A chilling breath of wind assaulted her deadened cheeks for it was a rough night and the stars had cowardly hid away behind the dull‚ mute clouds. The predatory moon‚ bright and full; crept behind the cloudy sky stalking me as prey. Her voiceless shadow stumbled drunkenly as she battled through the hawkish rain to find shelter for the night. Her car had broken down a mile or so back. It had been hours since
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around 1764 by Horace Walpole’s The Castle of Otranto‚ whose story contained almost every element of what is viewed today as a Gothic Tale. Most stories that are classified under the subgenre of gothic fiction involve many elements that create a sense of suspense or mystery‚ with features that develop a dark feeling or unsettling atmosphere and sometimes even overwrought emotion. Through the analysis of short stories written by Gothic authors such as‚ “Where Are You Going‚ Where Have You Been?” by
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well maintained. The tragic death of the family is considered to be equivocal‚ for there is no true story of the death of the family of seven. Many peasants state rather specious arguments about the mysterious deaths‚ but their arguments are easily seen as counterfeit. Judging by the family member’s mutilated bodies‚ some may argue the death was that of the work of an omen or demon‚ but the story‚ again‚ is equivocal. As the hooded man approached the wretched estate‚ his identity was soon uncovered
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Beacon Hall Cautiously walked I towards the grand old mansion‚ where I read the name aloud ’Beacon Hall’. The vulgar and vile house had the look of an old run down Gothic church with arched stained glass windows. The doors and windows reminded me of a church I once visited called ’El Monumental’ in Barcelona. I breathed in deeply smelling wet oak wood reminding me of winter fires and roasting chestnuts. The area was in an old abandoned town by the forest and the old lake‚ as I went into the house
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Simile This descriptive writing technique compares one subject to a different subject even though they are not normally related. An example of a simile is‚ "Linda looks as thin as a toothpick." Metaphor These are similar to similes‚ but instead of comparing things they go as far as to say to objects are the same. For example‚ "Life is a rollercoaster." Rhetorical Question Rhetorical questions are questions that do not require or expect and answer. They can be used to make the reader think about
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It was a grey afternoon with a dull sky. The wind was sighing in the tree top and boughs moaned. The dark‚ ragged and ominous clouds drifted over. Surprisingly‚ instead of beating down a curtain of rain from heavens‚ it only brought drizzle. “I wish it would rain cats and dogs.” Sylvia talked to herself while she was sitting in a bus looking up to the eerie sky. Sylvia was on the way to visit her father‚ alone. Her mom refused to go with her‚ she did not want to see him. They were divorced. Well
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I awoke on a beautiful summer’s day‚ my room was flooded with sunlight and I could hear the birds singing. I went out for a walk to admire the beautiful landscapes of Ireland. The sky was blue and cloudless and I could see verdure everywhere. Trees were in bloom and a thick carpet of grass covered the ground. I took the little path behind the house that led to the forest. I was alone on that beautiful day and without thinking about anything I continued my way through the forest. The trees were beautiful
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My Gothic Story A cold gust of wind blew‚ against my cheeks. There was noise‚ I looked up and there was drips of blood falling onto the hollow floor coming from the echoing ceiling. It was a rough night‚ the stars hid away behind the dull grey clouds. There was a bright full moon shining in the clear night sky. My voiceless shadow stumbled after me as I followed the footsteps of an unknown creature lurking in the dark and gloomy woods........... It all started when I was hovering outside
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THE HOUSE Arriving at a new school is scary and nerve racking. I’ve moved five times since I was six‚ but Dad said this would be the last time for sure. I’m hopeful‚ but I should never keep my hopes too high. The first day was good‚ I even started to talk to some of the other guys. They all seem nice and chill‚ everyone does for the most part‚ but it’s high school‚ people aren’t always what they seem. After talking to my parents and the guys who I had become friends with
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Gothic fiction writing: As I make my way over the hill I see dark clouds surrounding the place I’ve been heading towards‚ the large estate that my uncle and aunt own. It has a large building that looks somewhat like a castle‚ it is a cream colour with blue roofs but still manages to look dark and mysterious and has an eerie feel surrounding it. It is long and on half of it is about 10 floors high with little towers coming out above the main roof‚ the other half is lower down‚ only about 5 stories
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