Tiddles and the Watch….(IndustrialVersion)

dark industrial metal, dark folk electronica, cinematic dark metal

Tiddles didn’t consider himself a hero, but the thought of a giant bony monster ruining his peaceful graveyard—and potentially eating him—was enough to spark a sudden burst of feline courage. Ignoring the trembling ground and the terrifying clatter of shifting bones, he lowered his belly to the grass and charged.
The skeletal monster roared, a sound like grinding stones, and swung its massive hand. Tom the stray met the noise with an equally ferocious screech, leaping forward to swipe at the creature’s bony wrist. The distraction was exactly what Tiddles needed.
Tiddles leaped over a thick root, skidded through the damp mud, and launched himself at the glowing silver pocket watch. He landed squarely on top of it, using all his weight to slam his front paws down onto the open lid. Click.
The holographic salmon feast vanished. The strange, rhythmic hum cut out instantly, replaced by a sudden, heavy silence.
The giant skeletal hand froze mid-air, just inches above Tom's arched back. For a second, everything was still. Then, with a faint puff of grey dust, the bones crumbled into a harmless pile of ancient dirt, settling quietly back into the fissure in the earth.
Tiddles sat up, panting, his white paws covered in muck. He looked over at Tom. The grumpy stray lowered his fur, gave Tiddles a long, unblinking look that felt remarkably like respect, and then quietly slunk back into the shadows of the bushes without saying a word.
"Well, I'll be blowed," a voice chirped from above. The robin redbreast fluttered down, landing on the headstone right next to the now-silent watch. "You've actually got some backbone, haven't you, Tiddles?"
Before the robin could even finish his sentence, a dark shadow exploded from the nearby ferns.
Tom, the grumpy stray, had not gone home. He had merely been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. TBC

5000/7500

Tiddles and the pocket watch. Tiddles wandered through the graveyard, the local robin redbreast had been annoying him all morning. he was determined to at least put the frighteners on him even if it took all day. there was the usual bits and bobs around, a brown crinkled leaf to chase, the odd worm or two, even Tom, the local stray, but he decided to give him a wide berth due to the grumpy look he just got. as he turned past Major Wallace's tomb, there was a flash of light from the opposite grave. curious as cats invariably are, he trotted over to investigate what it was...would it be food?.....his tummy rumbled. The flash of light didn’t come from a discarded crisp packet or a piece of broken glass, as it usually did. As Tiddles nudged aside a thick patch of damp ivy covering the base of the headstone, he found the source. It was a small, ornate silver pocket watch, completely unscratched and ticking with a strange, rhythmic hum that vibrated right through his whiskers. But it wasn't the ticking that made his tummy rumble again—it was the unmistakable, rich aroma of roasted salmon wafting directly out from the tiny gaps in the silver casing. Tiddles tapped it tentatively with a white paw. The moment his pad touched the cold metal, the face of the watch clicked open. Instead of hands and numbers, a miniature, glowing hologram of a feast appeared, projecting just above the grass. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," a sharp, melodic voice chirped from above. Tiddles looked up, ears flattening. Sitting perfectly out of reach on top of Major Wallace’s marble angel was the robin redbreast, its bright eyes gleaming with what looked suspiciously like amusement. "You won't catch me today, Tiddles," the robin piped, tilting its head toward the glowing pocket watch. "But if I were you, I’d be much more worried about what you just woke up." The ground beneath Tiddles' paws gave a sudden, heavy shudder The rich smell of salmon evaporated instantly as the ground beneath Tiddles’ paws shifted. Forget the hologram—every survival instinct in his feline brain told him to move. With a startled yowl, he puffed his tail to three times its normal size and scrambled backwards, his claws tearing up chunks of moss. From the fissure in the earth, a massive, skeletal paw—far too large to belong to any regular cat—began to claw its way into the open air. "I did warn you!" the robin chirped safely from the marble angel, before taking flight and fluttering over to the perimeter wall. Tiddles backed away so fast he backed straight into a solid wall of fur. He whipped around, his heart hammering, only to find himself staring up at Tom, the grumpy stray. Tom wasn't looking at Tiddles, though. His yellow eyes were locked onto the rising skeletal figure, his back arched high and a low, rumbling growl vibrating through his throat. For once, Tom's grumpy disposition was exactly what Tiddles needed. Tom hissed fiercely, baring his fangs at the creature, which seemed to make the bony monster hesitate. "Hey, whiskers!" the robin called out, landing on a nearby low branch. "The watch! Close the watch or you're both toast!" Tiddles didn’t consider himself a hero, but the thought of a giant bony monster ruining his peaceful graveyard—and potentially eating him—was enough to spark a sudden burst of feline courage. Ignoring the trembling ground and the terrifying clatter of shifting bones, he lowered his belly to the grass and charged. The skeletal monster roared, a sound like grinding stones, and swung its massive hand. Tom the stray met the noise with an equally ferocious screech, leaping forward to swipe at the creature’s bony wrist. The distraction was exactly what Tiddles needed. Tiddles leaped over a thick root, skidded through the damp mud, and launched himself at the glowing silver pocket watch. He landed squarely on top of it, using all his weight to slam his front paws down onto the open lid. Click. The holographic salmon feast vanished. The strange, rhythmic hum cut out instantly, replaced by a sudden, heavy silence. The giant skeletal hand froze mid-air, just inches above Tom's arched back. For a second, everything was still. Then, with a faint puff of grey dust, the bones crumbled into a harmless pile of ancient dirt, settling quietly back into the fissure in the earth. Tiddles sat up, panting, his white paws covered in muck. He looked over at Tom. The grumpy stray lowered his fur, gave Tiddles a long, unblinking look that felt remarkably like respect, and then quietly slunk back into the shadows of the bushes without saying a word. "Well, I'll be blowed," a voice chirped from above. The robin redbreast fluttered down, landing on the headstone right next to the now-silent watch. "You've actually got some backbone, haven't you, Tiddles?" Before the robin could even finish his sentence, a dark shadow exploded from the nearby ferns. Tom, the grumpy stray, had not gone home. He had merely been waiting for the perfect moment to strike. TBC

0/500