Court of Angels

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Hi... I'm only 14 and this is supposed to be an attempt at 19th Century gothic horror. It isn't very scary but it is very descriptive. I would appreciate comments on this piece of work. Thank you!

Submitted: April 14, 2017

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Submitted: April 14, 2017

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During the dark, damp trip home in the crisp, winter air of November, when the mist would engulf the shadowy figures in the horizon, he noticed the eerie silence whisper sharply in his ear. He came to a halt in front of an abandoned, but well preserved, building that clutched on to an aura of suffering – endured over several generations - and the lifelessness of a burnt-out candle. 

The gates held well but were rusted over numerous centuries. The powerful, sickly stench of acid and corroding iron wafted into the thick mists. Through the rain, the man could barely make out the words engraved into one ofthe gates: "Court of Angels".Without mercy, the rain battered the wrought iron, which solemnly stood its ground, as it had done so for years. Shielding his eyes from the downpour, the man walked through, leaving behind the painful, orchestrated screeches of metal tearing into the music of clashing thunder... 

His eyes wandered over the magnificent front door; they darted from the intricately etched wood to the golden, spherical orb, which functioned as the door knob. A twitch of curiosity struck the man as he found himself lost inside the golden, spellbinding oceans swirling in the orb. His eyes focused on the glorious reflection of immaculate hair and a finely-stitched, Swiss tailored waistcoat... The man smiled. 

Suddenly, the sound of a glass ornate shattering into oblivion rattled from inside, through the thick, ebony crafted door. In a state of frenzy, the man barrelled his entire weight into the majestic barrier, which separated him from whoever was in trouble inside. Again and again he desperately propelled himself at the towering rectangle, as panic stabbed him continuously. With a final, hammering blow, he felt the door give way, and he stormed into the "Court of Angels".  

The silence was deafening... It slithered across the room – awoken by the echo of footsteps within its walls – and wrapped around the man, like a boa constrictor, slowly crushing him as his eyes once again ambled over his surroundings. The house stood still, and so did time. The teal paint was peeling off at a rapid pace, and the windows seemed to stare back at him, almost as if they were challenging himto step closer... The man's eyes stretched over two sovereign staircases, which curved up towards a large, regal, golden-framed painting. Just then, he was attacked bya compelling urge to move towards the painting. In a trance, the man made his way up the polished, marble steps, still hooked on to the painting's seductive lure... 

His eyes innocently dawdled over the perfectly calculated brush strokes,the complex but direct medley of detail, and the bold blend of extravagant colors, which diffused over the entire image to frame an assortment of striking patterns that sparkled in each others bond... Suddenly, the man smiled. Uncertainty flooded his thoughts as his eyes focused on the glorious canvasof immaculate hair and a finely-stitched, Swiss tailored waistcoat. Fear sizzled through the man's veins as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. His face drained in color as his eyes wavered over the corner of the painting, where stood a guiltless, beautiful boy with wide, ocean-blue eyes... He had the most plush and elegantwings, which radiated a frosty complexion of crystal white through the strokes of color... He stared innocently at the man, holding a .44 magnum. Suddenly, the boy smiled...


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