English Horror

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Gilbert Cook

Descriptive paragraphs for assignment

SETTING
Puce green mould crawls desperately up the tiled walls. Each crack and crevice is covered in
thick layers of filth that this abandoned bathroom has become to. Pipes line the broken
ceiling and run down the walls into the ground through the cracked tiles, rusted red and
leaking. The sick smell of sewerage and something rotting fills the air, and with each creak of
the pipes the room echoes as if it has no end, the noise moving on seemingly forever.
Within the reflection of the shattered mirror, a pool of crimson blood comes into view. A
different universe it shown through it, dark and bloody with the silhouette of a man
standing at the doorway. Soon the fluorescent lights flicker off and all that’s left is the smell
of wet rust which could either be from pipes on the walls or something more sinister pooled
on the ground.

CHARACTER
Blood, thick like molasses drips down from above. There are two thuds on the wooden floor
as they roll on the ground and an ominous shadow hovers over them. The shadow of a man.
His figure is thin and tall, and if he stood still enough one could mistake him for a tree. His
knuckles are whitened from his grip around the weapon, while his hands are tight, unsure
and shaking. His skin, covered in lines and folds, all telling the story of his old age. Purple
and blue veins bulge from his paper-thin skin but most of that is covered by his surprisingly
plain khaki pants and black sweater. The moon light dances off his head, smooth and bald.
No hair, no eyes brows, no eyelashes and no eyes. His sockets empty except for some pink
flesh and that same thick molasses, dripping down his face and into his thin, cracked lips. He
makes no effort to scream or cry because, after all, eyes are the window to the soul.

OBJECT / SYMBOLISM
Stephanie’s car finally came to a halt after one last sputter. With an annoyed groan she flung
open the car door and stepped into the midday sun. Her steps sent dust flying as she sighed
with her hands on her hips looking out into the distance. The city was only 20 more miles
out but the hopeless piece of junk she called her car couldn’t even drive another foot.
Barren land stretched out for miles, dusty, silent and wavering in the heat. Only the one
road stretched into nothingness with old, broken power-lines following suit. After kicking at
her tyres in frustration she turned and spotted what was unmistakably a gas station quite a
Gilbert Cook

while up the road. And with no hesitation she was off, one foot after another, glad that she
could call someone to help. As she made her way closer, she spotted a black crow perched
on a power-line. This surprised Stephanie in a way, because a dry wasteland didn’t seem like
somewhere to house any living creatures, but then she thought that the crow might be
thinking the same about her. ‘What is a city woman wearing a pencil skirt and high heels
doing out in the middle of nowhere?’, it thought. Well that’s what Stephanie thought that
the crow thought about her. And in the middle of that thought another crow joined the
power line. Both sitting in the scorching heat, staring at her. Stephanie was now close to the
gas station when three more black birds joined the other two. All staring at Stephanie with
their beady, blue eyes. Then eight more joined the party and Stephanie continued to power
on towards the station until one let out its slow, sad, song. More birds flocked to the power-
line as even more of them cried out. Within seconds the power-lines were filled from start
to finish. Black crows crying and screaming everywhere. The noise was unbearable as they
all screeched their throats raw. Stephanie’s pace quickened, her heart beating fast and her
palms becoming sweaty. She wondered where all these birds could have possibly come from
as she raced towards the Gas station. The noise was like an orchestra filled with 5-year-olds,
all doing their own thing and doing it very, very loudly. Stephanie spotted the Gas-station in
her peripherals across the road and quickened her steps. The birds begun to scream louder
and louder and Stephanie couldn’t stand it anymore as she blocked her ears and squeezed
her eyes shut. Running faster and faster. Finally, she reached the asphalt, her steps were
awkward because of the high-heels. But then it all stopped. Each bird become quiet at once
and so Stephanie stopped running to look up. Her heart froze. There was a blur of
something moving very fast and a loud thud as Stephanie got hit by a car. Her body lay
mangled on the floor, blood pooling out of her head and staining her white blouse. The first
crow gave one last slow, sad call before they all left the power-line as quickly as they
arrived.

ORIENTATION

I lurched up gasping for air. My whole body was shaking as I dragged my knees up to my
chest and started to sob hysterically. Tonight’s dream was unbelievably real, more so than
any of my nightmares had ever been before. Every breath it took, every word it whispered, I
felt it in my bones and blood. Turning me cold and silent. Its whispers would fill my ears, its
Gilbert Cook

words sharp and deep, speaking over each other as if 20 of it were there. All reminding me
of my deepest insecurities, over and over and over. I take a deep, uneven breath in and try
to think of something else.
My alarm clock read 4 A.M and some tension left my shoulders. I thought about what my
friend Jordan was talking about yesterday. He went on for hours about how 4 A.M is the
worst time to ever wake up because its too late to go back to sleep, but too early to get out
of bed. I pointed out to him that this isn’t an issue on the weekends, but he just continued
complaining. At that moment I would have given anything to hear another one of his
pointless rants. But instead I was shaking in fear, alone, awake at the worst possible time,
on a Wednesday. I didn’t even bother to think that my day could have gotten any worse.

EVENT
A chilly Autumn breeze sent fiery leaves dancing across the fields. Hundreds of orange
pumpkins lay snugly in the soil, surrounded by thick green vines. The sun has gone down a
few hours ago and the moon was out, glowing cold blue light onto the pumpkin field. The
light to Henry’s small farm house was still on as he exited the back door. Sliding on some
gum boots he made his way to the pumpkin fields to check on them one last time. He
pushed the rickety wooden gate open and picked up a shovel when a thick green vine
wrapped its way around his ankle. Henry jumped in shock believing there was someone in
his field, but when he learned that his precious pumpkin plant was the culprit, he became
even more concerned. He gripped his shovel and hit it down hard on the plants arm,
snapping it off easily, then turned to go back into his house. He was stopped again by
another one of the pumpkin’s great green arms, this time losing his balance, falling over and
dropping his shovel. Four more vines grabbed his ankles, slowly sliding their way up his legs
and dragging him deeper into the field. Henry tried to sit up, but was again interrupted by
another one of his pumpkin’s vines, wrapping its way around his waist. Henry was on his
stomach now, clawing at the earth, screaming at the top of his lungs, hoping that someone,
anyone would hear his call. Soon the vines stopped dragging him but kept him held in place.
He had been dragged all the way out into the middle of the field where his prize possession
was kept. A 300lb pumpkin he liked to call Bessy, his pride and joy. Slowly the vines started
to move him again into a sitting position as to face her. Sweat ran down Henry’s face, his
breaths quick and uneven. He stared at Bessy, in her whole orange glory, and then
Gilbert Cook

something started to move within her. A bubble formed on her skin, becoming bigger and
bigger until it popped! One huge, human eye had formed on her skin, it was green and blue
and stared at Henry, analysing him. Then another bubble formed and popped, and another,
and another, until Bessy’s whole surface was covered in mean, studying eyes. A deep
rumble came from within her, the sound of an army charging into battle. The base of her
cracked open and she flung open her mouth. A terrible scream came from within her as
pumpkin guts and seeds flew out onto poor Henry’s face. Henry let out one last pathetic
whimper before being thrown into his darling Bessy’s mouth.

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