:"Tick . Tock."

By Kyle Loucks

Warning: Contains hoarse language.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The iridescence of Jake's dreams had been shattered by a perpetual metronome.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

Jake lay there. The cold, grated metal reminded him of the time he once had a grotesque mark of mosquito bite, and his feeble attempts scratching at it with a cheese grader. Not the smartest thing he ever had done. We all learn from our past mistakes, do we not?

He learned that grated and barbed metal against skin caused pain.

"Grah…." He moaned, his back arching while his tried hand felt the back of his head. There was blood. "….what the….hell…." Cough Cough. Blood sputtered past his lips and he felt the room spin. "God….damnit….." Jake moaned in aggravation. He couldn't remember what happened. He couldn't remember any past events…. Hell, he could hardly remember his name.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Jake's eyes attempt to cope with the surrounding darkness, but utterly failed. His head throbbed and constantly screamed at him 'STOP! STOP! STOP!' The feeling was that in common to the after effects of being smashed in the head, repeatedly, then having lemon juice poured into your eye-sockets in effort to tenderize your brain. You ever try mixing lemon juice with funky brain-chemicals? Its most likely to make for a spectacular show.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"What the hell!?" He screamed, voice echoing out into the blackness above him. The only sound to greet him though was the reverberation of his very own voice. Calling back as if to mock him in his fallen state….and of course an ever so distant sound of:

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Jake's head slowly rose off the cheese-grader grating. A few drops of blood from the back of his head fell through and pattering onto it with an eerie echo, what doesn't hit seems to fall into a pit of opaque. It sounded like someone had left the sink on just a tad. He sat up. "……?" Dancing vision provided him with an utmost inaccurate visual of his holding. Hallway. Faded brown wallpaper, looking like the feces-prince went to town on interior decorating. Onward, endless dark. Grating.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"What the fuck did I land…..shit……" The gash in the back of Jake's head throbbed for a moment, before the pain sent it into numbness. The boy's eyes wandered over the hall's, pupils dilating for thought of nightmare. He'd just wake up soon, right? He just had crashed his car, and was in the hospital, waiting to come out of a freaky unconsciousness that looked like it was right out of the mind of Stephen King! That was it! That's what happened!

As Jake got himself to a comfortable sitting position, he inspected his white T. Dirt and wrinkled beyond belief, but otherwise completely fine, next checking his blue-jeans…..a scrape here and there, but good! Besides the gash in the back of his head, he was pretty much fine! For now, he wouldn't worry about that though. He would worry about 1. Where he was? 2. How'd he get there? 3. What the FUCK is going on?

"Hello?" Nothing.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

"Anyone down there…?" Still nothing.

Tock. Tick. Tick. Tock.

"C'mon, someone's got to be around!" Nothing again.

Tick. Tick. Tock. Tock

"Fuck it…."

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Jake rose from the grating, his 3 year old sneakers made a delightful squeaking noise as if they were ever so happy to finally be used to depart of this place. They broke an uneasy silence that made startled the lad.

Jake looked over his arms for anymore bruises or cuts. Nope. Just some rust from the cheese-grader grating. He flexed a muscle, a small vain popping out of his athletic built arm. Good. It was in working order. So were his legs.

"Alright…" His hands drifted to his front pocket. Bingo. Cell phone. A smile crossed over Jake's features. Like a kid right about to see Santa Clause on Christmas Eve. "Heellll yeahhhh….!" Jake melodramatically over dramatized as if he was on a Cingular commercial. The phone flipped open with a 'Snap' and warmed to life, taking it's time whilst wakening up because Jake had startled it from it's nap. Jake dare not move, he barely breathed! It was like a total thrill ride! He'd finally be able to use those 'In case of Emergency" numbers! The phone buzzed to life, a nice welcoming tune played on his ears. Something of a Windows Start-up melody. Then there was another bell, a warning bell from the phone.

No service.

"DAMNIT! FRICKEN NO-SERVICE AREA!!" Jake shouted in utter frustration, hurling the phone down the hallway-o-death like hurling a javelin to save his life.

There was silence, with the exception of the now familiar sound.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock

Jake sighed heavily. Truth be told, he was a little edgy alone in the dark….in a hallway of death…. This whole ordeal reminded him of countless movies and books he had read. All the protagonists were normal people, and the only real antagonist was themselves! Jake nodded as if assuring himself. "Yeah…." And, just like that, he began a steady stride into the darkness in front of him.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tick.

His feet echoed on the ground. The apprehension caused his senses to heighten, as well as his sight to finally adjust to the darkness. It felt like someone was walking with him. Only his shadow though...but what the heck was causing this light to cast said shadow?

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The hallway stretched on for what seemed like forever. Vague thoughts of 'The Matrix' played through his mind, causing him to chuckle just a bit while his mind lingered on other thoughts. "What the hell was he doing there, walking into nothing-ness?" Was one of them.

The walls around him passed and passed by. Features sometimes changing, something a few consecutive features. He could have sworn he saw an indentation of a hand, and then a few steps later, he saw two hands imprinted on the same side of the wall. Both were just reaching out, as if they were trying to find their way in this dark. How he wished he wasn't such a moron and had his cell phone. He could have at least used the light!

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

What the hell was that ticking!?!?! It was getting on his nerves! This whole package lost its plight of creepiness, now the never ending hall of illusion and the magical clock-that-won't-stop were starting to piss him off!

He really couldn't deal with it anymore.

He began to run.

"SHUUUTTTT UUUPPPPP!!!" He shouted at the tops of his lungs.

Tick. Tock. Tock. Tick.

Endless figures pass him by on his run. The walls even seem to grow darker with them, like a city mural that just didn't know when to quit. There just was no end!!!

Jake stopped for a breather, panting like a grey hound at the tracks. That is, until his sense of smell finally kicked in. He gagged. "Oh my god….what is that…?" He muffled through his wrist while his hand caught his nose and lips in an insufficient barrier. The only way he could describe it is as followed. Death, with a strong citric nostril burn of lime. A rot and grim so powerful, there was no doubt in heaven he was close to hell, or a recently burned down mortuary.

The lime-scented death crept it's way up into Jake's nostrils, burning and tormenting the membrane within. It was very much like letting a bunch of mini-pilgrims into his nose and telling them that ever hair in there was created by witchcraft. The Salem Witch trial, front row seats, in the poor boy's nose and filtering into his sinus and throat. Another gag emits. "Gah….nose….." A whooping cough "…no…stop…"

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Jake vomited and fell to the floor. He couldn't see, but could have sworn it was blood that came from his mouth.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

His vision began to blur.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

Blood seeped from his lips. Thoughts on blood vomit confirmed. The stench continued to burn at his insides like one-hundred percent alcohol to an infant's stomach.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The darkness shifted somewhat.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Jake moaned, scrunching himself up into a ball on the stretched cheese-grader.

Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick.

Then, suddenly, a light scraping noise. Up on the bleak horizon of the hallway-o-death, a small spec of light appeared. "Oh….no…" Jake whined with a feeble attempt to get to his feat. Un-successful. He laid there, just watching this spec slowly increase in sound, size and brightness. The object (?) sounded like someone dragging a plastic container on the ground. Like a Tupperware or something. For a moment, Jake's mind whisked him off to thoughts of a commercial he had seen. "Don't get mad…Get glad…." He muttered under his breath with an incoherent chuckle. Loosing it. This was too much for one lone person to bare.

The scraping continued and the light came closer.

"You…STAY AWAY!" Jake warned with a pathetic, three-year old's whine. There was no sugar coating it. Petrifying fear with a side of deathly thoughts.

"Errrrrrccchhhhhhhhhhh." The spec taunted as it drew closer. The boy's eyes were fixed open, un-blinkable. He started muttering something that sounded like a prayer when the thing finally collided with him, smashing him in the nose.

It was his phone.

TWHACK! Right in the face! "OW!" Jake recoiled with a whimper. Was the thing drawn to him?!?! How- "What the hell is going on!?!?!" Break-down. He sobs into himself, occasionally sniffing up his bloody nose, caused by the haunted phone. Tears rolled down his face and plummeted into the darkness below him. "Why!?!" A scream into the darkness. But of course, no answer.

Tock. Tock.

The phone rang. A polyphonic Theme of Spiderman began to echo throughout the hall.

Tick. Tick.

The lcd-screen read "Mom".

Tock. Tock.

The background pick showed his mother, smiling pleasantly. He had taken that picture on her birthday earlier that month.

Tick. Tick.

Though now she had hollowed holes where her eyes should have been.

Tock.

Jake screamed. The ring rang louder. A cacophony of shrill and Spiderman now present in this level of hell. The lcd grew brighter.

The darkness began to fill up, overpowering Jake's vision completely.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

Then, silence. Everything recoiled and fell back into place, leaving just a pale, shaking, teen with soiled loins.

"One Missed Call." The LCD chimed. Jake sighed, whether it was because that little episode was over, or because he had his phone back, he didn't know. He didn't know much anymore, or at least he figured that he didn't know much…because of nothing quite making sense at the moment. What's more, the service bars on the phone began to steadily rise.

"Now entering service area." The LCD read. Jake could hear the monotone voice of the phone in his head echo over the intercom of his mind. Much that of a pilot of a commercial airline, trying to assure the frantic and crazed passengers that it was indeed just turbulence and that the back engine had NOT just burn out. Calm and invigorating. The little people in Jake's mind plopped themselves back down in their seats and obeyed the illuminant red sign that coaxed them to strap themselves in.

The pilot's voice was quiet for a moment. Five seconds maybe. Not enough time for the backlight to turn off. The boy lay there idly, just staring into the illuminant glow that was comparable to the taunting gates of heaven at this point, when the seatbelt light in Jake's mind clicked on. His blood froze as the pilot spoke again.

"One New Voice Mail." The Pilot chimed in his steady voice. Jake expected the oxygen mask to fall down in front of him. His breath was stolen away. The little passengers were roused again. Jake expected one of them to set their shoe on fire and take control, leading the Jake-Airline on a course for utter madness. Who could have left a message in this place? Could it have been his mother? Could it really all be a strange hallucination? Was he jumped at some point today and injected with a decent amount of acid that dropped his mind into hell?

He hoped so.

Tick….tock….tick….tock…

The metronome was slower now.

Tick…tock….tick….tock…

Jake could feel his palms ice over with frozen sweat. Flight attendants would stand no chance with this rowdy bunch of Jake-Airline customers. It was as if he had just been stripped of all body heat, central cooling turned to full. There was nothing inside him that produced some sort of warmth for him to cling to. Vivid thoughts of a caveman held in place by the glacier that encases him.

Tick… Tick… Tick… Tick….

Either an act of bravery, curiosity or his urge to take control of the flight drove him too reach for the phone, maybe a bit of all three.

Tick…tick….tick….tick….

With his constant perspiration, there was momentary difficulty while trying to pick up this Devil's Intercom. Eventually, after a good rub to that trusty denim, the phone found itself in the clutches of its rightful master. The one who pays the bill. The one who has the recite.

Jake flipped his phone open and dialed the voice mail. The phone was HOT! Not just warm, but HOT!!! "Jeez!" Jake whimpered, clasping the phone in two hands. He hadn't an explanation for this and quite frankly, he didn't want one. All he really wanted was to get out of here!

Jake dialed the numbers, was met with a few "bring brings" and was answered by the automated-voice messenger. Her cool and calm secretary voice unbalanced him completely, his palms iced over with sweat. Jake could have sworn that at least one of the passengers in his little aircraft had been shot with a firearm.

"Welcome to voice mail, you have….one new message." She chimed.

"Here goes…" Jake muttered, pressing the receiver to his ear. He didn't want to hear anything. He didn't want to hear anything. What he did want was to be far away from here. Somewhere without the linger of death, sorrow and agony. Somewhere with a lot more…. 'happy'.

Jake got his wish.

Met by silence, the boy lay there unable to speak for a few seconds. The phone clicked off. The metronome stopped. The passengers returned to their seats, buckled up and slept soundly. Everything had gone to a null. It seemed as if a heavy burdened was lifted from this death-hall and cast away into the darkness below it. It was if everything stopped.

Jake lay their like a corpse for what seemed like hours. Limbs sprawled out, eyes gazing up towards the ceiling, an indifferent look plastered on his face. Did this place really get to him? Maybe. That might've been it. Jake's mind rambled on thoughts but eventually gave up with explanation. All he knew was that for some odd reason, he was pretty damn tired. A wave of exhaustion swept over him in an almost miraculous heal. All ailments of sickness he felt had faded. There was no more vomiting or anything. Jake lay there, just waiting for the cold embrace of death, or maybe the wind flowing past him as he too plummeted into that great abyss below him.

What he got was a jolt of electricity to the chest.

"Clear!" Shouted a masked man enshrouded in a robe of green, followed by a substantial amount of electricity to Jake's chest.

Jake's eyes blew open.

"Finally! I think the kid's gonna do alright…" The strange green-man said with a relieved sigh. "He pulled through." The strange green-man began to walk away into another area enshrouded by white tile and flashy gizmos and proceed to celebrate with other of his kind for a brief moment before disappearing completely. The next voice he would here was the voice of his mother, who had been weeping on the side.

"Oh Jake! Oh, I'm so glad you're okay!" She wrapped her arms around her son, causing the boy to singe in pain. His muscles hurt. Of course, Jake couldn't really respond. He hadn't a clue what was going on yet.

"Don't worry about the test, Honey. You can take it next year, no harm to that!" His mother cried out, throwing subject of his health out the window.

The test…what was the... –Oh! "The SAT'S!?!?" Jake shrieked in sure horror, right after falling back into his stretcher. His vision blurred and he thought he would vomit. He had been preparing and preparing for his second time taking the SAT's for a year. He couldn't mess it up this up-

"Jake, honey. They're over…" His mother cooed him as if he was a five year old.

"O-….over…? They can't be over!" Jake's shouted, heart starting to pound. "They can't!" Jake gasped for air, but couldn't find it and panicked even more. He concentrated…attempted to calm himself just a little…and was fine.

"Wh-….what happened…?" He uttered out in a whimper. The pain on the back of his head began to surface once more.

"Why, you got so nervous over your test today that you passed out and cracked your head on the floor. You had a small stroke simultaneously, as well, sweetie. Have you been taking your medicine?" His mother smiled in that tender, mother smile.

Jake nodded as if commanded too. Was he…really just dreaming? That usually doesn't happen to protagonists in such a situation he was in! He whisked away lucky on that one.

"Yeah…"His mother sighed, twisting a finger in her blond locks idly. "You were taking it in the music room…and the teacher there put on a metronome or something…." His mother seemed to fall off into space, beginning just to stare.

Meanwhile, Jake went wide-eyed. The metronome…it was on the IV machine right next to him. The tempo was slow and rhythmic. "Test, test, test, test…." Jake whispered in perfect beat.

Darkness followed.

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.