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Original writing - I twisted the stiff doorknob, my hand slipping against the wet shiny brass.

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John Mason 11/02/03 English Coursework: Original writing I twisted the stiff doorknob, my hand slipping against the wet shiny brass. I clenched tighter and tried once more to rotate it, this time succeeding. I had to keep a tight grip on the handle as the screaming wind nearly threw the door against the inner wall. I placed one sodden boot inside the door and onto the mat, squinting at the uncomfortable squelching noise produced. I twisted my body, so as to position my weight behind the door, still with one hand firmly gripping the knob that refused to be held by my numbed hand. I pushed against the door until I heard the satisfying click of the door locking. The angered wind still persistently pounding against the frail wooden door, which, I feared, would not last very long. I turned, every individual movement making the icy water penetrate deeper into my rapidly declining dry layers of clothing, peering through the thick layer of hazy cigarette smoke that made my eyes water and it nearly impossible to make out detailed objects in the room. I realised that after my struggle with the door I had forgotten to wipe my feet, consequently doing so, allowing time for my eyes to adjust to the thick smoke. The bar was empty apart from three figures to my right, who silenced as they saw me, and a man behind the bar. I approached the small plump barman, who was leant upon the bar, as I did so the figures began to whisper to each other again. In front of him stood a glass with the reminiscence of a strong spirit. His face was as red as a tomato, this must have been what first attracted me to him as it was as though his head was a beacon among the deep grey smoke, and he had not one hair upon his head. ...read more.


"Aye, we have seen it, but 'tis not a sight for the faint-hearted." He declared. "Well, could you...show me this ship?" I think that the drink and lack of sleep must have all gone to my head. "No! No. I will not go to the ship," He seemed quite averse to taking me anyway near the ship, "'Tis more than most men deserve to be encountered with the ship once, I'll not go a second time." "Well then, could you tell me where I could find such a ship?" I was beginning to believe increasingly less in this tale. "You'll find it at the port." "Where will I find it in the port, will it be difficult to find?" I did not fancy spending all night in the storm for nothing, even if the weather had eased off a bit. The man with the slit eyes chuckled. "You do not find the ship," he paused, and lowered his voice to a whisper, "the ship will find you." Lightning struck just outside the door illuminating the slit-eyed man's laugh that had now evolved into an evil open-mouthed cackle. Thunder clashed above my head, I jumped making the glasses on the table wobble. I reached out to steady them but my hand was shaking, only making the situation worse by knocking over another glass as I did so. I apologised and pulled a handkerchief from my pocket to mop up the ale, and promptly stuffed it back into my pocket after doing so. "Anyway, I don't believe in such nonsense, I'll meet you back here tomorrow afternoon to prove that I have survived the night and there is no such tale." I replied cockily. Silence again swiftly swept smiles and relaxation off of the table. "This is no tale boy," whispered the man with the hat, his voice escalating, "This is terror like you have never known!" ...read more.


I had not been sitting for long when I heard something approach, I did not run and I did not move, I did not even breathe. I could hear footsteps get heavier and closer and I could smell death in the air. I still sat, my body beyond movement. The smell was horrendous, a musty mixture of rotting flesh and sea-salt, and I could of thrown up where I was sitting. Eventually the footsteps carried whatever devilish creature had been outside away from where I was sitting. I breathed a deep sigh of relief and began to pull the side of my trousers down to bare my hip so I could see the extent of the damage. The pain was tremendous and I nearly passed out. A large gaping wound was covering the skin on the bone of my hip, and a wooden splinter was lodged into my side. I began to pull it out when I suddenly stopped. I could feel a cold breath on my neck breathing slowly. In and out, in and out, blowing the wet hair away from the lobe of my ear. I turned slowly and looking back at me was the most hideous face that I could have ever imagined. I looked into the hollow, sunken eyes that stared back at mine. In them I could see the reflection of my own face, a look of utter terror. "The mutilated body of Mr. Jeffries was found next morning when he did not arrive for a previously arranged meeting with a one Mr. McDuff," The slit-eyed man smiled at the thought of his name being broadcast live. "The murder is being treated as very suspicious and any witnesses have been asked to call-." The man who did not speak leant over the ale on the table to the turn the wireless radio off. "I told him, 'tis not a tale," said the man with the hat. The three men chuckled to themselves as a bolt of lightning struck nearby and a crack of thunder crashed overhead. Their chuckles turned to cackles, cackles of pure evil. ...read more.

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