:17ringing thirteen times, fourteen, fifteen each chime louder than the last. Until the sound filled every room,
04:25vibrating through her bones. Then, from behind the glass, a hand pressed outward, pale, thin, fingers,
04:35long enough to leave trails of frost. On the inside of the glass, Evelyn stumbled back as the hand pushed
04:42harder, cracking the pane. The chime stopped abruptly. Silence fell. Then, a faint click the sound of the
04:50clock winding itself. When the neighbors came days later, they found the front door locked from the inside. The
04:58clock stood still, its pendulum swinging lazily again, keeping perfect time for the first time in decades. The
05:05hands pointed to twelve o'clock. As always, inside the glass, faintly etched by frost, was the outline of a woman's
05:14face eyes wide open. Mouth parted as if whispering for help. From that day on, the Langford clock never
05:22stopped again. But every night, just before midnight, if you listen closely, you can hear a second voice
05:29taking in rhythm with it. One that isn't mechanical at all.
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