curdling scream rings out, and Tony’s paradise relaxation is shattered. He starts to get up and try to see where the scream came from. He sees a husky trapped in the pond. Tony rushes over to the downed dog. “What’s going on?”

The husky, female, was in tears. “I was swimming, and just getting out, when the water got all sticky.”

Tony stuck a paw into what was once crystal blue waters. When he pulled it back out, it was covered with thick, brown sludge. “Mud? But how?”

As Tony made his deduction, the clouds that formed Heaven started to turn a demonic red, the roads once paved with kibble cracked and split. Tony knew that Annabelle needed to know, and raced through the disaster zone to the tower where she stayed. Rushing through Heaven, he could see angels in panic, hope diminishing, and general sadness. How could anyone find pleasure in causing this? he though as he ran.

By the time Tony had reached Annabelle’s tower, she was already out front, waiting for him. “Anthony. I take it you’ve seen what’s going on.”

“Yes, Miss Annabelle. This is terrible!”

“Look, I need you to tell the other guardian angels to get everyone to the Halo Hall. You and me are going to the, as Charles put it, Clock Department.”

“But Annabelle, this is unstoppable. Within moments, Heaven entirely could be decimated. We have to find somewhere else safe!”

“There’s no time for that,” Annabelle yelled, her tone getting sharper with each word. “We need to act now! We have to…” she paused, hearing crumbling behind her. “Look out!” she screamed as she pushed Tony out of the way of the tower, now falling apart.

“There is no way I am going to face whatever demons have managed to break through your ‘perfect’ defenses! This is not my issue!”

Annabelle snapped at Tony, “Damn it Tony! This isn’t about any of us! It is about the dogs that are still alive!”

Tony, if he had a heart still beating, would have sworn that his heart skipped a beat. Annabelle had never been so angry, never had she yelled so aggressively, no one in the thousands of years there had heard her slip even the lightest of swears out her jaws.

“Y-yes, Annabelle.” Tony whimpered.

Annabelle, heavily breathing, stopped to regain her composure. “Terribly sorry about that Anthony. But we have no time to lose.” The two rush past the wrecked tower and out to the outer rims of Heaven itself. The farther they went, the more Tony become frightened.

“So the, uh, Clock Department is back here.”

“Yes, as I said, I wanted to keep it far away, but I wanted it more protected as well, so putting it in the outskirts was the best idea.”

Tony finally began to see the clocks Annabelle had mentioned. But he could also see a shadowy figure snatching ticking clocks and placing them in what seemed to be a basket. “Hey! Annabelle look! It’s a demon!”
Annabelle narrowed her eyes. There is no way I’ll let you jeopardize millions of dog lives! Annabelle lunged at the theft, sending it across the red skies. But the shadow retaliated and dashed over to the whippet and began clawing at her. Tony could only watch in shock as the two fought. The shadow and Annabelle tussled, turned, bit, and scratched at each other. It was anyone’s guess as to who would win.

The fight raged on, but soon Annabelle had finally pinned the shadowy assailant to the ground. “This is over. You lose!” Annabelle raised her claws, she was willing to change her pacifist ways if it meant saving the lives of dogs. But the shadow saw the basket sitting next to a break in Heaven.

“I’m sorry miss,” the shadow hissed, “But it’s you who loses!” The shadow used its free leg to kick the basket out of Heaven and plummeting to the Earth below.

“No!” Annabelle yelled. She let go of the perpetrator and rushed over to where the clocks had fallen. When she turned around, the shadow was gone in a puff of black smoke.

Tony rushed over to Annabelle, hovering over the gap. “The clocks! What is gonna…are they gonna…?” he smashed the words together.

Annabelle felt around her neck. Her amulet tag was gone. “I can summon enough magic to stop them from shattering when they fall, but after that there’s nothing I can do. That creature stole my source of power.” Annabelle began chanting, “Uu mi, fe ret, to these watches, I protect!” An eruption of sparkles and shimmering mist told Annabelle that her magic had worked. But the power made her weak, and she fell onto her knees.

“Annabelle where did they land?” Tony asked.

“New…New Orleans.” Annabelle struggled to whisper.

“Good. Now, can…can I get my life watch? I can just go down there and when I’m done just die and bring them back.”

“No.” Annabelle pointed to a statue in the distance. “Break it. Inside is… is enough magic to get you to San Francisco.”

“And what do you want me to do when I get there?”

“Find, Charles. Find him Anthony. Take him to New Orleans. He knows that city. He just might be the only hope for the dogs those watches belong to.” Annabelle blacked out, leaving Tony alone in consciousness at the sight of a Breach in the Clock Department.

Chapter 2:

[August 28th - 8:53 pm]

Mickey finally opened his eyes, making him realize that he wasn’t dead yet. “Oh,” he moaned. “What the hell hit me?” Mickey rubbed his head, and felt a metal object on his head. He grasped it and brought in front of him. It was an auburn colored pocket watch, straight out of the Victorian times. Most notably, on the backside of the watch, his name was engraved into the metal: “Tsogung Mickey Mickalavich”.

“Strange. Very few people know my real name.” Mickey stood up, and put his head through the chain, leaving the watch dangling over his chest. “Fits quite nicely. Now then, getting home…” Mickey stared down the street. “It should be this way.” Mickey began walking down the road back to his home, not knowing of the dangers that would follow.

[August 28th - 10:28pm]

Mickey walked through the front doors of The Apparent Apartments complex at Dogleg Lane. The place was no Hilton, but it was good livings. He walked over to the main desk, where the manager kept the room keys. But on this night, the Doberman in charge was out. Odd, Paul is always at his post. Must be whiskey night down at the bar. Mickey saw his key hanging on the rack: Room P. He checked to see if anyone was looking, and snatched his key. “Simple.” he muttered before walking up the near staircase and going to his room.

Outside, in the cold of night, stood Crystal, a ragamuffin cat. Crystal looked down at the note in her paws once more:

“Your next target: A Little White Dog
Lives at - Dogleg Ln. Apparent Apartments
On the Second Floor, Room P”

What the note meant to say was: “On the Second Floor, Room B”, but such was not. Entranced, partly due to black magic, partly due to the fact she was in her evil personality, she dropped the note and walked over to the apartments, leaving behind bloody paw prints in her wake.

Meanwhile, Mickey was sitting on the chair in his apartment living room, staring vigorously at the watch he had found. “So strange. A watch from the sky. And it has my name on it. Not even on it, inscribed into it. Oh well, at least it works.” Mickey tried to dismiss the watch, and threw it onto the couch. No sooner than had he done that, there was a knock on his door. “Yes, come in. The door isn’t locked.”

The door opened slowly, and as it became ajar, a hiss rang out from the other side. Mickey cocked his head at the door, and from the hall someone dashed inside and lunged at him, pinning him down.

It was Crystal. “You’re coming with me, little angel!”

“Quite frankly, I’d rather not.” Mickey pushed back up, trying to get on his feet, his weak shoulder giving all it had. Mickey shoved Crystal off of him and onto the floor. Crystal extended her claws and made another lunge at Mickey, who was too slow to dodge, cutting into his backside. Mickey let out a howl as Crystal dug her claws in. Think, Mickey. Think. How do I get it off me?

Mickey recalled the smelling salts that Harli had once used on Soapy when she was unconscious. With Crystal still grabbing on to him, Mickey dragged himself over to a cabinet where he’d kept some of the salts. He reached out, hoping to be close enough with each progressive drag, and eventually managed to grasp the handle. He swung it open without hesitation, releasing the rancid stench into the room. The moment Crystal caught a whiff of the odor, she let go of Mickey and fell once more. Mickey immediately put distance between himself and his attacker. He closed the door, he didn’t want anyone seeing what had happened.

“I…I,” he panted. “I can’t believe that worked.” Mickey wanted to relax, but knew that the cat had done quite an attack. He crawled into the bathroom and pulled himself onto the sink counter. He looked in the mirror to try to see the damage the attacker had done. “I’m not bleeding. Wait, I’m not bleeding?” he questioned. He wanted to have a closer look at himself, but he heard another knocking at his door.

“Hello? Mickey? You alright in there?” It was Johnson. He was a white afghan, and lived