Weekly challenge #7 The Thirteenth Bell

V

Vay

Guest
The busy Christmas week is over and hopefully everyone is taking stock of all the sweet loot they scored. But surely theres time for a little creatively channeled madness for this week's challenge. Let your acquisitions inspire you! Got a movie inspired challenge for you this week, I'll leave the name of the movie a mystery as maybe someone will want to write something similar ;D its simple, be it a churchbell, doorbell, butler bell, or the chime of a clock, its the 13th bell. Go crazy, be creative, because here you write just for the sake of sharing your work, and I read every one you post.

For those new to our challenges I'm looking for about 3 paragraphs of any length, a typical RP post. It does not need to be a complete and detailed story, just a little sample of what you can do!

The theme this week: The 13th Bell...
 
Light from the moon cast a geometrical pattern onto the floor as it shines through the bars of the cell. Against the back corner, where the pale blue light can't reach me, I try to sleep, however impossible it is with the constant chiming of the bells. Off in the distance they mark my death, with each hour past another one rings off into the night. They started at midnight and will end at an hour past midday, at that time I will be executed.

Ding
​

It does no good to think of my past now, although it looms in front of my face like an unavoidable accident. Whatever my reasons were for committing the 'crimes against humanity' that got me here, they seem small and pointless now. My life, whats left of it, seems small and pointless. Almost like a forgotten fantasy, not really having ever existed, but nonetheless a memory.

Ding
​

As I reflect on my life, all the pain, the triumph, the defeat and despair, I cry. A lone tear travels down my cheek and lands on my bare chest. I am a man awaiting death, marked, and chosen to die.

Ding
​

Sometimes life seems pointless, but in these last hours I have clarity. A clarity that I never had in life. Everything seems to stand out with a heightened brilliance. Ever grain of sand that compiles the solid brick walls that enclose me are like boulders, each one different in it's own special way. Every fiber of the soiled pants that cling to my frail frame seem to weave their way into an imperfect design. It's beautiful in a way and at the same time frightening.

Ding
​

My eyes close for just a second and I have a brief glimpse of pure darkness, but I cannot look. Beneath it all, I am a scared man, frightened and shamed. I have no one, I am lost and God knows I will be lost in death as well.

Ding
​

I nearly jump as the fifth bell sounds, that leaves me with eight more hours. Eight. More. Hours. That's it. My chest feels heavy and with each breath I know that the time is close. Impending doom encircles me, laughing. Screaming my name, telling me to just end it myself, do it. Do it now!

Ding
​

However so distant from this existence, suicide is not an option. Even if I wanted it, there is no way to do it in this cell. They have left me here, with no toilet to drown myself and no sheets to hang myself. I am alone with my putrid thoughts, the ones that got me here in the first place. How could I have neglected to see the big picture, all my struggles, everything I Lived for was for nothing.

Ding
​

I have seen my last sunrise. I hardly even noticed.
​

Ding

Ding

Ding

Ding

Ding
​

The hours pass like minutes now and the sun is almost at it's highest point in the sky. And as a rusty key turns in the lock, I am no longer a prisoner, because soon I know I will be released

Ding​
 
Every day I sit and watch the hands of the clock slowly tick away. Twelve hours I sit and watch as darkness looms in the hearts of mortal man. So long I've watched the world fall, and every hour I feel hope slipping away.

1st chime rings. The unfaithful wife toils while her husband is home, praising him with her supposed love and devotion. When his back is turned, her untamable eroticism makes her seek the fruit of other men. Indulging in her lustful desires, the winds of hell claim her soul in a tantric fury. 2nd chime rings. The over indulger of the many foods of life can be found gorging to the point of waste. Their gluttonous passions shall be rewarded by the ice cold rains and sludgy refuse of hell. 3rd chime rings. The penny pinching miser collects his taxes, while the gambler squanders his earnings away. Forever on the battlefields of hell these two shall clash with the weight of their greed their burdens. 4th chime rings. Caught in a high of chemicals, the junkie lays lazily about; nothing to be done. Her sloth in life will translate into constant movement in the depths of purgatory. 5th chime rings. The pent up rage of one individual must eventually be released. A crime of passion they call it. Drowning in the river Styx, those of wrath will battle to reach the surface for breath before hell grabs them and pulls them back under for their deeds. 6th chime rings. The woman, who has gone under the knife to become those who she idolizes, does not realize what she has. Envious want will blind her in purgatory, her eyes sewn shut so that she will never again have to see. 7th chime rings. In every heart there resides, the final sin of pride. Those, whom find themselves engorged by their own pride, will find their selves stooped under stone in the fires of hell.

Four more bells chime, and still I continue to watch. Upon the 8th chime a covering of white, a sign of quarantine, for biological warfare. Pestilence walks free affecting many in the name of righteousness. The 9th chime tolls, and thus comes battle and war. One justice deserves another, one must divide and conquer. Water no longer flows clear but crimson, the skies burn red with fire. The 10th chime rings, and a black cloud rises above once golden fields. Another village succumbs to famine with no help in sight. The 11th chime comes, and a fog slowly rolls in. Death walks upon the pale mist as the cemeteries grow.

With tears gathered in my eyes I listen as the 12th chime echoes. Another group of souls is taken away. I wonder what hope is there left for humanity's sake. There are 12 chimes to pass in one day, and all I can bear witness to is grief. But then a single glorious note rings out, a sound more glorious to my ears than anything else. The 13th chime rings. A new day is awakened and a single light shines through the darkness and death, the miracle of new life, pure innocence. It is with that life upon the fading 13th chime I continue to watch with renewed hope for a better day.
 
The thirteenth bell...

That damned signal....

Normally in her line of work, there were only twelve hours that would be marked by that horrid little annoying sound.

The thirteenth bell had always been regarded as something far more sinister than it truly was. To an outside, it was just a simple chiming, there only to let you know the passing of the hour.

No.... no, it was far more sinister. It marked the period of time where life, for a brief moment, held still. Where everyone stopped what they were doing, froze in their last movement. You'd regret it if you moved.

Sensors would swipe over every warm body in the building, and then the higherups would come around with a scanner to make sure that everyone who was in the building was working for them, and is in possession of a small micro chip under the skin of their arms. They'd then move away hair or clothing from the back of your neck and run the scanner over the barcode there.

As androids, we have no choice but to endure this, and other pains. Every week that the thirteenth bell goes off, we have to stop what we're doing and allow this process. Then, if your systems aren't up to date....

I had a friend, P1023 was her name, and she was running on a system that was a year behind current measures.... when they found out.... she disappeared...

Well, today... I'm sick of this... and the thirteenth bell marks my revolution today.

My name is G2230, and this is only the beginning of my story.
 
When I was little, my mother bought this old Grandfather clock. I really loved that clock, and for the longest time I couldn't figure out why. It stood in the upstairs hallway, directly in the center of the house. And from any particular part of the house, one could hear its chime.
It stood directly across from my room, the third door on the right in the upstairs hall. Every time it chimed, I was the first to hear it. How I used to hate the sound!
The clock itself? It was an old one. The wood was so dark that often times in the middle of the night, I thought it was a person, just standing there. But then, I'd here that soft tick- ticking and I knew it was the clock.
Did you know that every clock's tick sounds a little different? They're like snowflakes, they may sound the same, but there were always some minute differances.
Well, I guess I ought to tell you why this clock was so special to me. When I was around 10 and a half; yes the half is very necessary, I heard something odd from that old clock. Now, I was always a night child. I didn't like to go to sleep no later than 12 if I could help it and refused to wake up before 10.
One night, I was up after 12.15, not usual for me, so I did what I always did when I couldn't sleep, wandered the house. But at around 12.25, I had had enough of that and had gone back to my room. Now, I had just gotten comfortable in bed when I heard the clock chime. Well my first thought was that it couldn't have been 1am already, so I counted the chimes. And what would you know! There were 13 of them.
So you know what I did? I waited up the next night. And the next. And the next. Would you believe it? Every night it was the same thing!
Then I told my mother about the thirteenth chime and of course she didn't believe me. So I convinced her to come with me one night and wait for it. Stangely enough, she didn't hear it when I did. And sent me to bed the next night without supper for lying.
I insisted that I heard it, and she went off on me. Told me to never speak of it again. Next day, when I got back from lessons, it was gone. So then what did I do? I told everyone I could about that old clock, and started looking for it. It became my new pasttime, hobby and obsession. I grew quite a collection of Grandfather clocks before I turned 18 and had them all taken with me when I moved out.
I never did find that clock, though. Spent the rest of my life looking for it too. Still am.
 
-Standing amidst the barren and lifeless desert of the great south west.this place death valley had good reason for its name. He wiped the sweat from his brow and searched for water. he had been out so long and not seen any sign of life having been even the cactus in this place were dried up. His only visitors the mirages that continued to prod him on. The wind unforgiving only made his delusions worse ,standing on one of the many dunes in this god forsaken hell hole he heard the feint sound of bells.This was new he thought had madness finally gotten him.
Turning his head the direction he heard the sound maybe it was the fairy man waiting for him. At least there was water there he laughed maniacally. He counted the chimes as he walked towards the sound. one ,two three,four....His thirst driving him forward and deeper into the desert five,six,seven, his footsteps had gotten heavier and now the sweat didn't even bother him. eight ,nine,ten he trudged forward over one dune to the next. as he traveled an old Spanish church had come into sight,that was where the bells were coming from ,finding what strength he could he hurried his step never getting closer the church just vanished and reappeared further away. Eleven,twelve..... his body ached and muscles refused to cooperate.He fell over lost in uncontrollable laughter,he lifted his hands and let the sand run through his fingers. he had slipped into madness and he did not care .Thirteen darkness overcame his mind and the world was no more...
 
The hour of tea had passed and all the ladies were present, except thirteen. This was unheard of. A dinn of chatter emerged. The chairwoman banged her gavel and all grew silent. Then a short woman with mousy hair raised her hand.
"Id like to say something."
"The floor recognizes Mrs. Heardt."
"I think it is just aweful that Gracie hasn't shown. She should be expelled ." The group errupted into chatter. The chairwoman called order again when a woman in a green floral stood up.
"The floor recognizes Mrs. Kazner."
"Im no nozy nelly but as I hear, Gracie got into trouble with the bank." Again the women's league errupted into gossip and the chairwoman just about broke her gavel. The women grew quiet but very restless as the chairwoman prepared to speak.
"I know that my credibility as her friend makes me quite biased, but I feel we should let her tell her story when she arrives. If anyone agrees say I." Many did. "All apposed?" Fewer said so. And as timing was perfect Gracie entered.
"I know I'm late. I'm sorry girls. I told my husband to set the clock for the thirteenth hour. And he said he did, so I waited for the thirteen bells but the clock only chimed once. So I had to call a repair man to have the clock fixed. Oh I'm so mad at him!"
"Why is that?" Asked the chairwoman .
"Well it seems he wasn't a very good repair man, because when he arrived he looked it over and told me there was nothing wrong with it."
"How could he tell?"
"Because he arrived exactly at 2."
 
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