I climb up a second set of stairs and walk down a dark moonlit hallway. When I reach the classroom I quickly slam the door shut and lock myself inside. I turn around and slide down the classroom door when suddenly I hear laughing. “Did you think you could get away from me?” He chuckles evilly. Anger takes over me and I can’t stop myself as I charge towards him.
He never locked the door before this very night so I knew immediately that something terrible must have happened to my master. I beat on the door repetitively and begin to call him “Dr. Jekyll,” I cried, “Dr. Jekyll are you in there sir?” After a good length of time had pasted I began to think I may have to resort to more desperate measures. The door swings open with a great force and Dr. Jekyll is standing before me drenched in sweat, with a puzzled look on his face.
His footsteps where so loud as he stepped upon the iron grate that the noise seemed the rattle the brain within his skull. He came to a halt, a sweaty hand ran over cold steel tightening his grasp around the only protection he had against the foul city he was in. His stomach turned as he turned around and took a defensive crouch ready to dart at any given moment. A torch was gripped in his left hand, pinning that light-giving object against the gun in his right to direct his aim. He was attempting to mentally stop and fight all his instincts, which were telling him to run was physically exhausting.
Sneezing and loud barking interrupts my prayers and I hear the soldiers shout something in a foreign language, that I don’t understand, and march away. We stay frozen until we are sure that the Nazi soldiers are gone. As we get out of the hiding place I scrape my arm, once again on the very same pebble. Darn, I think to myself as I inspect the scratch that is on my elbow. Well, it is not that bad.
A thread of fetid smell starts creeping in my nose as I get closer to the hallway. I am a little anxious but I can’t resist knowing what’s inside the basement. At the end of the hallway, there is a kitchen. An intense smell of rotten meat keeps stabbing toward me. It makes me feel like vomit so I turn and run away.
Numbers where you can't write them as a fraction, and thus can't write them as a decimal which repeats are irrational. Like magic, the doors creak open with a burst of dust, musty air, and shrieking bats. You lead McMerlock down the first corridor. It is so dark that you can barely see your own outstretched hand. The darkness consumes you as you continue to trek deeper and deeper in the hallway.
We all walked inside the auditorium and glancing at the wall, I saw quite possibly the worst painting I’ve ever seen, it looked like a robot with fairly diminutive hands and lengthy fingers. Its knees were disfigured and the paint choice was just frightful for my eyes. The cool air from the A/C hit my face with such force of two trains colliding. Most kids had serious faces as if there was a prize for
The setting of 'The Red Room', 'Lorraine Castle', is extremely typical of the Gothic genre. Castles are generally large, dark place, and the reader knows the Red Room to be situated in a castle like this, as the narrator is given a rather long list of directions before he encounters the Red Room. The passageways almost seem to lead him underground, so far into isolation that even if he were to need help, it would not be available. Used in 'The Red Room', the setting creates a foundation of mystery and the possibility of ghosts, or a supernatural presence. As the initial room the narrator finds himself in is not described in great detail, much emphasis is put on the Room itself.
Robert. My mind suddenly panics and the palms of my hands start to sweat uncontrollably. I swiftly wipe them on my silk night gown and meet him at the entrance of the kitchen. I immediately engulf him in my arms as I longingly wrap myself around his bare chest; unusually he pushes me away, leaving a haunting gap between us. My heart shudders.
I was in a mess my white pants now brown and my bun was ruined with my hair everywhere. I stood up straightened my shirt and as I was walking up the stairs I tripped over one , while no one was looking and hoped nothing worse was to come. As I got into the house I was told straight away to go and try on my dress and make sure that it had fitted. As I was putting it on I realized that I couldn’t zip the dress up all the way. I started to stress because the wedding was tomorrow.