Clockwork Curse

A simple Halloween prank, that's all it was. A Halloween prank that would tick, tick, tick like clockwork...

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1. Questions Day-November 1st

"Tick, tock, tick, fades the clock,

Tock, tick, tock, counts the clock..."

~\~\~

"I know you, Skitty. You and your lot were in this time last year for the exact same thing, weren't you?" A strange look came over Jenson Skitty's expression. "I'm sure you lot were, or maybe I'm just getting sick and tired of being in this career and dealing with the day-after Halloween shit, huh." A smile threatened to tug up the middle-aged mans mouth as he leaned forward on his crooked elbows, leaning his chin onto his raised fists. "Tell me. Why'd you do it? Bit of fun? Halloween making it feel like it was an acceptable prank to do? Take your time, tell it in your own words, don't leave anything out and tell the truth. Trust me, I can smell the gears working in your brain telling you to lie-don't lie to me kiddo, you'll be in a lot more trouble if you, understood?"

Eyebrows furrowed, Skitty stared hard at his hands shaking in his lap. The detective said he smelled his brain cooking up a lie, but the thing was, Skitty couldn't even remember what had happened to think up a lie. "I can't remember," he mumbled, biting his lip, "I can remember planning something for Halloween with my mates, but I can't remember what it was exactly we planned to do. Was it something bad?" Skitty's expression turned troubled, while the detectives turned sour-he could see that the seventeen year old boy would admit to it, but the fact that he couldn't remember anything meant he couldn't disclose any information about the 'prank' the group of boys had done. In fact, anybody the detective asked, they immediately seemed to close up and forget any details. 

Sighing and pressing a fist into his forehead, the detective reluctantly flipped open the folder on the table and pushed it forward so Skitty could take a look. Skitty glanced at the detectives worried eyes and hesitantly dragged the folder closer. There were files of each member within the group and pictures of the 'prank' that they had pulled last night-and, according to the detectives memory, the year before as well. Staring hard at each of the pictures, Skitty tried to focus his eyes to get clear images, yet all he saw from the A4 sized photos were darkened smudges. It took several moments before he worked up the courage to speak. 

"I don't see anything. It's just dark smudges on the pages, sir." The detective worked away at a crease in his forehead with his fingers before replying.

"At least you were polite about it. One of the other boys threw them at me and asked me why I was showing him the pictures and how I knew." Something niggled at the back of Skitty's mind, like a repressed memory. But whyWhy would he almost but not quite remember being in a police station, being questioned about a prank he couldn't remember doing?

 

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