Horror / Paranormal

Date Published: 09-08-2025

 Experience the eternal, beautiful dread of summer nights, where every shadow holds a story and the past refuses to stay buried.

The grandfather clock chimed loudly and could be heard from Sara’s bedroom. It was closed and she ran to it. It said nine o’clock, but it was the middle of the afternoon. Sara Greyston wondered why it rang when it hadn’t in over a year. Her parents heard it too. The clock was very old and was built by her great-grandfather, George. She moved the arms to three o’clock. There wasn’t much hope that it was going to work right. She wasn’t sure what time it was.
She ran into her mother’s bedroom. “Can we take it and get it fixed?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so. It’s only for show,” her father said.
When she got to her room she checked the time on her cell phone. It said ten am. Her watch was right, but she never wore it. The time on her computer also said ten am.
“Did the power go out?” she asked her mother.
“No,” her mother responded. “I don’t think so.”
Maybe that was it, and she shrugged. It was an old clock and an old house, and it had been in the family for at least a century. She had just graduated from high school and had time to do what she wanted. All she really wanted to know was when her friends were going to the beach and which school she should go to in the fall.
Just as she feared, the grandfather clock randomly chimed. She sat up in bed and checked her watch. It said one in the morning. It was so cold she got up to get hot tea and turn on the heat. Afterwards, she lay down and checked her watch. It still said one in the morning. In the morning, she would have to reset it. Lying there, she suddenly heard small footsteps in the attic. Reiny hadn’t seen that doll since Mary died, and the doll was locked with a bolt so that it couldn’t get out. The protector doll had become a threat in high school a couple of years ago.
Come early morning, she grabbed the keys and unlocked the attic door. There near the door was Reiny. Her lifelike eyes were staring at Sara. She picked her up, and the clock chimed. It was annoying, but somebody in the family had made it. She took the doll downstairs and shut the door behind her. She had planned to lock it up somewhere still.
She sat in the kitchen eating her eggs. From the corner of her eye, she could have sworn she saw the doll turn its head toward her. Her mom entered the kitchen.
“Mom, what’s the name of the relative that built the big broken clock?” Sara asked.
“George Greyson. He was a clock-maker and the original owner of this house. He was great at it. I’m sure there are pictures and tools he used to use up in the attic,” she answered sipping her coffee.
“I’ll definitely go up there,” Sara said. Her mom noticed how the doll sat in her green and white dress near Sara.
“That’s Reiny,” Sara said. “I believe she may be controlling the clock.”

About the Author

 Martha Wickham has a knack for finding the ghosts hidden in the dust. A lifelong student of the arcane and the artistic, Martha has an Associate’s Degree and professional writing credentials, but she honed her skills in the thrilling shadows of screenwriting and horror. Martha lives for the secrets that only come out “By Dawn”. You can discover more of her work, including her newest audiobooks, at your favorite retailer.