Descendants Pocket Watch Novels & Stories

Nathania gripped her brother's hand firmly, her eyes began to wet when she saw Nathan's weak condition. "I don't know, but rather than that, I want to give you something!" "What is that?" "You can make my study desk drawer, there's a little box in it. Get it!" "Alright!" she said as she opened a desk drawer and found a brown box. "This box?" "Yes, you can open it!" Nathania opened the box which contained a silver necklace with an oval pendant and bright green gemstones. "A pendant? how beautiful ..." "It's yours, a birthday present to you!"

It was a photo of an old - fashioned pocket watch, engraved with Sanskrit. Beneath the photo, Victoria had sent a description of the watch: Pocket Watch Name: City of Cycles Origin: A burial item from the tomb of an ancient king. The exact excavation date is unknown. Value: Rumor has it that the City of Cycles is the token of a mysterious king and queen. If the watch is opened, one can learn about the past and present lives of the person they love. Method of Activation: Unknown. ... Nathan stared at the pocket watch with a lack of interest. His werewolf mind was preoccupied with other matters.

I let it sit. The second package came five days later. Same placement, same plain exterior, same handwriting. This one was smaller, box-shaped, heavier than the first. Elias opened it the same way, methodical, unhurried. Inside was my father's pocket watch. I knew it immediately. I would have known it across a room. Silver, slightly scratched on the case from years of being carried in a pocket alongside keys, the small dent on the lower left edge from the time he'd dropped it on the kitchen tile when I was nine and we'd both held our breath until we confirmed it still worked. I'd looked for it after he died. It hadn't been among his possessions. I had assumed it was lost, or taken, or simply

“That’s wonderful! Let’s go!” Ricky threw a dirty glance at Charmine, pompous and proud of his achievement. Charmine merely said, “Hold on. Why don’t Miss D’Cruz have a look at my gift first?” With that, she raised her hand, revealing a small and delicate ticking pocket watch . The cover of the pocket watch was made with top-graded premium platinum that glowed under the sunlight. The entire watch’s surface and hands were made with a special pastel purple material. This kind of material was like a colored diamond: firm, rare, and dreamier than diamonds!

Nicholas wore it and gave it to Harvey as a birthday gift when he turned twenty-one years old in nineteen fifties. Harvey Sinclair then gave it to his first born son Joshua in nineteen seventies when Joshua turned twenty-one years old. Joshua Sinclair handed it to his son and my father Malcolm in nineteen nineties. And eventually, my father Malcolm Sinclair gave it to me in twenty fifteen, when I had turned twenty-one years old. He simply took it off his wrist and clasped it onto mine. The process was the same throughout generations. The watch was handed to me along with the very rich and significant talk that comes with it.

The key opens a secret door in the basement which depends on you; are you going to allow humans to enter? The diary, you need it to trace the day, month or year, it is a mysterious diary only given to generations. There is a bunch of it in the secret door. They’ll appear to you if you plan to have a family. Lastly this pocket watch, it will let you travel anytime. Literally, any TIME. Sam we’re immortals... There are a few of us living in this planet. At his first day during 1940, he noticed that the fields were no longer emerald. Houses and establishments were built all over.

He had seen plenty of rich kids such as Wade and Wynne, but none quite as oblivious as Finn. Yet Jean, full of energy and unwilling to let it go, encouraged him eagerly, “Come on, show him up! Prove it and make him eat his words!” Taking this as a challenge, Finn showed his pocket watch with a flourish and handed it over to Frederick. “Alright then, tell me which era this pocket watch is from.” Frederick barely gave the pocket watch a glance before covering his mouth in mock surprise. "Oh, wow! If I’m not mistaken, this must be an antique from the year 2023.”

I came to the conclusion that she was loony the second we met. “That watch is indeed a Machiavelli family heirloom. Pretty expensive too.” “And the point?” She resumes her pacing, her arms firmly wrapped behind her back. “You see, Astrid’s parents were not the custodians of that watch. In fact, the original Mr. and Mrs. Machiavelli, Astrid’s grandparents, had given the watch to their second son. And from my research, I found out that he was instructed never to part with it.” Something unfurls in my chest. Something dark and strangely painful.

"Arthur Blackstone was carved from ice. Grandfather’s perfect heir. Ruthless. Demanding. Emotion was… weakness. A flaw to be excised." He took a shuddering breath, his eyes still glued to the floor. "He had a pocket watch. Solid platinum. Cold. Heavy." Damien’s own hand instinctively went to his vest pocket, where he usually kept his own, a modern, sleek piece. "He’d tap it. On the desk. On the dinner table. “Tick. Tick. Tick.” Every second accounted for. Every minute is measured against productivity, against achievement, against the Blackwood standard." His voice gained a haunted quality.