Sample #4
The light flickered twice, caught and held. Sam stood at the top of the ancient staircase, his eyes wide, staring down into the opaque shadows cast by the unshaded bulb above his head. The glaring light from the ancient fixture ended at the threshold that squatted at the foot of the stairs. Beyond the gaping wooden frame was thick, almost tangible darkness. Sam looked down, nervously peering into the cracks in the rotting steps. Nothing stirred in the dusty darkness. Silence so intense that even his ears could not detect any sound slid around him, pushing a knifelike sliver of fear into his soul.
Mr. Harrison stood before the class, scanning their faces with eyes hardened by years of cynicism and cruelty. The wrinkles on his own reddened face trembled. “I need someone to go down to the basement and get some floor wax. Who wants to go?”
At the mention of the basement, Sam felt the first tingling spark of fear in his consciousness. The basement! The staircase! He frantically blocked the images the clawed the borders of his mind. He would not remember!
Mr. Harrison’s face moved stealthily over the classroom. His eyes found Sam. Sam’s own eyes were glazed as if her were fighteing some titanic inner conflict. Onlu Mr. Harrison knew what had happened to Sam on that January night –only he had heard Sam’s thin wail of fear as he entered the basement. His face twisted into a smile.
“Sam, would you get the wax, please? Sam’s head snapped up. He struggled to break the grip of the silence forced on him since birth – born without his tongue. Sam’s lungs convulsed, trying to force out a sound of fear, of refusal, of anything. He met Mr. Harrison’s gaze – and saw the truth.
He knew that Mr. Harrison would make him suffer if he refused. Sam rose from his seat and walked to the door. “Thank you, Sam.” He nodded and stepped into the hall.
Now he stood at the top of those abhorred stairs, his hear pounding. His preternaturally acute hearing detected Mr. Harrison’s droning voice, the automobiles outside, the song of a bird 0 and the paralyzing silence from the staircase and portal below.
That silence frightened him more than any sound.
As he lifted his foot, a single note emanated from the straining planks. The note quivered for a moment in the still air, then fell – was sucked down – into the doorway below. Silence. Sam stepped down.
Chaos! A cacophony of shrieks rose around him, squirming away into the cracks of the ancient walls. Sam closed his eyes, silently battling the scream that he felt rising within him. The groans from the boards swooped around him, one by one returning to the unhallowed unknown beneath the staircase. Sam opened his eyes, trembling. The light bulb flickered. He fought the primal urge to turn and run from the horrendous cries of the tortured staircase and the more horrendous silence of the basement below. Sam’s hands clenched convulsively, cold sweat filling his palms. He lifted his other foot slowly, trying to avoid that single unbearable creak.
He shifted his weight. Darkness swirled in the portal below. Slowly, slowly his foot descended…
SCREECH! The demoniac chorus swarmed up once more, surrounding him. Again he closed his eyes, but this time his feeble struggle against the rising shrieks was futile. The screams swelled, redoubled and ascended, approaching that final climax at which
point Sam knew that he would go insane. The increasing sound – oh God –louder-louder-LOWER!
Found at http://educationnorthwest.org/traits
Mr. Harrison stood before the class, scanning their faces with eyes hardened by years of cynicism and cruelty. The wrinkles on his own reddened face trembled. “I need someone to go down to the basement and get some floor wax. Who wants to go?”
At the mention of the basement, Sam felt the first tingling spark of fear in his consciousness. The basement! The staircase! He frantically blocked the images the clawed the borders of his mind. He would not remember!
Mr. Harrison’s face moved stealthily over the classroom. His eyes found Sam. Sam’s own eyes were glazed as if her were fighteing some titanic inner conflict. Onlu Mr. Harrison knew what had happened to Sam on that January night –only he had heard Sam’s thin wail of fear as he entered the basement. His face twisted into a smile.
“Sam, would you get the wax, please? Sam’s head snapped up. He struggled to break the grip of the silence forced on him since birth – born without his tongue. Sam’s lungs convulsed, trying to force out a sound of fear, of refusal, of anything. He met Mr. Harrison’s gaze – and saw the truth.
He knew that Mr. Harrison would make him suffer if he refused. Sam rose from his seat and walked to the door. “Thank you, Sam.” He nodded and stepped into the hall.
Now he stood at the top of those abhorred stairs, his hear pounding. His preternaturally acute hearing detected Mr. Harrison’s droning voice, the automobiles outside, the song of a bird 0 and the paralyzing silence from the staircase and portal below.
That silence frightened him more than any sound.
As he lifted his foot, a single note emanated from the straining planks. The note quivered for a moment in the still air, then fell – was sucked down – into the doorway below. Silence. Sam stepped down.
Chaos! A cacophony of shrieks rose around him, squirming away into the cracks of the ancient walls. Sam closed his eyes, silently battling the scream that he felt rising within him. The groans from the boards swooped around him, one by one returning to the unhallowed unknown beneath the staircase. Sam opened his eyes, trembling. The light bulb flickered. He fought the primal urge to turn and run from the horrendous cries of the tortured staircase and the more horrendous silence of the basement below. Sam’s hands clenched convulsively, cold sweat filling his palms. He lifted his other foot slowly, trying to avoid that single unbearable creak.
He shifted his weight. Darkness swirled in the portal below. Slowly, slowly his foot descended…
SCREECH! The demoniac chorus swarmed up once more, surrounding him. Again he closed his eyes, but this time his feeble struggle against the rising shrieks was futile. The screams swelled, redoubled and ascended, approaching that final climax at which
point Sam knew that he would go insane. The increasing sound – oh God –louder-louder-LOWER!
Found at http://educationnorthwest.org/traits