“Alright,” Hawking said. “Did anyone else predict that would happen? I for one, did not see that coming.”
We crowded around the opening and found ourselves staring at safe with a digital lock.
“I don’t suppose you know the code?” I asked Marisol.
She shook her head.
“Well, I didn’t come all this way to be stopped by a lock.” I closed my eyes and captured the burning fire inside me. Using the power of the amulet, I summoned blue lighting. The sphere appeared in my fist almost immediately. With sparks jumping off my fingertips, I touched the keypad. A blue electrical charge fizzled through the electronic circuitry. Seconds later, an acrid, burning smell filled the room. The keypad short circuited with a flash of sparks and popped open.
I
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“It’s clear, follow me.”
We eased out of the niche, creeping close to the wall. From the entrance of the castle, orders were being shouted above the din of entering gargoyles. Twice we slipped into empty rooms, waiting with our breath held, sure that this time we’d be found by the passing gargoyles. But both times, they slipped into another room or moved into a separate hall. When I thought my thumping heart couldn’t take any more, Marisol led us to a small corridor separated from the rest of the castle by a plain brown door.
“The servant’s hall,” Marisol said, shutting the door and leaning against it with a sigh. “All we have to do is take those stairs,”—she pointed to a narrow staircase—“and it’ll take us to the hall leading to the battlements.”
“Good,” I said, fighting down my panic. Over the last few minutes, the fire that usually burned like a stoked furnace, had dwindled down to a candle flame. Alistair’s hadn’t wasted any time on casting the incantation.
We were entering the staircase when the door to the corridor was flung open. “I told you, we haven’t checked in here—” A heavily muscled gargoyle with a goat face and curling ram horns froze at the sight of
Usually, their home is silent, but when one day the narrator suddenly hears something inside another part of the house, the siblings escape to a smaller section, locked behind a solid oak door. In the intervening days, they become frightened and solemn; on the one hand noting that there is less housecleaning, but regretting that the interlopers have prevented them from retrieving many of their personal belongings. All the while, they can occasionally hear noises from the other
But first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. These were seven—an imperial suite. In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different, as might have been expected from the duke’s love of the bizarre. The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass whose colour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example in blue—and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange—the fifth with white—the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But in this chamber only, the
“We walked through a high hallway into a bright rose-colored space, fragilely bound into the house by French windows at either end. The windows were ajar and gleaming white against the fresh grass outside that seemed to grow a little way into the house” (7).
As The Great Gatsby progresses, the reader feels a range of emotions for each of the character, especially the narrator. The story of Jay Gatsby is told in the point of view of Nick Carraway, Gatsby’s only real friend and he is also a participant in the book. Although most of the main characters in the book are rich and come from “old money” Nick works hard to rent a house “at West Egg, the-well, the less fashionable of the two [Eggs]” (5). Even so, Nick says that his “ own house [is] an eyesore, but it [is] a small eyesore” (5). Nick does not exactly complain about his house as much as the reader would expect him to. Throughout the book, Gatsby has three different personas and he uses the other characters in the book to make his ultimate dream come true. Nick is not excluded and he is taken advantage of by Gatsby just like everyone else. Ultimately, Nick is
There exists no power as inexplicable as that of love. Love cannot be described in a traditional fashion; it is something that must be experienced in order for one to truly grasp its full enormity. It is the one emotion that can lead human beings to perform acts they are not usually capable of and to make sacrifices with no thought of the outcome or repercussions. Though love is full of unanswered questions and indescribable emotions, one of the most mystifying aspects of love is its timeless nature. Love is the one emotion, unlike superficial sentiments such as lust or jealousy, which can survive for years, or even generations. In the novel The Gargoyle, the author, Andrew Davidson, explores the idea of eternal love between two people, a union that spans over centuries spent both together and apart. Davidson, through the use of flashbacks, intricate plot development and foreshadowing, and dynamic characterization, creates a story that challenges the reader’s preconceived notions regarding whether eternal love can survive even when time’s inevitable grasp separates the individuals in question.
Finding a door to exit would become a puzzling exercise during one of their St. Albans investigations. Terri and Marie were in what is known as “the safe room,” because a large old-fashioned safe is located there. They had completed their investigation and were readying to leave the room when they realized they couldn’t. There wasn’t a door. “It was as if it had been morphed over,” said Terri. “We went around and around in circles. We were growing concerned when we made another lap and there it was. It was as if the door materialized out of nowhere,” she said.
Yer mother will want to hear every detail of what happened and I don’t have the patience.” By all the saints, Bram loved his mother but he didn’t have the patience for an inquisition tonight either. Bram led Goliath into the stable, removed his tack, rubbed him down, and fed him an extra portion of oats. When he had finished, he was still not anxious to face the crowd certain to have formed in the great hall.
Long galleries, chambers, trap doors, and secret passages together create a maze-like interior structure that seems mysterious and full of secrets and uncertainty. Plenty of empty spaces exist in the enormous inner space of the castle, which the chasing between Manfred and Isabella to take place. The ambiguity of one’s actual location can lead to confusion, misgiving, and fear. When Isabella is trying to run away from Manfred’s grasp, she “continued her flight to the bottom of the principal staircase. There she stopped, not knowing whether to direct her steps, nor how to escape from the impetuosity of the Prince” (25). Isabella’s exposure to uncertainty challenges her remaining consciousness and rationality, which pave the way for a sense of uncanny to emerge. Later on, Isabella once again gets lost in the lower part of the castle where is “hollowed into several intricate cloisters; and it was not easy for one under so much anxiety to find the door that opened into the cavern.” (26). Isabella’s consistent lost in the castle leads readers to feel an illusion of encountering a familiar sense of anxiety repetitively. Such strange familiarly stimulates a feeling of uncanny, unsettling and unearthly. Vidler (2015) claims that “ The uncanny habit of history to repeat itself, to return at unexpected and unwanted moments” (5), and he also defines uncanny as “a significant psychoanalytical and aesthetic response to the real shock...compounded by its unthinkable repetition” (9). Repetitively getting lost in pavements creates an eerie atmosphere in the story and steadily increases readers’ trepidation and uncanny
The heavy door seemed like a prison door that was meant to keep inmates inside. The Nurse on the other hand who was attending the visitor’s desk was dressed in a white uniform. She was as cold in her reception, similar to the day that was cold outside. Marian does not tell the nurse her true intentions of being there except that she was a campfire girl wanting to visit some old lady. When asked by the nurse in a manly voice “Acquainted with any of our residents?” (122), Marian nervously pushing her hair behind and stammers “With any old ladies? No – but – that is, any of them will do”. (122) showing that the both of them were really not concerned about the
“Then a wild desire took me to obtain the key at any risk, and I determined then and there to scale the wall again, and gain the Count’s room. He might kill me, but death now seemed the happier choice of
SCREECH! Subsequently, we were through the first and second door of the demonic horror land, eventually arriving at the gate of the third. Like transparent ghosts, we slid through the thick curtain as the doors repeatedly slammed behind us. A figure wrapped in linen cloth came chasing after us and I willed the vehicle to go faster, but it slowed against my control. Thus, I sat grasping the railing tightly in case something even horrid should rise unexpectedly through the depths of the floorboards. "I'm going to have nightmares!" My sister whimpered.
Going through the “Gothic archway of the hall” (3), the narrator takes notes of the “many dark and intricate passages in my progress to the studio” (3). He walks down through the labyrinth of hallways with coat arms until he reaches the staircase. As the narrator climbs up the stairs, he meets “the physician of the family…[where he accosts the narrator] with trepidation” (3). On the second floor, “many books and musical instruments lay scattered about, but failed to give any vitality to the scene” (4). No life seems to rise when the narrator walks around the house; everything feels like time has stopped, and no one seems to be alive in the
He come back Days later and took us along with Solange walking, among vineyards to a sort of convent near the place where we should pass the demarcation line. Tired, I was afraid, until now the contact of Gilbert's Grandparent everything seemed planned to the last detail, Howewer, what with respect to tomorrow? ¿ How could pass the demarcation line the three of us? And what would be for us after?
As we walked through the woods on the dark cold night in October we notice screaming of what we had thought to be the neighbor girl. We creep closer to the large mansion and climb the gates to get in the massive front yard. As me and my friends Kevin, Douglas, and randy reach the front door, we slowly creep open the front door, we hear screams and yells and very quickly leave the situation. We head back to the house for the night and decide that we will make a plan and return to the mansion tomorrow.
“Your room was demolished three years back so we could make the garden a bit bigger. Let me show you to your new room.” I followed her down the hallway until we came to an oak door that looked like every other door I had seen in the building so far. She apologised twice more and I let her know that it was nothing to worry over. I knew that she wanted more from me, but for the time being, all I wanted was to be in my own space.