Kukrall/Trelles
English 1AP4 2 February 2015
Outside was a dark, eerie, moonless Caribbean night; the calm before a storm. Rainsford prowled around the frigid medieval bedroom, eyes fixed on general Zaroff’s stealthy steps that followed his. Suddenly, thunder struck malevolently! The wind slammed the bedroom windows shut; rain pounded harshly on the palatial chateau as if it could pierce through its impenetrable walls. the only source of light flickered off, leaving the room in utter darkness.
“Well, general,” Rainsford mocked. “You see i am still alive.” General Zaroff did not reply. Rainsford only heard the howling of fierce wind outside accompanied by the scraping of the general’s boots on the frigid, hard, and uneven surface. Rainsford quickly ran to the direction of the sound. He felt along the cold, rough walls that enclosed the stale atmosphere blindly.
Nearby, he caught a familiar wisp of musty cigarette fumes entwined with a scent of liquor.
Alert, Rainsford spun around! He blocked the swishing knife coming in his direction in time.
The knife clattered to the floor.
Zaroff chuckled. “You’ve done well, Rainsford. But only one can indulge himself in the soft, excellent bed.” Rainsford scrambled for the walls in the opaque space. Although unaware of where he was going, Rainsford was desperate to put some distance between the general and himself. His heart thumped frequently. He breathed rapidly. I will not lose my nerve! thought
Rainsford as he composed himself. The tangible bile of terror slowly crept into Rainsford’s parched throat as Rainsford realized that he had lost track of Zaroff’s position in the gloom! As if
to ease Rainsford’s fear, a violent gust of frozen wind blew through the window shutters, carrying Zaroff’s scent of cigarette and liquor with it.
With an approximate position of Zaroff, Rainsford frantically rummaged through his wet clothes for a snagged tree branch or a rock. Finally, Rainsford’s finger