until, at length, I found that the noise was not within my ears.
[This post is open for reactions and thread-hopping. Your pups are also welcome to go see Roderick, but he'll be completely unresponsive. All events are backdated to last night.]
Roderick is having a bad night.
Though this place is far more accommodating than he ever imagined-his hallway feels so much more like home now, with bits of his old furniture scattered around-the dead do not sleep, and the madness is spreading.
It began, earlier in the evening, with the appearance of an all-too familiar crack in the wall. He was concentrating on remembering a poem when he noticed it, at first only about an inch long.
Minutes later, it doubled in length.
And again, and again, until Roderick stumbled back in horror at the sight of the very same crack that brought the House of Usher tumbling to an end.
Now, hours later, he's seated on his favorite chaise longue, knees held to his chest, eyes wide and hair wild. The crack must mean that Madeline is haunting him-why else would it appear?-and all at once he's back home, explaining to his friend the terror plaguing him. In the empty darkness of Silent Hall, he begins to whisper. "Now hear it?-yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long-long-long-many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it..."
Madeline's heartbeat is no longer a memory. It is, instead, all around him, everywhere.
It's difficult to ignore, that dull throbbing sound that seems to grow louder and louder as time passes.
You may think it's coming from a wall, or the floor-under your bed, perhaps, where all the monsters hide at this time of night-or your ceiling, or any place you can't really get to.
It's a sound you can't quite place, at first. It's familiar, though, that much you're sure of, and there's something about it that's making the little hairs on your body stand on end-but why?
You may check the hall, or your bathroom, or maybe even your closet. Those places are silent. The noise is in your room, somewhere, the throbbing slowly intensifying to a steady, recognizable beat.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
So.
How are you going to sleep tonight, with a beating heart in your room?
Roderick is having a bad night.
Though this place is far more accommodating than he ever imagined-his hallway feels so much more like home now, with bits of his old furniture scattered around-the dead do not sleep, and the madness is spreading.
It began, earlier in the evening, with the appearance of an all-too familiar crack in the wall. He was concentrating on remembering a poem when he noticed it, at first only about an inch long.
Minutes later, it doubled in length.
And again, and again, until Roderick stumbled back in horror at the sight of the very same crack that brought the House of Usher tumbling to an end.
Now, hours later, he's seated on his favorite chaise longue, knees held to his chest, eyes wide and hair wild. The crack must mean that Madeline is haunting him-why else would it appear?-and all at once he's back home, explaining to his friend the terror plaguing him. In the empty darkness of Silent Hall, he begins to whisper. "Now hear it?-yes, I hear it, and have heard it. Long-long-long-many minutes, many hours, many days, have I heard it..."
Madeline's heartbeat is no longer a memory. It is, instead, all around him, everywhere.
It's difficult to ignore, that dull throbbing sound that seems to grow louder and louder as time passes.
You may think it's coming from a wall, or the floor-under your bed, perhaps, where all the monsters hide at this time of night-or your ceiling, or any place you can't really get to.
It's a sound you can't quite place, at first. It's familiar, though, that much you're sure of, and there's something about it that's making the little hairs on your body stand on end-but why?
You may check the hall, or your bathroom, or maybe even your closet. Those places are silent. The noise is in your room, somewhere, the throbbing slowly intensifying to a steady, recognizable beat.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
So.
How are you going to sleep tonight, with a beating heart in your room?