🕰️ Five Minute Fright: “The Watcher’s Gift”

🎩 The Nightly Storyteller

> “Time is the cruelest of currencies.

We spend it without thought, we beg for more, and we always lose it in the end.

But every so often… time gives something back.

A second chance.

A warning.

Or, in this case—one final act of gratitude.”

---

The rain had finally stopped by the time Evan left the funeral.

He stood at the edge of the cemetery, hands in his coat pockets, watching as the groundskeeper lowered the last bouquet onto the fresh soil. His elderly neighbor, Mr. Harker, had lived alone for years—quiet, kind, and always ready with a story about “the good old days.”

When the two became neighbors, Evan often helped with groceries, yard work, and fixing things around the house. Harker didn’t have much, but he always said, “You’ve given me the one thing no one else has, son—your time.”

Two days later, a small box arrived in the mail.

The return label: H. Harker.

Inside, wrapped in soft cloth, was an old pocket watch—its gold casing aged, the glass face cracked, but still ticking. A handwritten note accompanied it:

> “My grandfather gave me this when I was your age.

He said it would always keep me safe as long as I used my time well.

I don’t have much left to give, but this belongs with you now.

—H.”

Evan smiled, touched, and placed the watch on his dresser near the bedroom door before heading out to run errands and meet friends for dinner.

---

When he returned later that night, the motion light flickered on. The garbage cans by the side of the house were tipped over, trash scattered like confetti. He sighed, muttering about raccoons, and started picking it up.

That’s when he heard it—a low growl, deep and wet, like something breathing through a throat too wide.

He froze.

The night was still.

Nothing moved.

Then—a whisper of motion. Grass shifting. Claws on gravel.

The hair on the back of his neck rose.

Evan turned, but the yard was empty. The silence was so heavy it pressed on his eardrums. He swallowed hard and backed toward the door. The moment he shut it—something slammed into it from outside.

Wood splintered. Metal bent. Scratching. Snarling. Something huge.

“Get away!” he shouted, grabbing a lamp. The scratching stopped. Then silence again.

He looked through the peephole. Nothing.

Until he heard it—footsteps upstairs.

Heart hammering, he crept up. His bedroom door was ajar, curtains billowing in from the open window. The air reeked of damp fur and rot.

Something moved.

A massive, humanoid cat-like creature, mottled with leopard spots and long claws, lunged. It slashed across his arm, knocking him backward.

Evan bolted into the bedroom, slamming the door and locking it, chest heaving. He reached for his phone—gone. Left in the car.

The creature rammed the door. Wood cracked. He grabbed his car keys and the gold coin he’d found earlier that week on the sidewalk—something he’d kept for luck—and hurled them at the door in panic.

The coin struck the watch on the dresser.

A brilliant light burst through the room—warm, golden, blinding.

Then—a voice. Calm. Gentle. Familiar.

> “It’s alright, son. You gave me your time. Now… let me return the favor.”

Through the light stepped a man of shimmering gold—his face ageless, his form flickering like a reflection on rippling water. He charged the creature, overpowering it with impossible strength. With a roar, he forced it back through the window.

The sound of shattering glass, a scream that seemed to tear through the night—and then, distant sirens.

Evan stumbled to the window, bleeding, dazed. Below, the yard was empty… except for the faint echo of something snarling as it fled into the dark.

And there—on the ground—the gold coin, spinning in the dirt before rolling away into the shadows.

---

🎩 The Nightly Storyteller (closing)

> “They say time heals all wounds.

But some moments never fade—they ripple, they echo, they watch.

Perhaps Mr. Harker’s gift wasn’t just gratitude…

Perhaps it was a warning that the past is never truly gone.

Especially when it still keeps time.”

---

🕯️ Five Minute Fright by The Nightly Storyteller

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And if you dare… tell me what you’d do if time decided to fight for you.”

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