Cleaning Time by Dani Carr

It's not a request.

It was always a process of dusting the old grandfather clock that sat in the large foyer.  If Fiona had her way, she’d let the ancient thing sit there and gather dust on every gear. But her employer, Mr. Thomas, a handsome but old-fashioned man, demanded she dust it, inside and out, every single day - and as he was the one paying her, she wasn’t inclined to argue.

So every day, when she finished cleaning the rest of the first floor - grand hall, dining room, and kitchen included - she went to the grandfather clock and opened its great glass case. She polished and shined the great gold medallion, she took a q-tip to the smiling sun and the sleepy moon, and she carefully oiled the gears.

So on the clock shined and oh how Fiona’s hands ached, but it kept Mr. Thomas happy. And that kept her employed, with money in her pockets, which meant Fiona was happy.

But one day, Mr. Thomas’ associates threw a large party, resulting in a full day of cleaning the first floor. The kitchen, the dining room, the grand hall, and even the foyer took hours each. Thus, Fiona reached the end of her day with only the grandfather clock left to clean.

But oh! How her knees ached, how her feet barked, how her back pulsed. Fiona was sure that Mr. Thomas wouldn’t notice one day without the clock cleaned. Especially not after a party that had left everything in such a state. Surely Fiona could go home and rest. Then she would clean the clock tomorrow, first thing.

So Fiona left the home of Mr. Thomas and returned to her apartment. She took a long hot shower and ate a good hot meal. She was just getting ready to turn in for the evening when her phone rang. She picked it up, surprised anyone would call her so late.

“Fiona!”

The voice hadn’t even waited for her to answer, so quickly it had barked her own name.

“Fiona, the clock! You didn’t clean the clock!”

Instantly, Fiona’s stomach twisted.

“Mr. Thomas, I’m sorry, but everything was such a mess. I promise I’ll clean it first -“

“You must come clean the clock!”

Now Fiona was growing frustrated. She had a life of her own and she was no servant. Who was he to treat her like dirt?

“Mr. Thomas, please be reasonable. I will return tomorrow morning and clean that ridiculous clock!”

“No! You must return tonight! The clock cannot creak! The clock cannot creak!”

“Fine! I will come and clean the clock, but I will not return another day!” Fiona hung up and got dressed, angry and hurt, but she made her way to the grand home of Mr. Thomas and his ancient clock.

She let herself in the front door, where she immediately saw it. The large clock with its glass case and its sun and moon. But strangely, the clock had already begun to tarnish. The hour hand was off by seven hours and signs of age had crept onto the clock’s face.

Fiona was shocked to see the clock looking so misshapen. She lifted her hand to open the glass case when she heard a low moan from upstairs.

“Fiona… Fiona…” the deep voice called. “Clean the clock, Fiona…”

Fiona looked up the staircase and what she saw there made her nearly cry out in fright.

Mr. Thomas was crawling down the stairs on all fours, his joints at strange angles. His cheeks and eyes were sunken and his mouth was drawn back in a strange grimace, his head tilted unnaturally. His entire countenance was ghoulish and corpse-like. He resembled a curled up spider clinging to a breath of life.

“Clean the clock…” Mr. Thomas moaned. “For if the clock creaks, so do I!”

for more brilliant works from Dani Carr, check out: @thisdanicarr on Instagram, @itsdanicarr on bluesky