The Clock of Memories

Episode 2: "Shadows of the Past"

The next day dawned shrouded in a thick fog that seemed to mirror Victor's state of mind. He got out of bed, still consumed by a mix of regret and confusion. The memory of what he saw in the basement lingered in his mind like an open wound. The images from Clara's birthday party, distorted and dark, wouldn’t leave him. What had he awakened by trying to change the past? And more importantly, what could he do to prevent things from getting worse?

He descended the stairs, where the smell of fresh coffee filled the air. Clara was already in the kitchen, seemingly calmer, but Victor knew that the weight of their conversation from the night before still hung between them.

“Good morning,” he said, trying to hide the storm brewing within. Clara turned, giving him a soft smile, but he could see the worry in her eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

“Not really,” he admitted. “I can’t stop thinking about everything.” The silence that followed was heavy, and Clara hesitated, as if choosing her words with care.

“Victor, we need to talk about this,” she finally said, her gaze steady on his. “About the clock. You need to decide whether you’re going to use it again.”

He nodded, but the weight of the decision felt overwhelming. Before he could respond, the phone rang. Clara answered, and soon her expression shifted from curiosity to concern. “It’s for you,” she said, handing him the phone.

“Hello?” Victor said, his voice hesitant. The voice on the other end was grave and familiar.

“Victor, it’s me, Marco,” the seller who had sold him the clock said. “We need to talk. It’s urgent.”

“Urgent?” Victor echoed, his heart racing. “About what?”

“About the clock. Can we meet?”

Victor glanced at Clara, who now looked even more worried. “Where?”

“At the shop. I’ll explain everything.”

After hanging up, Victor felt a wave of anxiety. He didn’t want to get involved with the clock any more than he already was, but the seller's call was irresistible. The weight of past choices still followed him like a shadow. “Clara, I need to go,” he said, already moving to grab his coat.

“You shouldn’t,” she protested. “That clock is dangerous.”

“I know, but I need to understand what’s going on. If something is wrong… I need to know.” Clara hesitated, then finally nodded, a look of concern etched on her face.

“Just don’t do anything rash,” she warned. “Please.”

Victor left the house and drove to the shop, his heart racing with each passing mile. Upon arrival, he noticed that the place felt darker than he remembered. The lights were dim, and the smell of dust lingered in the air. Marco was behind the counter, his dark eyes reflecting a mixture of anxiety and urgency.

“Victor,” he said, rising quickly. “The situation is worse than I thought.”

“What do you mean?” Victor asked, unease growing within him.

“The clock… it’s not just an object. It’s a door. And each time you go through it, something changes, but not just in your life.” Marco took a deep breath, as if bracing himself to reveal a secret. “You need to understand that every trip to the past can have consequences that affect not just you, but everyone around you.”

Victor felt a chill run down his spine. “I’ve already noticed that. I saw things I shouldn’t have seen.”

“And you shouldn’t have used the clock more than once. It was made for a single use. Each alteration creates an echo. And what you saw may only be the beginning.”

“What does that mean?” Victor asked, his mind racing. “What can I do to fix this?”

Marco hesitated before answering. “You need to confront what you did. The memory you revisited was not just a temporary alteration; it was a disturbance in the natural order of things. If you don’t deal with it, the consequences could be irreversible.”

“I… I saw my brother, Gabriel,” Victor said, his voice faltering. “He was there, and what I saw didn’t seem right. He shouldn’t have been present.”

Marco fell silent, his eyes narrowing. “Gabriel?” he finally said, his voice heavy with dark understanding. “You saw him? That shouldn’t have happened.”

“What do you mean by that?” Victor asked, alarmed. “He was my brother; I lost him! How can that be wrong?”

“Because, Victor, Gabriel is dead. Seeing his image in your memories is unnatural. What you witnessed may be a distorted representation, a consequence of altering the past.”

The weight of Marco’s words crashed down on Victor like an avalanche. He was on the brink of losing everything again. “I can’t lose anything more. I can’t.”

“Then you need to stop using the clock,” Marco insisted, urgency rising in his voice. “If you use it again, you could open a Pandora's box that can’t be closed.”

Victor’s determination began to waver, but the image of Gabriel, the memory of shared moments, pulled at him fiercely. “But what if it means I can save him?”

“You can’t. Trying to save him could cost you even more. You might not only lose your family, but also your grip on your own life.”

Victor felt trapped in a labyrinth with no exit. He wanted to understand, but the truth felt slippery. “What do I do now?” he asked, despair evident in his voice.

“Go home. Reflect on your choices. If you have the courage to face what really happened, perhaps you can figure out how to move forward.”

Victor left the shop, heart heavy and mind tumultuous. He glanced at the clock buried deep in his backpack, the temptation to use it pulsing in his veins. Doubt and guilt trailed him like shadows as he drove home.

Upon arrival, he found Clara and Ana in the living room. Ana was drawing, her hands smudged with paint, while Clara read a book. The scene was peaceful, but Victor’s anguish intensified. He wanted to protect this life, but the internal struggle between the desire to correct the past and the need to accept reality consumed him.

“Hi, Daddy!” Ana exclaimed, running toward him. Her smile was a balm for his soul, but the guilt over contemplating altering the timeline weighed heavier than ever. “Look, I drew a flower!”

Victor knelt, admiring her drawing. “It’s beautiful, Ana. You have an incredible talent.” Her innocence made him reflect on what was at stake. If he didn’t stop, everything could crumble.

As they talked, Victor felt Clara’s hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice gentle.

“Yeah, just thinking,” he replied, but the truth was that his thoughts were consumed by guilt and the pain of loss. “Clara, I… I want to do the right thing.”

She nodded, and Victor knew she understood the weight of his words. But the internal struggle was far from over. He needed to find a way to confront his demons before they devoured him.

That night, as he lay staring at the ceiling, unable to close his eyes, the voices in his mind grew louder, demanding resolution. He got up, determined. “I can’t let this go on,” he whispered to himself.

He made his way to the basement, where the clock awaited him, pulsing with a glow that felt almost hypnotic. “I need to know,” he said aloud, determination building inside him. “I can’t keep living in doubt.”

But as he approached, he hesitated. What could he discover? What would happen if he really used the clock again? He was about to cross a line that could change everything—and not just for him.

The memories of Gabriel, the echoes of his laughter, all felt so real. Victor took a deep breath and, with a surge of impulse, grabbed the clock. “If you’re with me, Gabriel, guide me.” The weight of the past and the cost of change became even more tangible as he prepared to make the hardest choice of his life.