The Watchmaker's Gift

by Charles Zitta

  As the wagon slowly clicked and clunked its way down the bumpy roadway, Charlie became cautiously aware of his unpromising surroundings. From high above, the full moon peeked through jagged clouds and twisted, monster-like trees—highlighting the unwelcoming landscape which flanked the road on which they were traveling. To their left were dozens of glowing eyes of all shapes, sizes and colors, which followed the wagon from a distance as it clanked along—eagerly waiting, hoping at some point, the cage would fall from the wagon and leave behind a late-night snack or two. But of course, they would first have to deal with the two Giggletorian guards trailing behind the wagon on foot. The Giggletorians were named so because of their interesting genetics. While their bodies resembled that of strong, muscular men, it was their hyena heads and persistent giggling that clearly set them apart from any other creatures of WONDER. In their overly large hands they carried long, axe-like weapons with spear tips, in case someone, or something, were to attack their precious cargo during its transport to the shadow realm castle.

  To the right of the road were a hundred plus shadow nibblers, who’s small green bodies, well rounded and covered with spikes, resembled what many in WONDER would describe as possessed chestnut shells, with big appetites for hair, that grew and fell from various trees of the forest. They too, were wishing for the cage to fall and break open, as they rolled and bounced alongside the wagon. But unlike the other creatures, the shadow nibblers only craved hair. To them it was like very fine spaghetti. It did not matter what type of hair—human, cat, horse, dog, goat, lion, tiger, bear or whatever, the shadow nibblers would eat up all the hair on a body until it was silky smooth. But since hair grows back, the nibblers were really nothing more than a common nuisance.

  The driver of the wagon had no time for nibblers, nor was he concerned with the other creatures. His deep-seated commitment to his dark leader far outweighed any meager threats posed by the immediate surroundings.

  But to Charlie and Michael, two young boys who had never before known or seen such things or shadows, it was a most frightening experience.

  “When is morning going to get here?” Charlie asked, while nervously looking around.

  “I’m afraid that in shadow realms, darkness is perpetual, Charlie,” the cat replied.

  Michael looked up towards the sky. “So that’s why the moon hasn’t moved since we got here.”

  “Right you are, Michael. And it won’t.”

  “And my watch still isn’t showing any signs of life,” Charlie added, with doubt painted across his face.

  Michael read his brother’s expression, then rested his head on Charlie’s shoulder, worried they would never get back to reality.

  The cat lifted his tail, surprised by its limp posture. “My tail appears to be out of order as well. Only black magic of the worst kind could have such an effect as this.”

  Charlie patted his lap, inviting the cat to curl up and take a nap.

  The old rickety wagon pulled by the two thorny-scaled dragons continued on down the dark, muddy road, while Charlie, Michael and Midnight all quietly, and hopelessly, cuddled together in a cage from which there was no escape.

  THWAK! One of the Giggletorians smacked the cage, startling the boys, and causing Midnight to spring straight up in the air and back down into Charlie’s lap. It was an uncomfortable landing from Charlie’s perspective, to say the least.

  “C’mon, wake up-wake up. We don’t wants to upset the master now do we?” the guard said with snarl lips, triggering his partner to let out a bellowing, hyena laugh.

  Charlie readjusted his sitting position, hugged Michael to ease his tension, then focused on what lied ahead, as he rested his head on one hand, while petting the cat with the other.

  As they came over the hilltop and out of the woods, the serpentine roadway curled downwards into a deep valley, surrounded on three sides by jagged, volcanic mountains. In the center of the valley, surrounded by a lava-filled molt, was a ragged castle of sorts, built out of dark, slate-like stone, which looked as though it could tumble down at any second.

  “Looks like we’re here,” Midnight said quietly to the boys. “If at all possible, we need to stick together.”

  SMACK! One of the guardsman hit the cage again, causing the boys and cat to flinch. “Hey, quiet down in there. No talking.”

  Charlie gave the Giggletorian a dirty look, showing he would not be intimidated that easily. Then he turned to Midnight and whispered back, “We’ll do our best.”

  Michael nodded in agreement as all three locked eyes.

  The rickety wagon had reached the valley and was approaching the castle entryway, flanked by two large, purple rhino’s. Both stood upright on two legs, and were dressed in shiny black armor with an ornate “S” crest, painted in red, yellow and white, across the chest plate. This was the same crest which adorned the flapping black flags atop the castle walls. Between the unfriendly rhino’s rose a large iron-bar gate, with rivets that loosely held it together.

  One of the rhino’s turned, looked upward towards the gate tower, then snarled and grunted out, “Visitors approaching.”

  There was a series of loud clanks and clicks. The gate slowly began to rise, clearing the way for the wagon, as it entered the castle property.

  The rhino’s nostrils flared, and their eyes beamed, as the two unfriendly creatures stared down the caged prisoners entering the heavily guarded property.

  The giant iron gate came down with a THUNK. The wagon turned left down a cobble stone road, with the castle wall on one side and resident facilities on the other. The air was hot and heavy from the surrounding lava. Steam randomly popped through the cracks in the unstable roadway, as the wagon continued on around the castle’s inner perimeter before turning right and heading through a smaller entryway with no gate. The entryway was guarded by two rock-like soldiers who’s facial expressions reflected what they were made of, hard, emotionless matter. They were at least five feet in diameter with short, stocky legs, enormous feet and long arms with giant hands that hung slightly above the ground. One carried with them a rock sword, and the other, a large rock hammer. Both stepped aside to let the wagon pass.

  Rising up before them stood a large, intimidating stairway flanked by fifteen foot high raven statues. Some forty to fifty feet above where their wagon came to rest sat a giant, arched doorway made of wood with dragon-head knockers and serpent handles.

  The ghastly driver turned back to the hyena guardsmen and grunted out commands, “Take the prisoners to the Dark Thorn master.”

  The wooden cage was unlocked and opened. Charlie, Michael and Midnight were poked and prodded by the Giggletorians, who escorted them towards the stairway.

  “Alright, lets get a move on ya filthy little buggers,” the guardsman on the left said.

  Midnight glared at the guard.

  “Yeah, that means you too, fur ball, he-he-he-ha-ha-he-he-ha!”

  As they begrudgingly worked their way up the giant stairway towards the enormous doors, the cat and his two friends glanced around at the frighteningly dark, and very detailed, entryway into Senkrad’s unpleasant shadow dwelling. Skirting each side of the rising stairs were intricate patterns, carved in stone, of haunting faces, wicked foliage, prickly thorns and other frightful things. Strangely enough, the faces appeared to turn and follow them as they continued upward, making young Michael feel most uncomfortable. Perched in the center, above the arched doorways, was a winged demon of sorts, who’s hollow eyes glowed green. The chiseled beast’s shadow, cast down and to the left by the moonlight, made his presence even more gruesome than it would have been if it were daylight. Two enormous stone torches, covered with carved skeletons and demon-like creatures, sat on each side of the doorway. Tall flames of green and yellow rose up from within their structures, flooding the arched doorways with unwelcoming flickers of dancing light.

  One of the Giggletorians reached for a dragon-head door knocker to signal their arrival, nearly loosing a hand to the feisty head wit
h razor sharp teeth. Finally winning out, he slammed the knocker repeatedly against the wooden door—which echoed throughout the chambers within.

  The left door creaked open. A small whiff of spirit cloud escaped from inside. Then ever so slowly, a ghostly female figure appeared in the doorway, welcoming the two Giggletorians. “So nice to… see you. Please…won’t you come in,” the graceful, blue figure with a porcelain-like face and white flowing hair said—gesturing for the prisoners to enter.

  The spirit hostess effortlessly led the others through the castle—reciting details of each room they passed along the way. After an eerie stroll down a torch-lit corridor filled with unfamiliar works of famous Disney villain art, such as Ursula the Sea Witch, Maleficent, the evil Queen from Snow White and numerous others, they came upon a bat patterned, spiral staircase forged in black iron.

  “So what’s with all the villain art?” Michael asked.

  “They are mainly here for inspiration,” the spirit replied.

  “Inspiration?” Who would want to be inspired by roll models like that?” Michael spat out.

  “Someone you are about to meet,” she said, turning and gesturing towards the staircase with an open hand. “Please, follow me…and, watch your step.”

  “Someone we’re about to meet?” Michael asked with a quizzical expression.

  Midnight and the boys cautiously followed the spirit down the winding staircase—the temperature rising with each step. As they reached the last few stairs it became very apparent why.

  Opening up before them was an expansive underground passage with towering tree-like, stone pillars. The pillars were sculpted with ravens and thorny vines, and supported three stories of dark corridors on the right. On the left was an elevated walkway, where lava surrounding the castle, flowed along the jagged banks.

  As they walked along the lava banks, Charlie, his brother and Midnight continued to look around. High above on the ceiling was a painted mural of creatures peering out from behind stones, bushes and trees—silhouetted by the crescent moonlight on the far right side of the enormous painting. Only their eyes were clearly visible. Unlike other paintings, the creatures in the shadows on the ceiling appeared to be quietly moving—following along, as Charlie and the others passed by.

  The spirit hostess turned towards the sixth corridor on the first level and quietly continued on. The others followed, including two Giggletorians, making sure the Patron team did not try and escape.

  The corridor was dust-covered and web-filled. Midnight sneezed, as did Michael, then Charlie. The narrow hall was dimly lit by low-flamed torches on the walls. One hundred feet down the hallway, the spirit stopped and turned to face a door on her left. She waved her left hand and the solid metal door slowly opened. Everyone entered, went up a tall flight of stairs, turned right, walked across and elevated walkway, turned left, went up another flight of stairs, then turned right again and walked thirty more feet. On their left was a wooden door, with the “S” emblem they had seen earlier, carved into the center of an ornate, rose bush pattern.

  Charlie, Michael and Midnight had lost all sense of direction.

  “Any idea where we are?” Charlie whispered to the cat.

  Before he could answer, the door latch clicked, then creaked open. A large, thin figure, sitting in a stone-sculpted throne resembling a dragon, sat well beyond the doorway. The identity of the figure was masked by a hooded, black cloak. To the left and right of the throne sat two green flame torches.

  It took all of Charlie’s youthful eyesight to try and make out who, or possibly even what, sat in the dimly lit room before them.

  The seated figure raised its skinny blue arm and flicked a bony hand.

  The spirit hostess vanished into thin air.

  The black cloaked figure raised its other arm, and clinched its bony fist.

  Suddenly, Midnight and the boys were pulled through the doorway and into the center of the circular room by an unexplainable force of dark magic.

  The mysterious figure dropped its arms quickly—the door behind them slammed closed, leaving the Giggletorians outside to stand guard. The others stood trapped inside the room against their will.

  The cloaked figure snapped its boney fingers and the green torches grew taller and brighter, exposing the three shadow villains, Flamario, Mr. Jollysnaps and the silver fox, who were sitting along the right side wall. Eagerly, they awaited the fate of their victims, who were about to be dealt with by the dark figure seated before them.

  Midnight stepped ahead of the boys to offer protection. Not knowing what to expect.

  Slowly, the tall rail-like figure stood up from the throne, lowering the hood concealing their identity.

  “Oh…oh no,” Midnight said softly.

  “What? What is it?” Charlie asked.

  “Go ahead, Mr. Kitty, tell them…tell them what you know,” the pale, blue-skinned figure with large black eyes said with a stone cold stare.

  “It…it’s D…Dar…Dark….Dark Thorn S…Sen…Senkrad. One of FOTO’s dark leaders.”

  “Oh, come now kitty, you make it sound so negative?” Senkrad replied.

  Reading the expression on Midnight’s face, Charlie’s stomach began to turn. Inside, he could sense great danger. He tried his hardest to be strong, if not for himself, then for his younger brother, Michael. It was their first time coming face-to-face with a Dark Thorn. “What do you want? Why are we here?” the outsider demanded.

  “I think you already know the answer to that question, boy,” Senkrad said in an gravelly tone.

  “Maybe I do. But, I don’t know?, maybe what I’m thinking, and what you are thinking, are two different things,” Charlie snapped back.

  “Come off it boy, we both know that watch around your wrist is much more than an ordinary watch.”

  “What, this old thing?” Charlie said as he held up his arm. “Why, it’s nothing but a beat up timepiece my grandfather gave me.”

  “Please boy, don’t try and play me for a fool. I can see and hear all that goes on within the realms of WONDER. And one thing I know for certain is that the watch around your wrist is indeed an Object of Magic. And that, boy, is about to become quite unfortunate for you AND your little friends.”

  Senkrad stepped back then lifted his arms quickly towards the ceiling, palms up. The green flame torches shot upwards—then out and around, Charlie, Michael and Midnight. The Dark Thorn threw his arms to the right, and the flames pulled tight, restraining the three figures. He threw his arms upwards and the flames lifted them high above the ground, as they kicked their legs and swung their arms—helpless against Senkrad’s powers.

  The flames continued to swirl around its victims, still holding them tightly, humming, popping and cracking, as they lowered Charlie and the others back towards the ground. Senkrad approached Charlie. “So boy, would you like to…change your story and hand over the watch? Or, would you and your helpless friends like to endure more pain?”

  “D…Don’t…do it,” Midnight said—barely able to get his words out.

  Charlie looked at the cat, then his brother, who nodded in approval. “Not a chance.”

  Senkrad looked at the boy with no emotion, then turned and took several steps. “Very well, if that is your wish.” Spinning around quickly, the Dark Thorn thrust his open palms towards the threesome. The green flames grew brighter and tightened their grip—causing Charlie and the other two to grunt, moan and scream out in pain.

  “Urrraaaaah! I’m…n…not…giv…giving you th…the…watch. No matter what you do to me,” Charlie shouted.

  “YOU will, boy. Indeed, you will,” Senkrad snapped back.”

  “Or what? You’re not even real. Why…why you couldn’t do anything to me in the real world.”

  The Dark Thorn flew across the room, mere inches from Charlie’s face. He stared into his youthful eyes, wanting to intimidate the boy. “No matter, I can do plenty to you HERE.”

  The shadow villain’s dark eyes lit up with excitement. />
  Senkrad clenched his right fist, the flames tightened around their bodies even more. The Dark Thorn reared back then made a throwing motion with his right arm, sending the flames, along with Charlie, Michael and Midnight, over the balcony behind his throne and down into a holding cell below—they smashed against the back wall and were knocked unconscious. The iron door slammed closed behind them, as the green flames released their grip and returned to the torches.

  “Hey, young fella, wake up,” a familiar voice said.

  “Huh?” Charlie replied, blurry-eyed and fuzzy-brained from their encounter with Senkrad.

  “It’s me, Featherwink. You know, the little purple guy with wings.”

  “Whah? Purple frog…wings…oh…right,” Charlie said.

  Tink-tinkety-tink-tink-tink!

  Something fell from Charlie’s pocket, waking his brother and Midnight.

  “Hey, who…who’s making all that racket,” Midnight asked. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

  Michael looked down, as did the others, and said while pointing, “It’s the icicle. The one the snow fairy gave you.”

  “Where?” Charlie asked.

  “Behind you, over there by the wall,” Featherwink said.

  Charlie turned around and spotted the magic icicle laying on the ground.

  “Hey, Feathewink, when did you get here?” Michael asked.

  The outsider picked up the magic icicle—admiring its flawless details.

  “Ohhh, I arrived quite some time before the three of you,” the frog replied. “That sneaky snake gave me a good smack with his tail end when I wasn’t looking, and when I woke up, I was here.”

  “What did Neve say about the icicle?” Midnight asked Charlie.

  “She said that if we ever needed her help, to hold it in my hand and call her name.”

  “Who? What…what are you talking about?” Michael said. His mind still focused on Featherwink’s story.

  “The magic icicle the snow fairy gave me, you nitwit. She said that if we ever needed her help, all I had to do was hold it in my hand and call her name.”