Gothic Tale

This is a Gothic Story I wrote for an assignment in year 10. Please keep in mind that we were supposed to be writing in the old gothic style. Enjoy....?

--------------------------

Gothic Tale

Awakening from a deep slumber, I realized that the world was dark and cold. As I opened my eyes, I saw that the curtains were still drawn and the fire was unlit. The maid had obviously not yet passed through, yet something else was amiss. The morning birds could not be heard beyond the curtained windows, neither the whinny of horses from the stables or the familiar sound of servants preparing a house for the new day. The silence was disconcerting and the world seemed all too still. I turned over under my bed clothes and pulled the cord that dangled next to my bed.

I could hear the bell ring in the servant’s quarters in northern-most wing of the house. I waited, yet the usual servant girl who would answer my call did not come, and as many times as the bell was rung, still there was no reply. I played with the idea of waiting longer, yet curiosity- that age-long enemy of the mind- drew me out of bed to the covered windows. I hesitated, unsure at what I’d see, then flung back the curtains and stared outside. I don’t know what my eyes expected, surely some disaster or monstrosity would explain the deadly silence and still air, yet as the midmorning sun streamed into the room I saw… nothing.

The view was as it always had been; a series of curved paths leading through a perfectly kept front entrance, immaculately trimmed hedges moving with the path as it curved around to the magnificent front gate and the outside road. In the distance; the countryside hills and pastures which covered the land in a patchwork quilt. Nothing seemed amiss, so what was the cause of the unnatural air which surrounded the morning? A realization dawned on me that was as powerful as the rising sun. Nothing was the answer. The gates outside had not been opened for the day, there were no people along the paths, there was no sign of human activity, it was as if everyone had vanished. I was momentarily drawn to the idea of staying in the safety of my room; however curiosity again propelled me to dress myself and cautiously open my door to the silent day.

I walked down corridor after corridor through the labyrinth of the house, knocking on every door, searching through every room, but no living creature did avail itself to my eyes. Confusion coupled with an ever growing hysteria was threatening to overwhelm me, so a slight movement outside quickly led me to surrender caution and start towards the door. What awaited me outside was a mixed blessing; a human figure brought forth immediate delight, yet if I could have chosen my companion, it would have been any mortal soul but the woman who stood in front of me. When she saw me, her face drew into a mask of aloofness and contempt.

“Abigail,” She spoke my name as if it was poison in her mouth.

“Lenora,” I replied with equal venom.

“I should have expected as much”

“And what is it that you should have suspected Lenora?”

“The obvious. That you, Abigail, were the cause of this misfortune”

Lenora’s ability to blame every fault on myself never ceased to amuse me.

“And what misfortune would that be?”

“Why the fact that everyone has vanished of course”

“I assure you Lenora, if I was the cause of this, you would not be here to tell me so”

Before Lenora could speak her surely scathing reply, a shout interrupted us. I was rather pleased that our conversation had been stopped before it turned into what would have been a most unpleasant exchange, and overjoyed to see two gentlemen walking towards us from the direction of the stables. One of them was Edmund Walker, the other man I did not recognize.

“Thank goodness!” Edmund proclaimed. “We feared we were the only ones left”

“Well it seems there are only four of us Mr Walker. Have you any idea as to why that might be?” I queried

“I fear not Miss Taylor; Luther and I just returned from inspecting the stables - we hoped that there might be a horse to take us from here, but no such fortune - the stables are empty. However, it is most peculiar; no object has even slightly skewed from its proper place.”

It had been longer than I had realized from when I had awoken, and as I glanced upwards I saw that night was approaching. Making the decision to discuss our problem further indoors, Edmund took us through to the drawing room and lit several small lamps and a fire. We deliberated our bizarre situation, yet found no explanation. We were all bewildered and afraid, and Lenora continually, although not surprisingly, disregarded my every word. It was late at night now and I had the uneasy feeling that something was about to go awry, and, as if some unearthly presence was listening to my thoughts, a noise outside in the corridor startled us all. Looking at the others, our eyes met and an unconscious decision was made. We all stood up, took a lamp and walked to the door.

We could not see anything in the hall; the corridor was deathly still, as it had been the whole day. The light from the tiny lamps fell in all kinds of odd forms as their rays crossed each other, and the opacity of our bodies threw down shadows. I could not for my life remove myself from the feeling that there was something evil amongst us. It wasn’t that anything had changed around us; there were no new sounds, no new sights, nothing to give evidence to my fear. It was only the rather supernatural feeling of a presence, unseen to us, but changing the atmosphere with its malevolent thoughts.

The piercing scream of a midnight bird – one of the first outside sounds to be heard all day – shattered the stillness of the night, then, as if the stillness had been all that was holding us together, chaos ensued. A lamp was dropped and shattered, the other three went quickly out. Movement, a scream, footsteps, heavy breath, black. As darkness surrounded us in its cold embrace, I felt a hand on my shoulder and braced myself for some unknown attack, instead finding Edmund behind me in the shadows. At that moment, two of the lamps abruptly relit, and Edmund and I stood alone. Lenora and Luther had gone. Edmund and I hastily made our way back to the drawing room and, after a short exchange, barred the doors with towers of furniture. Edmund and I were not safe.

The night stubbornly refused to pass at a satisfactory rate and drew itself out to its longest reach. The moon slunk back and forth behind clouds before admitting defeat and settling behind a dark storm cloud. The thunder and lightning commenced not long after. Lightning bolts caused menacing shadows to fill the room and the ominous thunder was often at a level enough to make even Edmund flinch. Yet even with the diabolical orchestra of the storm, I saw Edmunds eyelids droop and, although I thought it unwise for us both to slumber, the nature of the days’ events and the lack of food soon caught me also, and shortly I too drifted away.

I dreamt… the rain was pouring and I stood outside; the thunder and lightning pounded unmercifully yet although I stood in the open, I did not feel the rain, it was as if I was no more than a spectral vision. The front of the house seemed unfamiliar and threatening, even though I had seen it not a mere six hours past. The immaculate hedges were suddenly monster shrubs, dark and unruly. With no control over my movements, I was transported towards the cemetery, reaching the gate, it was not unlocked rather I was of a sudden, possessed with the phantasmal powers to pass through the solid metal. The cemetery was as sinister and woeful as was expected from it, yet a becalming, soothing radiance emanated from the centermost memorial along with a resplendent apparition of an angelic figure. Only the back of this angel could be seen, yet his voice lilted back across the open space.

“Come to me”.

Lightning and thunder roared as the clouds collided, and I awoke with a start.

To my right, Edmund had also started awake, and we sat for a moment, each taking in the others’ pale face, then simultaneously we arose, took a lamp and moved to the door. As we hauled our barricades away, Edmund confirmed what I had expected – he had encountered the same vision as me. A part of me was fighting against the urge to go to the cemetery, somewhere inside told me to beware, yet it was as if a force was dragging me towards it, something I could not control.

We moved to the graveyard shown in our dreams, however, on this journey, the rain did not hesitate to chill us through our skin and as we reached the gate we could not pass through the bars. Nonetheless, as in our visions, there was the light and spectral angel with his back turned to us.

“Come to me”

As in a trance we stepped forward, step by step inching closer and the gates swung open without a sound. Still though, something held me back, an instinct, a nagging itching sensation that begged me to stop moving forwards. Edmund kept walking and though I wanted to shout out and command him to stop, I was unable to speak. Edmund reached the figure, it turned, and I was glad I had stopped. The figure was not an angel, but an unholy, malevolent phantom. Edmund was at its feet, and had no chance of flight before the wraith engulfed him. Edmunds tormented howl echoed through the night, and as the sound died away, the vile phantom turned to me.