*THUD* A small body bounced, rolling down the slope inside the cave. It landed in a pile of half decomposed corpses, putrid black filth staining its already dirty clothes. At the mouth of the cave, an outer court slave covered in scars continued to throw other dead bodies down the slope, breath rasping shallower and shallower with each labored breath. When the last body was thrown like a dirty napkin into the cave, the slave wrapped a rough hemp rope around its arm and started the long trudge back towards the sect, rickety handcart creaking slowly behind. The cave was moist and humid all year around, with a rotten fishy smell wafting from the mouth. When it rained, poisonous miasma would rise up and surround the entire mountain peak for …show more content…
That which defies the Celestial Will must perish! Lightning rained down upon the peak, scorching trees and finally exposing the inside of the cave to the outside world. Rain slashed through the clouds, hail following as the sky seethed. The angry red mass began its descent, dragging Heavenly thunder and lightning behind it. The body sprawled upon the ground twitched. It was a young child, no more than ten years old, but it looked more like a withered mummy. Thick grey death qi was expunged from the body's pores, covering the waxen skin with a noxious layer of impurities. Thunder boomed, and the blood colored Tribulation descended in the shape of a fist. The Celestial Will desired total eradication! Lightning swarmed over that fist, screeching and burning as it reached down to pummel the now trembling body like a bug. A hundred meters. 75. 40. A stray lightning bolt smashed down onto the body. Arcs of light wreathed the body, electricity scorching away the solidified death qi. It burned a shimmering pattern of red flame scales down the skin of the child's shoulders and …show more content…
Mountains collapsed and beasts fled. A terrifying aura welled up from the depths of the earth. Above the Corpse Sect's qi refining grounds, two vicious amber suns suddenly appeared. Golden fire spread, outlining the suns and lighting up the inside of a ghostly skull. It was the apparition of a giant yao beast! The yao spirit let out a furious roar. It twisted its huge body, tearing a rift in space as it thrashed about. It even disrupted the flow of time, causing ghostly phantoms to flicker in the night. Its tail swung, crushing the descending Tribulation. The spirit roared towards the Heavens, eyes reflecting madness as it dived down towards the quivering and screaming child. The yao spirit faded as it swallowed the child, both of them disappearing into the earth, as if they had never existed at all. The blood colored sky faded back into normal storm clouds, the Heavenly thunder and lightning dissipating. All across the state of Zhou, mortals stared into the sky with fear. More than a few had their hair turn white from fright. As for the cultivators of Zhou, greed shone in their eyes. Heavenly apparitions accompanied by Tribulation meant the descent of a divine body or celestial treasure. Who wouldn't want it for
...ls, chiming their ominous message. The village women, perhaps the first to realize the horrible gravity of the situation, weeping, bared their souls as they walked with sorrowful hearts to the cemetery. The religious procession, with their full regalia and stoic expressions, belied the emotions that were surely heavy laden. Their slow, methodical pilgrimage hinted that they were beginning what would ultimately be a funeral procession. The brave young men, escorted by their elder counterparts, were led to their slaughter much like sacrificial lambs. The fact that they were escorted sends the message that they were truly doomed, much like prisoners being led to their executions.
There are many elements of fiction. All of them together are a recipe for the perfect story. There are five elements all together. They are conflict, setting, character, plot and theme. “The Grim Grotto” displays all of these elements with an exceptionally well written storyline.
Untouched and unhindered, he continued on a path, not yet discovered, towards the unknowing Prince Prospero. Although he had a slow pace, he made an unexplainable distance in a small amount of time. Some masqueraded man from the retreating group grew enraged and curious of this mysterious man. He ran up to the figure and placed a hand on his mask with the intent to tear it off of the ghostly man. The moment he laid his hand upon the mask, he screamed in agony and pain. Then, unable to pull his hand or the mask free, his fate was sealed. His scream withered away along with his final breath, as he turned old and crumpled onto the lustrous floor in a pile of black ash. Silence and absolute stillness filled the room before a wine glass, half full of a red drink, descended from the whitley g...
“You’ve just crossed over into The Twilight Zone” says Rod Serling before every episode of The Twilight Zone. A show that leaves it’s viewers in a macabre state. Instead of drawing a conclusion like most shows, the show usually ends mysteriously. It utilizes similar elements as other short half-hour shows, but goes about it in a different way. This outlandish style is seen in literature, more specifically short stories, as well. Even though other short stories employ the same literary devices, “The Beast In The Cave” by H.P. Lovecraft is uniquely mysterious because of the story’s suspenseful plot, compelling diction, and, most important, overshadowing theme.
A prehistoric archaeologist’s goal, as per Scupin and DeCorse (2013:5), is to decipher the beliefs and mindset of past societies, particularly early inhabitants of Europe and America, through their material culture, such as the cave art found in Lascaux. This cave, located in southern France, contains what is believed to be one of the oldest artistic representations of wild animals and art; it has captured the interest of numerous scientists, philosophers and historians, all of whom wish to make sense of these enigmatic images (Lippit 2002:20). With the multitude of minds working to decode these images, it comes as no surprise that there are a variety of unique interpretations of these paintings today. Most explanations are formulated through the extrapolation of an analysis conducted upon a specific scene within the larger picture, and seek to understand the ethos of the species painting it. More specifically, the study of the ‘accident scene’ has led to two prominent explanations, which state that these paintings depict the challenges of life, or have religious significance to healing or the hunt. However, both articles indirectly agree that these paintings represent the beginning of humanity’s self-awareness.
"...He cringed from death as one who trips on a snake in hilltop hollow recoils, suddenly trembling grips his knees and pallor, takes his cheeks and back he shrinks."
The child’s game had ended. After I nearly ran Kurtz over, we stood facing each other. He was unsteady on his feet, swaying like the trees that surrounded us. What stood before me was a ghost. Each layer of him had been carved away by the jungle, until nothing remained. Despite this, his strength still exceeded that of my own. With the tribal fires burning so close, one shout from him would unleash his natives on me. But in that same realization, I felt my own strength kindle inside me. I could just as easily muffle his command and overtake him. The scene flashed past my eyes as though I was remembering not imagining. The stick that lay two feet from me was beating down on the ghost, as my bloodied hand strangled his cries. My mind abruptly reeled backwards as I realized what unspeakable dark thoughts I had let in. Kurtz seemed to understand where my mind had wandered; it was as though the jungle’s wind has whispered my internal struggles to him. His face twisted into a smile. He seemed to gloat and enjoy standing by to watch my soul begin to destroy itself.
A thick plume of black smoke and ash hung in the air in a heavy haze, almost completely obscuring the lurid red glow of the waning sun. Below, a cloud of grey plaster dust twisted and writhed amid the sea of debris as intermittent eddies of wind gusted by.
“Then came the march past the victims. The two men are no longer alive. Their tongues were hanging out, swollen and bluish. But the third rope was still moving: the child, too light, was still breathing. And so he remained for more than half an hour, lingering between life and death, writhing before our eyes.
I particularly found Bacon’s idol, the Idol of the Cave, to be the most interesting and accurate. According to Bacon, the idol of the cave is a place for men where they may “be in their own worlds”. The cave may be a “den” where men can escape the actual world, prejudice, not have to worry about other worldly things, emerge into their own world free of worries and be with their own thoughts. It’s a place for men to enjoy their own individual thoughts, engage into intellectual activates such as reading to keep occupied without any interference from other being. I believe that this idol of Bacon is completely accurate as it allow men (all beings should be allowed, not just limited to men) to have some time alone and put their thoughts into perceptive.
Justice and knowledge are not easily explained; however, Plato, uses thought experiments to capture vivid images of what the two words actually mean. The Ring of Gyges and the Allegory of the Cave both enlighten the hazy ideas of the true meaning behind knowledge and justice. These readings stretch made me stretch my brain and think about things that have never crossed my mind before. Plato is a wonderful philosopher that explains things vividly so that his readers can fully understand the meaning and his view.
We stared in mute amazement as ostentatious lightning, the colour of burnished gold, burst in white-bright flashes flaming against the crenellated ridge. Thunder, colliding in sheets of monstrous sound, rattled the air and practically deafened us. We just sat, timorous almost to the point of death. The wind rose to a shrieking, venomous pitch in its furious battle with mountain. The air stank of scorched stone ... ...
His chakras begin to ignite the inner body, illuminating the outer body, travelling up his spine slowly and surely. Edgar thinks,”It is my purpose, my duty. The world must be saved. It is time to die.” He carefully writes his name within the contents of the
The sunset was not spectacular that day. The vivid ruby and tangerine streaks that so often caressed the blue brow of the sky were sleeping, hidden behind the heavy mists. There are some days when the sunlight seems to dance, to weave and frolic with tongues of fire between the blades of grass. Not on that day. That evening, the yellow light was sickly. It diffused softly through the gray curtains with a shrouded light that just failed to illuminate. High up in the treetops, the leaves swayed, but on the ground, the grass was silent, limp and unmoving. The sun set and the earth waited.