Be honest, how many of you have actually heard about the Man with the Gold Watch before tonight? Thought so. Nobody ever does. Until they see him. And then it's either too late or you're one of the lucky ones who knew better.
I'm posting this because my grandfather told me this story when I was a kid, and last week I almost ran into the fucker for real. Almost looked him in the eye. My heart's still pounding when I think about it. You need to know this before you walk through any old business district past midnight.
Every city has one. I don't care if you're in New York, London, some shithole in Eastern Europe, or a "nice" little town with one cobblestone street and a clock tower that hasn't worked since the 80s. He's there. Waiting.
They call him different things. The Broker. The Late One. My granddad just called him "The Ded" like the Slavic word for grandpa, because that's what he looks like. Just some old man. Expensive coat, old-school leather shoes polished like mirrors, grey hair combed back like he's about to close a deal. Respectable. Out of place.
But the watch, anons. You'll notice the watch first if you're stupid enough to look up. Massive gold thing on a leather strap. Antique as fuck. And here's the thing - the hands never move. Ever.
Story goes this guy was a ruthless businessman back in the day. Like, industrial revolution level cutthroat. Bought factories, ruined families, never lost a deal because his whole thing was timing. He bragged he never missed a minute in his life. Time was money and he had all of it.
Then one day he fucking slipped. Overslept, carriage broke down, whatever. Showed up ONE MINUTE late to sign the biggest contract of his life. Just sixty seconds. Some other bastard signed it first, stocks crashed, empire gone in a single day. Guy couldn't handle it. Walked into the building with the clock that showed his ruin and blew his brains out right there.
But death didn't stick.
Now his soul's stuck in a loop. Can't move Post too long. Click here to view the full text.
