Time Stands Still

A large grandfather clock looms over a dimly lit foyer. Dust has settled onto the ledges in noticeable quantities, making evident years and years of neglect. And yet still the pendulum hiding behind clouded glass swings back and forth rhythmically over and over again. From one side to the other and back in an endless swaying motion. It would be impossible to calculate how long the clock had remained, continuing its habit of marking time at the same intervals. But come what may it still continued on. Just like time. Just like life. It was structured. Unchanging.


A single, calloused hand reaches out to touch the glass, fingers streaking across the pane and clearing the layer of dust and grime where the digits had grazed. In the reflection of the thin, clear streaks is a familiar, sneering face. The trench warfare champion stares back at himself, amused by some thought that flickers in his mind. What that thought is is anyone’s guess but in a few days it will be time to enter into his playground. HIs battleground. His home. And a new toy to play with has stumbled into the web that he’s been weaving for many days. Weeks. Months.


Briefly, Kaven clicks his tongue and a rumble of laughter arises from the depths of his soul. Never has his laughter sounded pure and unadulterated, like an innocent child, and that remains the same in this moment. Most would call it unhinged, or at the very least on the brink of sanity, but what the world so often refers to as different is something he has embraced fully. It is the heart of the message he has been preaching for time unending. Another lost sheep has come his way, and a lesson needs to be taught.

“There is a comfort in structure. Comfort in knowing that, come what may, certain things stay the same. They stay the same regardless of whether you shift them. Twist them. Bend them. Still, the essence of what those things are remains untouched and pure. Time is one of those things, and sheep who fear change cling desperately to it.”


Drell shifts so that the audience is no longer simply focused on his reflection in the glass of the old grandfather clock, but instead on the reality of his being.

“You are a visionary, Anna Daniels. A gem. Unique in your own right. There is no denying that but what makes you great is what makes you vulnerable. Bend it. Twist it. Shape it. Do whatever you want with it, but it binds you. It makes you predictable. It makes you easy to read. You may float through time eternal, but wherever it is that you appear, time continues onward like a never ending beat of the drum. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.”


Loud, barking laughter echoes around the stone hallways of the ancient structure that Drell finds himself in. His hands reach out once more and peel away layers of dust with one brush stroke of his palm. Squatting down in front of the clock his head sways back and forth in motion with the long, golden pendulum.

“I wish that you would allow me to free you from those chains. From the bonds of time. You would be glorious to watch, like a butterfly no longer entrapped by its cocoon, finally abe to spread its wings and embrace freedom rather than captivity. Instead, I look at you and am nothing but disappointed. Disappointed because you will never summon the courage to take that leap. Never summon the courage to break those shackles. You’ll never summon the courage to be great. Instead, you’re content. Content to play third wheel in the Hellcats machine. Content to be Jackie’s cute little plaything. Content to be what they tell you you must be.”


The smile that had been present on Drells face a moment before now fades to a bemused gaze intermingled with disappointment.

“And as such, when you step into the trenches. Into the battleground. Into war with me, a man of chaos. A man unbound. You meet a man who doesn’t simply have complete disregard for structure, and for what the world says is acceptable. You meet a man who has embraced chaos and wrapped himself in it. When my followers stand in their seats and they chant my name, it is because they recognize the freedom from stagnancy that I have brought to them. They recognize that I have stripped this company of its status quo. A place that was once inhabited by predictability is now a home of madness. I am the author and finisher of chaos, Anna. I am the whirlwind. And when you step into the trenches with me, that storm demands a price. You’ll not leave without paying it.”


Slowly, Drells hand extends toward a small golden knob on the wood that frames the pane of glass that he had ran his hand across a few moments prior. Grasping it, he pulled the door open slowly and exposed the heart of the clock to himself and to the audience that he knew would be watching.

“For Elena DeDraca it was to strip her of the prize that she clung to so desperately. For Michael Kelly it was his reputation. For Johnny Vachon it was his pride. For you, though, my little time princess… for you it will be comfort. It will be that security blanket you wrap yourself in. What happens when the whirlwind envelops you? What happens when you can’t distinguish between up and down? Right and left? Vertical and Horizontal? What happens when those rhythmic, constant measurements get lost in a sea of madness? What happens when the path before you is no longer clear? When where you place your feet is obscured from view? War is hell, Anna. And the trenches are no place for a woman like you. But all the same, it’s where you find yourself. And when you step into that ring with me, I will rip that security blanket from your hands. I’ll cast it into the fire and…”


Like a rushing wind a mass of whispers suddenly swirls in the ears of those watching. Three words. Let it burn. Drell smirks as he once more gazes upon his reflection, this time in the swinging pendulum instead of the glass.

“You know the rest.”


“My mother used to tell me not to fuck with cats. If you anger one, well, they’ll hurt you. But I can’t think of anything that will delight me more than to do just that with you. To be the shock to your world that you never saw coming. A woman who measures success by victories and failures. You revealed as much about yourself already haven’t you? Those who are undefeated never stay that way, your words correct? But a woman who measures success by victories and losses is forever bound to that system. What is left of Anna Daniels when those bold assurances go up in smoke?”


The questions hang on the air for a few moments but Drell continues to prod more and more.

“What happens when that shiny championship belt you’re chasing remains inches from your grasp and you have nothing left to offer? What happens when you stand across from me and your spirit breaks across all of time and space throughout all of eternity? What happens, Anna, when the hand of Kaven Drell reaches out and brings time to a halt?”


Like lightning, Drell’s hand reaches out and latches onto the pendulum, halting its momentum on a dime. In that moment a bright white flash of light erupts with a clash, and then everything goes dark. The ticking of the clock that had been present throughout now silenced. All that remained was an endless, ceaseless void of darkness.

What feels like an eternity passes and then, in a whisper, Kaven’s voice ignites the senses of his viewers.

“Kill.”

A pause, for a heartbeat.

“Drell.”

His voice growing louder, and more forceful. Dominating the void.

“Kill.”

Erupting with a shout, it’s as though his voice is all enveloping and encompassing. All that remains is Kaven Drell and the deep, dark void.

“That is the price you will pay, Anna. For the remainder of your life you will know in the back of your mind, Kaven Drell can strip you of your foundation. He can strip you to your very core at any time he wishes, and the rest of the universe will chant for it. They’ll scream for it. They’ll beg to witness your undoing once more.”

A chuckle echoes from the darkness, chilling to the bone.

“There is no escape. I’m waiting. Come to me, and I'll make time stand still. For you.”

Silence.

Static.