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It happened again in the evening.

Sylvan had been having a weird feeling lately. Like he wasn't completely aware of reality for a second and then his mind just came back stumbling to it. The sylveon had found himself performing a completely normal task, like taking out the trash, and suddenly he'd be doing it in... well, ways that he wasn't supposed to. At least, he'd never done stuff like that before.

The first time he'd noticed something weird was going on had been a few days ago, when watching TV. He'd turned it on after a long day and had decided to just do some casual zapping, relaxing on the couch as the weak sound of his old grandfather clock echoed in the distance. The programs were boring but at least that way he could give his tired mind a rest for the day. It deserved it.

Sylvan had blinked and suddenly two hours had passed. He had caught himself nodding to the ads, as if compelled by an invisible force to accept what the TV was saying. He'd turn it off, slightly frightened by the strange time absence, and had decided to go to bed. Later, the sylveon had thought that he hadn't _actually_been nodding to the ads, but a completely different thing that he'd been aware of at the time. It made sense, somehow, in his head - but it wasn't any less creepy.

He had the next day off, so he decided to take a walk. Perhaps he hadn't found enough time to relax lately, he thought, so maybe taking it easy on himself would be a good idea. He'd been listening to some music at first, but then everything sort of became a blur. Sylvan had only regained his awareness by the end of the walk, and he'd realized he'd been walking for a while... but on all fours. Additionally, there was a collar around his neck and a leash hanging from it, dragging on the ground. He'd kept both in his locked kinky wardrobe until then, but he had no recollection of taking them out.

Mortified, the sylveon had decided to stay home for the night. He had no idea what other weird things might happen that would embarrass him further. Nervous, wondering whether he should inform somebody of what was going on - but with an inner, almost imperceptible blanket feeling that it wasn't truly necessary - Sylvan had refrained from setting foot on the street during the following days.

Nothing weird had happened.

On the third day, Sylvan finally decided to go out. By then, he was beginning to think it might have been something occasional. He took another walk - making sure he wouldn't start walking on all fours again - and even allowed himself to buy an ice pop in his way back home. The cold feeling of it in his mouth kept him from thinking about the crazy situation he'd found himself in the last time he'd walked outside.

He got home and sat on the couch, the grandfather clock ticking rhythmically He was beginning to relax for the first time in a few days when he noticed something strange. It took him a long while to realize he was eating the ice pop a bit too eagerly. He'd put it in his mouth, wrapped his tongue around the icy surface, and had been moving his head up and down. The motion resembled something he didn't recognize at first. And then...

_F-fuck!_Sylvan thought, his eyes open-wide as he left the ice pop on the coffee table in a rush. The melting ice stained the mahogany wood, but he didn't pay any attention to it.

What was that? Why had he been acting so weird - no, so horny - as of late? It wasn't like he was so in need after all. And yet...

His eyes darted to the grandfather clock, catching a glimpse of its round pendulum as it moved back and forth. Following an impulse, Sylvan stood up and walked towards it, confused. He placed one of his hands on the cold surface, then stepped back and looked again.

The bewildered sylveon thought - perceived - the grandfather clock hadn't always been there. It didn't fit the decoration in the house, really. He squinted, beginning to suspect there was something very clearly wrong with that clock. Then, he focused more on the round disc, which kept on moving back and forth, back and forth.

And then, just for a split second, he remembered his apartment didn't have only one bedroom, but two - and that he wasn't alone, but living with a friend - and that said friend was called Thompson, and he was a hypno - and that he'd been recently been toying with the idea of letting him hypnotize him - but that he wasn't completely sure whether he'd asked him or not - and that he found the idea extremely hot.

He dropped on his knees in front of the clock, which didn't resemble a clock anymore, but a black hypno whose shiny pendulum was placed right in front of his line of sight. Just staring at it made Sylvan's head sink right back into the familiar, unaware state. Something called for attention between his legs, but he was too lost in his staring exercise to do something about it.

He had a feeling Thompson was grinning - and then, with a snap, he realized it had happened again.

Friends? Bedrooms? Of course his apartment had two bedrooms. One was for him, the other was for visits. The sylveon stood up, looking around and trying to get rid of the blush on his cheeks. He wiped a bit of pop ice liquid from the corner of his mouth and frowned. Yeah, something weird was definitely going on, but torrid sexual fantasies were probably not the root of his problems. He'd need to look somewhere else, consider other options - forget about the fantasy, he was made to think.

As he walked to the bathroom to brush his teeth, the grandfather clock's pendulum kept ticking rhythmically at his back.

And it would continue to do so, for a while.