On returning to his sitting-room, John pulled the large wicker chair in front of the fire and sat there looking at the glowing coals. The night promised to be very cold, and the wind whistled down the chimney, increasing the comfortable sensation of the clear fire. He sat watching the ruddy reflection of the firelight dancing on the panelled wall, when he noticed that a picture placed where the end of the bookcase formerly stood was not truly hung, and needed adjustment. A picture hung askew that was particularly offensive to his eyes, and he got up at once to alter it. He remembered as he went up to it that it was at this precise spot four months ago that he had lost sight of the man’s figure which he saw rise from the same wicker chair he had just been sitting on, and at this memory he felt an involuntary shudder.
He put one hand behind the picture to steady it, and as he did so his finger struck a very slight projection in the wall. He pulled the picture a little to one side,and saw that what he had touched was the back of a small hinge sunk in the wall,and almost obliterated with many coats of paint. His curiosity was excited, and he took a candle from the table and examined the wall carefully. Inspection soon showed him another hinge a little further up, and by degrees he perceived that one of the panels had been made at some time in the past to open, and serve probably as the door of a cupboard. At this point a feverish anxiety to re-open this cupboard door took possession of him, and an intense excitement filled his mind. It was an excitement that we experience on the event of a discovery which we fancy may produce important results. He loosened the paint in the cracks with a penknife, and
attempted to press open the door; but his instrument was not adequate to such a purpose, and all his efforts remained ineffective. His excitement had now reached an overmastering pitch; for he anticipated, though he knew not why, some strange
discovery to be made in this sealed cupboard. He looked round the room for some weapon with which to force the door, and at length with his penknife cut away sufficient wood at the joint to enable him to insert the end of the poker in the hole.
The clock in the New College Tower struck one at the exact moment when with a sharp effort he thus forced open the door. It appeared never to have had a fastening,but merely to have been stuck fast by the accumulation of paint. As he bent it slowly
back upon the rusted hinges his heart beat so fast that he could scarcely catch his breath, though he was conscious all the while of a ludicrous aspect of his position,knowing that it was most probable that the cavity within would be found empty.
The cupboard was small but very deep, and in the obscure light seemed at first to contain nothing except a small heap of dust and cobwebs. His sense of disappointment was keen as he thrust his hand into it, but changed again in a moment to breathlessinterest on feeling something solid in what he had imagined to be only an accumulation of mould and dirt. He snatched up a candle, and holding this in one hand, with the other pulled out an object from the cupboard and put it on the table, covered as it was with the curious drapery of black and clinging cobwebs which I have seen adhering to bottles of old wine. It lay there between the dish of fruit and the decanter, veiled indeed with thick dust as with a mantle, but revealing beneath it the shape and contour of a violin.
John was excited at his discovery, and felt his thoughts confused. Yet at the same time he was half amused at his own excitement, feeling that it was childish to be moved over an event so simple as the finding of a violin in an old cupboard. He soon collected himself and took up the instrument, using great care, as he feared lest age should have rendered the wood brittle or rotten. With some vigorous puffs of breath and a little dusting with a handkerchief he removed the heavy outer coating of cobwebs, and began to see more clearly the delicate curves of the body and of the scroll. A few minutes more gentle handling left the instrument sufficiently clean to enable him to appreciate its chief points. Its seclusion from the outer world, which the heavy accumulation of dust proved to have been for many years, did not seem to have damaged it in the least; and the fact of a chimney-flue passing through the wall at no great distance had no doubt conduced to maintain the air in the cupboard at an equable temperature. So far as he was able to judge, the wood was as sound as when it left the maker’s hands; but the strings were of course broken, and curled up in little tangled knots. The body was of a light-red colour, with a varnish of peculiar lustre and softness. The neck seemed rather longer than ordinary, and the scroll was remarkably bold and free.
The violin which John was in the habit of using was a good make –a Pressenda,given to him on his fifteenth birthday by Mr. Thoresby, his guardian. It was of that maker’s later and best period, and a copy of the Stradivarius model. John took this
from its case and laid it side by side with his new discovery, meaning to compare them for size and form. He perceived at once that while the model of both was identical, the superiority of the older violin in every detail was so marked as to
convince him that it was undoubtedly an instrument of exceptional value. The extreme beauty of its varnish impressed him vividly, and though he had never seen a genuine Stradivarius, he felt a conviction gradually gaining on him that he stood in
the presence of a masterpiece of that great maker. On looking into the interior he found that surprisingly little dust had penetrated into it, and by blowing through the sound-holes he soon cleared it sufficiently to enable him to discern a label. He put
the candle close to him, and held the violin up so that a little patch of light fell through the sound-hole on to the label. His heart leapt with a violent pulsation as he read the characters, “Antonius Stradiuarius Cremonensis faciebat, 1704.” Under
ordinary circumstances it would naturally be concluded that such a label was a forgery, but the conditions were entirely altered in the case of a violin found in a forgotten cupboard, with proof so evident of its having remained there for a very long period.
From The Lost Stradivarius by J Meade Falkner
From 11+ paper from City of London School for Girls
What do you think happens next? Write the next part of the story.
#Chloe
John clutched the violin tightly, wondering how it ended up in a secret room in his house. The Stradivarius must have been worth lots of money; possibly even a billion pounds, he thought, stroking the smooth, varnished surface of the violin. Should he sell it? It was tempting to think of the riches he would earn if he handed the Stradivarius over. John sat down and stared hard at the violin thinking. Suddenly, his surroundings dissolved, and John found himself in an old-fashioned workshop. An old man stood at a stable, carving something out of a log of wood. He stood with his back to John murmuring something incomprehensible. It took a while for John to realise that he was in a violin workshop with tens of violins crowding the walls and wood shavings littering the floor. The old man took a break and turned round to sit down on the bench beside him. In midturn, he stopped and stared right at John, a huge smile spreading across his face, but John felt that the man couldn’t see him at all and as if to prove his point, the old man walked straight through him.
#Tiger
When the elderly man had sauntered through his transparent body, John’s eyes snapped open in panic and he froze in the spot. He gave a strangled, faltering whisper to himself of what he had witnessed. He was in another world!
The old man hunched his back and continued his work, carving delicately a violin, shaped rather like the antique instrument John held. Unexpectedly, John observed that a black, stooped figure stood near the boot cupboard, its face was unrecognisable if it was a man or a woman. Later on, John noticed that the old man put a petite, miniature case inside the violin, sticking it carefully to the interior of the body, then covering the remaining gap with a thin piece of wood. In a split second, the hooded figure, now familiar in the shape of a man, took a few steps forwards and snatched the Stradivarius from the owner’s hands. “You dare hide it! This is mine, and it belongs to me, not you,” roared the mysterious man. “It is what you owe me” The old man shuddered and shook, giving a deathly moan: “You will be sorry, Vorderman, you will!” He started to shout in a voice more than an old man, perhaps he knew it was the end, and time had come. His voice, shrill and harsh like the shriek of a seagull, was full of violence and despair. John was frantic when he heard the screech, he screwed his eyes tight and rammed his fingers into his ears to block out the screams, afraid of a banshee popping her head in the room to give him a fright. The unknown, young man clutched his hands to the elder’s mouth, then pushed a clean dagger from his pocket as well as a pair of black gloves. The old man gave a faint shriek and finally collapsed on the floor. The familiar scent of blood cloaked the room. All was black.
John found himself stroking the violin after the decidedly horrid event. Now to think of it, he nearly witnessed a murder commit. He invited himself to the large wicker chair that has been standing motionlessly near the blazing fire. The room was empty and cold and the puzzled man was only too glad to be warmed. The young gentleman looked out of the window; there laid a pristine blanket of snow on the cobbled streets. Footsteps crunched under the layer of pure-white, which coated the hard, revolting soil. Yes, it was winter again and he had much to think of, the pirouetting snowflakes drifted aimlessly from the grey, encircling sky to the white world of lost. ‘How can this be?’ inquired John to himself, for he knew that no living being had ever teleported to the past. Having the idea that he was not focusing in such curious, strange happenings, John revised himself to the name “Vorderman”. Yes, he heard of it, no wonder. Vorderman…
#Lawrence
He was unsure where and when, but he was certain he had heard, no, seen it before. THUD. The violin lay on the carpet. The holes were like eyes staring back at him, a puzzled look on its face. He had remembered. When he was young, maybe even five, his family would take them to a graveyard every year to remember their ancestors. He remembered now. A gravestone, with the top-right part missing, read: Allexi Vordermc. It was the name of his great grandfather, although he never really found the last part of the name, the C could have been half an A and the N could be completely gone. But why would his great grandfather want to kill the famous Antonious Greechev?
Before he could comprehend, he noticed a crackling noise, he froze. A small patch of carpet had caught fire, a medium patch now, it grew larger, larger and larger. He leapt up just as the chair and door caught fire. His only hope was the bookcase in the corner of the room and his voice. He threw the violin atop the highest shelf and began to climb. The hardback copies scraped painfully against his skin, but it was better than being burned alive. Part of the floor had collapsed near the window and the rest was charred to a crisp. The fire gnashed at his toes. BANG! Broken shards of glass blew across the room. The change in temperature had turned it to powder. Although the bookcase was strong, flames and a violent shake tore it apart. He fell, screaming.
The ground swallowed him, and he landed in a pool of freezing water. Almost instantly, he jumped up and pinched two parts of his shirt. Peeling it off his quaking body, he looked up to a dark street, cobbled with two miniature trenches running down the center, made by at least three generations of horse carts. The only source of illumination was a dim street light every ten meters or so. Around the fourth light, a black shape was hurrying away from him, and in the shape, was the silhouette of a violin.
#Chloe
“Stop! Come back!” John yelled, sprinting across the cobbled streets “Give me back my violin!” Although he was running his hardest, the dark shape ahead of him was faster and soon he was out of sight. Someone obviously did not want John to have the violin, but who was that person? He stood there wondering for a moment before realising that he had no idea where he was and that he needed to get home. He set about walking up the street hoping to recognise some place he knew. After a few silent minutes of searching, John decided he must be in another world and resolved to find that person who stole his violin.
Fuming, he stormed to the side of the road and sat down on a doorstep. He had lost his violin, the antique he had just found, and it had been stolen. It was no good just sitting there, he thought, as his stomach started grumbling a few minutes later; he needed to get some food. Where would he get it from though? The town seemed deserted despite there being evidence that people had lived there, since ornaments stood in windowsills, elegant animals carved out wood and stone coated with a thick layer of dust. Patches of dust had been removed giving John the feeling that someone had been there recently.
Choosing a random house, he strode to the front door and knocked. The door was open. Cautiously, he pushed it and it swung open, revealing a long hallway with doors leading to different rooms ending in a spiralling staircase. The floor was also covered with a thick layer of dust, but somehow disturbed. There were not any footprints, but it was clear that it had been shifted. Shivering slightly, advanced into a room with a door painted in white, though the paint was peeling off; he needed a shirt and guessed that this might be a bedroom. Opening the door, he looked inside and screamed.
# Tiger
In gasping breath, John looked in front of him – it was Astrid Greechev, AntoniousGreechev’s granddaughter.
“H-How?” spluttered John with a pale face, breaking in a sore, hoarse voice, “You were dead years ago!’’
Astrid gave a faint smile but it disappeared as a grave expression spread on her mysterious face. “It’s you, isn’t it? John Vorderman” murmured Astrid.
John was flabbergasted and speechless when he heard the first word being said. He shut and opened his mouth like a goldfish, with no sound coming out of it.
The young maiden went straight to the point, “You killed Grandpa Antonious, I know you did, I was there. You stole hour violin and the case” hissed Astrid, in a strangled voice.
“What do you expect from me? “John took a few paces backwards and stuttered “I didn’t mean to do any harm, that man has your Stradivarius now.
“What man?” asked Astrid, sounding more amicable, suddenly dropping her voice ‘Tell me about it’.
“A hooded man with a scar on his cheek” replied John, relieved that no arguments were to be done.
“What?” blurted Astrid, with a strange voice “You lost it to a stranger? Why didn’t you chase after it then?”
There was an awkward silence. But the silence was interrupted by a hooded man looking through the window. Suddenly, she realised that no one would believe her but John for he knew the story as well.
‘‘I have the case” She confessed in a husky, gruff voice, “He’s back coming for it, he knew there’s no violin without a case.’’
“Case?” wondered John out loud “What’s in the case?”
“No time,” uttered Astrid as she swiped some things in her bag. “You’d better pack two. We’re off in two seconds”
“Umm… did you say ‘we’?” questioned the gentleman suspiciously.
“Yep,” said Astrid “You want to survive or not?”
With a deep sigh, John rummage for his bag and stood up. John gave a weak smile, unknown what tomorrow would be; he thought about the bit when Astrid said ‘You killed grandpa Antonious’ and seemed to comprehend it – Astrid’s father had murdered his grandpa so it was mostly a fair kill. One life for one life.
The hooded man had climbed up the window and began to lower himself down. “Run!” cried John and tugged Astrid’s arm “It’s al; about survival!”
#Lawrence
He had no idea where the words came from, and neither did he have the time to wonder where they did, because in the door frame was a void of darkness. There was nothing inside.He turned to Astrid for help but she was gone, all that was left was bony finger protruding out of the darkness with the cloak. ”You stole everythin from me…” He did not need to be told, he would rather die than have to look at it any longer. Leaping throught the frame a split second before the creature captured him, a biting cold overcame him. So cold it could freeze the warmest of hearts. He was falling, endlessly. His stomach writhed inside his body, trying to remove itseft of the discomfort the void caused it.
It finally ended when he landed solftly on a bed. It smelt strongly of somethingh between strawbweerries, olives, sawdrst ? It was his own bedroom, after close inspection, but before the bought the house. All the furniture ws gone asnd replaced by a large closet, bedand table, upon which a miror stood. Suddenly a sawing sound scattered it self across the house. Cautiously, he slunk down the stairs, The sawing green louder. It might have been coming from the study. Might . There was no turning back now.
#Chloe
John entered the study cautiously, in case someone was there, but it was empty. All that was there was two desks and some high stacks of new books. The place seemed dusty, but John could tell that a person had been living there. More noises echoed around the house, like panting and banging. It was coming from the sitting room. Silently, John tip-toed upstairs and through the corridor leading to the sitting room as the noises became louder. Peeping through the keyhole, he saw a man sawing through part of the wall and with a shock, he realised it was the cupboard that he had found the Stradivarius in. As the man turned round, John saw he was a dark-haired stranger with a scar on his cheek and his ragged clothes were grey and stained.
He was pale as though he lived in the dark, despite the bright sunlight streaming through the open window. On a stool next to him lay a beautiful violin which John recognised as the Stradivarius. Leaning forward, John gazed intently at the man watching to see what he would do next and saw him pick up the delicate violin and place it gently inside.
Suddenly, John heard footsteps coming up the stairs and darted inside a nearby cupboard which he knew was for spare pieces and closed the door behind him. The man in the sitting room must have panicked too because he heard scuffling and guessed he had pushed something in front of the secret room.
#Chloe
Within a second, they were back in Rob’s house and now that the arrows had stopped raining down, the room was in chaos. The bed sheets were ripped and pictures had fallen down and smashed. In the middle of it all, stood a bony, wrinkled man grinning maliciously. “Good-bye, heroes.” He spun on the spot and vanished in a puff of purple smoke. “This is not good.” Murmured Avery. He grabbed John’s hand and spun on the spot. They seemed to shoot upwards through the ceiling and into the sky though they were actually only speeding after the man in front. It might have just be minutes, or even just seconds but to John it have been centuries that they shot through the chilly night air. When it looked like it would never end and that they would spend forever chasing this person, they landed on the wet pavement again “I’m sorry John. I’ve lost him.” Avery wailed. Then he cursed. “I should have known that he would have come. We will have to chase him down and bet him at his own game. Fortunately, I know this man so we aren’t dealing with the unknown. In the meantime, we should find out a bit more about that evil spirit who was impersonating Astrid. We could start by getting a lead on that.” Before they could make their plan however, there was a blinding flash of rainbow light and Astrid appeared before them. “You do not need to find me for I am already here. I will surrender if you go to the lost mountain to regain the secret treasure. It is not that easy.” She smirked. “do you agree?”
“we do.” Avery had stepped up boldly. The last thing John felt like doing. Great. One more thing to find.
#Tiger
John didn’t make a single sound as the man made his search. With the gap between the two sides of the closed wardrobe, he could clearly see what the man was doing. For some reason, the man put a white liquid which he must have thought it was superglue all over the room-sofa, wardrobes, cupboard and curtains without noticing how idiotic and stupid he looked, grinning broadly in his fat face and how much damage he just made. John guessed that it was to stop himself from escaping. John wondered why the man didn’t ring the police or make the fairly obvious search to the cupboard. Maybe he was that crazy criminal on loose he had seen on The Daily Telegraph who had a serious incident of brain fever. John thought the man had gone nuts. The man had put his gloves and boots on (which were much too large for him); John reckoned that they were size 13. A faint call from the study screeched to the stout man and he pompously waddled like a pig, knocking a valuable china vase to the floor. However, the pig-like man paid no heed for it, as it shattered into a million pieces, for another piercing scream could be clearly heard. The man shuffled clumsily and headed straight to the study without closing the door, but his master’s parrot squawk and some insulting words sent him chasing back, locking the door and scuttling back again. After the sound of footsteps faded away, John was almost certain that the brainless man left the key on the other side. With this piece of unsure but comforting information, John sighed and racked his brains to gain some knowledge. Ah-ha! He got it! Later, John knew that it wasn’t superglue – it wasn’t even glue! It was that coconut drink, Alpros. He could have guessed! After all, that man was so feather-brained…
Without worrying, John got across the world of ‘superglue’. Alas, of course! The door was locked and bolted. However, it was no match for John -if only the key was on the keyhole… Now, John knew what to do. He stretched his arms for his bag and got out a piece of paper from The Daily Telegraph and a thin piece of wire. John almost had everything in his rucksack; he had bottle caps, pens, paper, a small bundle of tools… this extraordinary bag was filled with endless useful things. Then, he reached out for the newspaper and stuffed it under the filthy, unwashed mat, laid it carefully and smoothed the rough surface to straighten the four corners of the newspaper. After that, he quietly pulled out his thin, long wire, before chucking it inside the lock and jingled the wire until a ‘THUMP’ echoed the room and dust enveloped the air. Yes, he got it, though he was not sure if the man in the study had heard it. His late grandfather had taught him this, and this was the first time John had tried it. The old trick was often used by his grandpa, and it came in handy frequently, especially in detention. No wonder his grandpa’s teachers were often flabbergasted by this supercalifragilisticexpialidocious trick. John dragged the little bit of paper, which was on his side, and miraculously as if by magic, the key was on his very hands. Not wasting a moment of time, he hurriedly fitted the key to the keyhole and turned the knob in haste. The knob was rotted and stiff, so it was hard to handle it. Eventually, John managed the situation by using all his strength with both of his numb hands. But before he stepped out, he peeped his head over the exit and made sure that no one was there and after scanning the hallway, he took a few paces forward and crept in the corridor, cautious of any sudden appearance. John slithered back to the foyer. With curiosity like a cat, he peered into the study room once more, this time he heard a faint noise of sawing, but he observed that no one was in the room. The door was unfortunately tightly shut, so John has no chance to explore. The sound of sawing drummed again, but this time the room faded away.
#Lawrence
The warm glow of the fire vanished and was replaced by darkness, there was nothing bright enough to give him the vaguest idea where he was. All he could see were three beams of light coming from a barred window around ten feet from the ground. His joints stiffened as a gust of wind threw his hair wildly across his face much so that it was uncomfortable enough to give him the courage to raise a trembling arm and flick the locks into their usual position. Having finally recovered from the shock of seeing what had just happened, he wondered what those people were doing in his house. They certainly didn’t live there. From the crack between the door of the cupboard he could only see so much, so he could really trust his eyes.An image of the pig-man with a bump shaped like a violin in his side kept appearing in his head. Did they steal it? But then what was the violin the man had placed inside th cupboard? Was it a fake? If it was, the model he found was a forgery after all! Where was the real one now? Suddenly, a pain near his temple struck him down like lightning to a tree. A cold, concrete floor crunched into the side on his head and that was all he remembered from that day.
#Chloe
“John! John!” Mr Thoresby was standing next to me, looking anxious. “Are you all right?” I looked around. We were in the sitting room just as it had been after I had found the Stradivarius and I was lying on a sofa, tightly holding the violin, curled up in a ball.
“What happened?” He asked gently, sounding concerned. “Nothing, just a bad dream.” I muttered. Mr Thoresby didn’t look convinced. “And where did you get that violin?” he asked, giving me a stern look.“Fine! I’ll tell you.” I sat up slowly and told him everything, leaving out the part about the meeting with Astrid which I didn’t have any idea about what it meant.
“Well,” said Mr Thoresby, “That’s interesting, because I thought that the house used to belong to a man, just like what you described.”
I stared around the room thinking everything over. The dream had seemed so real though he had a feeling part of it at least was seeing into the past.
After a long silence, Mr Thoresby spoke out what John was thinking,” What if it was true?”
Images of what had just happened flashed through my mind as I followed Mr Thoresby into the dining room an hour later. Images of the ghostly hand poking through the doorway and of the thief who had taken the violin.
# Tiger
It took John some time to notice that Douglas Thorseby was in his house. However, John was certain that most of his things were gone. His golden watch, silver ring were all vanished.
“Where are we?” asked John, as Douglas led him to an unfamiliar room “ I suppose this is another secret room?”
Mr Thorseby stroked his beard fondly and chuckled deeply.” This” he pointed “is a secret pathway to Astrid Greechev’s house.”
John stopped abruptly. “Astrid?” he whispered.” Why are we here?”
Mr Thorseby uttered forlornly, “She passed away last year due to a betrayal of her friend.”
John spoke in a hoarse, hollow voice, trembling slightly,” I think I saw him.”
Mr Thorseby stared at him with disbelief and turned away “Don’t make jokes, her death was witnessed.”
John was buried deep in his thoughts.
He knew that it wasn’t a dream – it seemed so real. But maybe it was a memory. He kept that in mind.
“Douglas?” questioned John “Why are you here?”
“Ah! I’ve been expecting this question.” Mr Thoresby said quietly, “You are in great danger – they will get you before you know it. I am your bodyguard, as told by the ministry” “You have the soul of Adam and Eve – unlike others” he added quickly.
And his voice trailed off – add it seemed far, far away.
#Lawrence
“What?” asked John, “What soul?” “This is by far the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life, who this ‘they’, and what do they want with me?!”
“Quiet!” shushed Douglas, “They could be anywhere!”
“WHO IS THIS ‘THEY’, AND WHAT DO THEY WANT FROM ME?!” demanded John, “YOU JUST RANDOMLY BREAK INTO MY HOUSE, TELL ME A TON OF LIES, SHOVE ME DOWN A DARK HOLE WHERE A DEAD PERSON USED TO LIVE, AND WON’T EVEN LET ME SPEAK!!!”
“WELL IT ISN’T MY FAULT THAT YOU DECIDED TO SHOVE YOUR BIG NOSE INTO A DUSTY CUPBOARD!” screamed Douglas, “IT ALL YOUR FAULT, ALL OF IT! THE HUNTERS WEREN’T AFTER ME ANYWAY!”
Mr. Thorseby stormed down the corridor and disappeared around the corner. John froze. Hunters. One minute, Thorseby was willing to defend him against the Hunters, the next he was alone. If only he had held his temper, everything would be fine now. He couldn’t go after Douglas and expect him to forgive himself.
What did it mean? He had no clue what the Hunters wanted with him. All he knew was that they were powerful enough for him to need the ministry’s help to protect himself, but the ship had sailed. John turned toward his last hope, lit a candle and took one last glance to his old life, then shuffled down the passage leading to Astrid Greechev’s hidden home.
#Chloe
As John walked nervously along the passage, voices were coming from ahead. Cautiously, John peered round a corner. The end of the tunnel was ahead and there, carrying what was unmistakably a violin case was the old man who he had seen stowing away the violin with his accomplice lumbering behind him. There has nothing else to be done. John sprinted back up the secret passageway, not caring about the noise he was making nor the scream of “Get him! He has it!” from behind him. He needed to get the violin. Before his pursuers had gone half-way up the passage, John was out of it and blocked the exit with everything he laid his hands on. Panting, John stumbled towards the Stradivarius which lay on the rug and picked it up. He was quite sure they were the people who were trying to steal the Stradivarius and its case. Now he thought about it they probably knew that Astrid had the case and had thought that the violin was safe in the cupboard. “They probably were the ones who murdered her too.” He thought. A surge of anger washing over him. Astrid hadn’t done anything wrong! But what was it about the violin and the case which made it special? Was it the fact that they were extremely valuable? Was it some other reason? Those questions made John think about the vision, about the Stradivarius in his hands.
# Tiger
“Come to us.” whispered a familiar voice behind him “We will help you!”
John blindly followed the voice, to his last chance of escape, wondering what would happen next. Finally, he stumbled on a rock. Under the rock, after some time, he noticed was a hidden trapdoor. Then, Joan gingerly clambered in, closing his eyes in puzzlement. THUMP! John opened his eyes again, thankful that he was still alive, then found that he arrived in a deserted room with only one solitary table. On the table, a magnificent white cloak laid invitingly to him. He could see that a note was pinned on it: This is an invisibility travelling cloak, say ‘Lumos’ and where you want to go.
Although it was anonymous, John swung the cloak around him without hesitation. He opened his mouth in astonishment and merely gaped as his body disappeared.
“Wow, cool!” John almost shouted uncontrollably, whilst dancing with joy. ‘‘This thing’s awesome!’’
Footsteps rumbled on the ground.
“He’s here somewhere.” growled a hollow, deep voice. “Get ready!’’
Oh no! It was too late, John realised that his voice was too loud, he clutched the violin tightly in despair and breathed “London, Lumos.”
Nothing moved. Only the faint trace of footsteps appeared to be heard closer.
“London, Lumos!” repeated John wildly.
Footsteps shook and creaked the floorboards again, echoing on the walls of the vacant, fragile room. John tried thinking of London so he roared and thundered for one more time.
“LONDON, LUMOS!” bellowed John again, begging for his last string of hope. He could feel the abandoned floor vibrating impatiently.
An unexpected shade of green light emerged from the flashing cloak and he fell miraculously backwards to the cobbled streets of London.
#Lawrence
The first thing he noticed was that is was now morning again in London and the Sun was beginning to rise, men in suits walked by briefcase in hand and greeted each other taking no notice of him. A young, fair boy no older than sixteen with freckles in a tattered vest and blue shirt was jogging from lampost to lampost with a step ladder and putting out the candles inside with a peculiar contraption resembling two ice-cream scoops pinned together.
His head still throbbed painfully from when he hit it on the ground, although he knew he lucky not to strike one of the sharper stones. Recovering from the trance, his awareness was immediately turned to the task of hiding this violin. John looked around the street and didn’t recall ever being here. He wanted to ask one of the people that began to flood the street but then realised he would be unable to explain how he got there and why he appeared from thin air. He decided to lie that he was a traveller that was robbed by highwaymen and then got lost, and he would go into a dark alleyway to take off the cloak so nobody saw him. John picked up the somehow undamaged violin and rushed towards a gap between two rather mishappen houses cradling the case in his arms.
Suddenly, a screech came from behind him. He turned to find a woman on the verge of fainting face as pale as milk. A single, quivering finger pointed at him.
#Chloe
“YOU!” she screeched. “YOU!” John backed away nervously and darted out of the alley. But her screams echoed in his head and her furious face seemed to follow him. “Where would he go?” John hadn’t considered where he would spend the night. Going to Mr Thoresby’s house was out of question; considering the fight they had had earlier and it wasn’t safe on the streets either. John’s own house was accessible by villains and that wouldn’t be safe even with the cloak. That left only one possible option. To go to his uncle Rob’s house. In fact, his uncle might know somewhere where he could hide. By far, his uncle’s house sounded best. So John pulled out his cloak and whispered “21 Abbey Street Lumos!” and instantly found himself flying through the air. Suddenly, he landed right in his uncle’s study. Only it wasn’t his uncle’s study at all…
Someone else was living here, John knew it. Instead of the comfy armchairs and sofas, stacks of treasures and precious items covered the floor. “Most likely, some burglar was using this place to store their stuff,” John thought.
#Tiger
John scanned the room deftly, conscious of danger. He flung his cloak around him and looked around suspiciously -was this a trap? Slowly, he crawled into the house. No sign of anyone. Hopeless of finding his Uncle Rob, he stretched himself on the sofa. CRACK! Still invisible, he fell in a deep, dark cellar. An exhausted, familiar muffled voice shook the walls, John, who felt frigid and numb, clambered where the voice should have been, whilst burning with uncontrollable curiosity. PUFF! For some reason, he was hurled in the air and landed on a cage. Yes, it was a trap. Not so far away from him, was his uncle. His uncle was purple on the face and tied on the chair, Gagged and bound his mouth was filled with a cloth, which scented like alcohol. John looked at him with horror. Not wanting to reveal himself, he swiftly cut the ropes and removed the cloth in his uncle’s mouth. RUMBLE! RUMBLE! Someone was coming. Quickly, John grabbed his uncle and muttered “Lumos, Haling’s street.’’
Arriving at Haling’s street, John revealed him from under the cloak. Soon, whilst his elder was nearly clear of what had happened, his uncle was blurting out what he remembered…
#Lawrence
“There were these men!” he cried, “They told me there was some varius thing in my house and forced me to tell them where it was!”
“What did these men look like?” asked John
“They were wearing masks,” he said, having recovered from the shock “One was very short and another much taller, the shorter one had a squeakier voice and call the other one ‘master’ ”
“Then, ” Rob continued, “one day I heard a woman’s voice screaming at the men upstairs, then the men left, I don’t know what happened to the woman, the men left only about an hour or so ago.”
John was confused. The ‘varius’ thing must have been the violin! And the woman had to be Astrid! The men were the people that were in his house earlier! But they had the fake violin, how did they know it wasn’t real? He had a million more questions he wanted to ask his uncle, but just as he opened his mouth, He heard a voice.
“10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1…”
Huayi
When the unfathomable voice got to zero, bright, yellow light hit John and it was so powerful that he had to squint but when the mysterious light ceased, the place around him was not Haling’s street anymore, he was in a decrepit and destitute land, surrounded with murky mud that squelched beneath him as he trudged about in this strange and eccentric place. The habitats and animals looked extremely monstrous as the birds that just perched on the trees had three, large heads that turned and twisted back and forth while the dark, red eyes (if you observe it attentively) would glare at you as if you were their antagonist. The sky was black, as black as ink, as black as the blackest black you can think of as if it had never been daylight before. Small, dilapidated dwellings looked like it has never been occupied had dirty, straw roofs and a stick-made door that even a tiny breeze can make it collapse.
John crouched down in one of them and what he saw in front of him, lying dead and blood all over him with the most bloodiest dagger he has ever seen blistered in his chest, was his dearest Uncle Rob, spread on the concrete floor, not breathing nor any symbols of life. John stared in horror as he knelt down beside him, sulking and praying that this was all a joke and cried,’’ why does this have to happen to me?’’ Suddenly, he found a crumpled note next to him which he uncrumpled and it was cryptic and extremely bemusing but he managed to read the first 3 words which broke his heart and this was,’’ I love you.’’ He cried even more at this point but carried on reading and this was what it said: ‘ To my dearest John, I am sorry to break this to you but you are going to handle all of this yourself now since that I am gone and no one else is beside you but all you need to do is when you fell scared and solitude just think ‘ be brave.’ I guess you are wondering why I am dead but that is because of a reason that you will only understand when you are older.
Your beloved Uncle, Rob.’
#Chloe
“No!” John howled. It was all over for him. He had no one left to help him and no where left to go. He might as well give up the Stradivarius now. But no. He, John, would keep on fighting. However, some things needed to be sorted out first. Where was he? Who else was here? And how did he get here? Obviously, someone else was here because they killed Uncle Rob, but how had they transported him and his uncle to this island? He could easily go back with the cloak, but this did surprise him. John choked back a sob. Just thinking about the whole affair made him realise just how alone he was in the world. Nobody was left to him now that all his family were dead.
Nothing however would deter John from avenging his uncle’s death and searching for Astrid because some instinct told him that she was still alive. Suddenly, a voice started calling out “10, 9, 8, 7,” startled, John stepped back and felt a dagger at his neck. He turned sharply and saw a band of teenagers, around his age, holding knives and shields and wearing ragged shirts and jeans. “It was you!” John hissed, “you killed my uncle, didn’t you?” The boy in front laughed scornfully “That old fool! He tried to reason with me.” He put on a wheezy imitation and gave a high, cold, laugh. “Now hand over that violin or else.”
“Why on earth should I?” John retorted. At that very moment, the mysterious voice carried on its enumeration, “4, 3, 2, 1,” there was a blinding flash of light and he was back in Haling’s street, then another flash of light and he was in his uncle’s house. That was when he realised his cloak was glowing gold……
#Tiger
Strangely, John could hear a quiet ruffling sound under his golden cloak. Suddenly, he pulled off the cloak and turned around. Astrid stepped out, red-faced mumbling, as if trying to think of a good excuse, “I got caught by those people, the one who killed your…” John seemed ready to mourn for his grief of his dear uncle, so he held his hands as a signal to stop. “Where’s your bag?” asked Astrid, examining his surroundings.
“What bag?” questioned a startled John, fixing his eyes on her questioning.
“The one we packed earlier, with first-class resources” responded Astrid, as if it was pointless to ask, “Never mind!”
In one moment, the sequence of what happened before clicked in his mind and questioned flowed down, pouring rapidly, one word over another.
“Wait! Did you give me this cloak? Why? Why is the case so important? Why are you relying on me? Where were you?” cried John, feeling as if a hundred questions flooded.
“Yes, I did give you the cloak, the Fates wanted that. And yes, I am relying on you to keep the case safe.” Answered Astrid patiently “As I told you, I was captured by the teenagers…”
“ Oh, Astrid！Where is the case? I can’t keep it safe if I don’t have it!” interrupted John, searching frantically.
“Oh, the case, it’s on your back, the cloak,” replied Astrid calmly, smiling for a second what seemed like a wicked grin, but suddenly turning pale as if something struck her.
“Then who are the Fates?” asked John, struggling to be equally calm, not noticing the paleness or the smirk.
“The Fates?” They are a type to oracles, and I saw them the days I saw you.”
John fixed his clues together until he realised something- Astrid was dead, this was not Astrid, she did not really give him the cloak- she was an evil spirit, that was why he kept seeing strange things. And they must speak the truth when a question is asked. Spirits, according to legend, could travel through human bodies and shape-change and see humans as oracles, strangely, they could also change an object into another object. Then, the only way to destroy this vile spirit is to stab the invisibility cloak- the thing John dearly possessed. So, this ‘Astrid’ lured him to her den, deceiving him- she must also be the murderer of famous Antonius Greechev and made him think that she was his granddaughter, come back to life. This must be the key to all the other disappearances from The Daily Telegraph. He backed away, shivered and cried loudly.
“So, it’s you!’’ He pointed directly at her finally “I knew it!’
”Antonius Greechev’’ whispered John “You killed him too?”
Astrid’s pale, satisfied face twisted into a cruel, smug smile.
“Yes,” she mouthed. ‘‘And now it’s your turn.’’
#Huayi
Terrified, John backed away further and further. Astrid has been keeping this secret all along! He could not believe it. First, his uncle died, now this! What is he going to do? Run? His lament and melancholy face twisted into a grimace, evil face. His emotions are all crumbled together, and he shall give up. He remembered the message uncle rob had given him and John is not letting him down. He burst out of the door and trudged through the oozing mud, swished through the verdant grass, and finally arrived at the place he was longing and needed to go. There was a large, dark blue tower which occupied a wise wizard who knew everything which existed on earth. Before he visited the wizard, he turned his head behind him while he sighs in relief to see Astrid not following him, so John majestically ambled towards the tower with confidence and intrepidness. He entered the mysterious tower to discover all the coverts being uncovered. John looked around the tower full of glistening jewels and crystals surrounding all the space in the hall. Full of exuberance and jubilance, he promptly ran to the place were the wizard works and dwells while his heart beats as fast as a cheetah running. He opened the polished, wooden door and saw the wonderful wizard resting on the throne of the tower.
“I will help you on your quest. We should find the case and destroy that evil spirit. You will need help to achieve that.” The wizard’s voice was deep and gravelly, and he looked seriously at John over his spectacles. “Fortunately, I know where the case is though it will be difficult to obtain. Those two thieves got it from Astrid’s grave. If we are to retrieve it, we must depart now.”
John stared in awe as the wizard spoke. He was there to ask the wizard to guide him, and the wizard volunteered to come with him on his mission. “follow me,” he seized John’s arm and spun on the spot. Wind swirled around them and compressed them for a couple seconds and then, it suddenly stopped. John fell with a thump on the wet pavement outside his uncle’s house. Astrid was still there, smiling smugly. Whoosh! The wizard (who was called Avery) had hit the spirit in the chest and snatched the cloak off her. She stumbled backwards, cursing. Avery took out his wand and blasted the cloak apart. Astrid screamed as she crumbled into dust.
Avery and John ventured stealthily into the house and up the stairs, looking out for traps. The room in directly front of him was half-open and inside, lay an ornate, carved wooden case covered with shimmering stones on a double bed. It was too easy. Something had to be guarding it or there were traps. John cautiously crept in but before he had gone two paces, there was a whizz and a thump as a knife narrowly missed John’s ear. There was a pause, while John stepped back nervously and then, a shower of knives rained down on the spot that John had been standing, setting off more traps. Knives pushed down a loose floorboard apparently leading to a snake pit from the angry hisses coming from below.
#Tiger
As a downpour of arrows poured down, John shuddered and tried to stop sweat from flooding his face.
“Well, these two artful dodgers certainly are clever!” remarked Avery, as a shower of rocks whizzed through the air. “Alas’ he continued, shaking his head “My powers are too feeble in this place.’’
Anxious to know what would happen if they landed on the other side. John picked up a stone and threw it towards the case. In a trice, two hissing cobras glided slowly to the rock and gulped it whole, without any signs of stress.
“Now” Avery suddenly declared, after thinking for some time. “If only we could get the all-protection cape, then we’re fine. It lies on top of the wailing mountain, protected by two bulky, fearsome trolls.’’
“Yes!” cried John excitedly. “Could we go there now?”
Nodding, Avery seized John’s hand and they appeared most mysteriously at the bottom of a mountain. Indeed, Whistling Mountain was a very suitable name-birds perched on the highest branches and chirped noisily on the trees, the long, dreary trees stooped eerily at them, ruffled continuously by the wind, and the wind was menacing wolfs howling on the darkest nights.
Avery and John climbed and came to aid when another was hurt. After long and hard work, they finally arrived at the top, and they finally saw a delicate white cloak when “ROAR” echoed in the depths of the forest when they realized that the voice was behind them…
Huayi
Both Avery and John freeze in the middle of their tracks. With fear within him, John slowly and fearfully turned around and so did Avery to see their worst nightmare he dreaded to see: a three-headed lion. The wizard did tell us this was not going to be easy, but this was too extreme. John stood there in horror, glancing at Avery and back at the monster, hoping this was a dream so both travelers pinched themselves hard to find out all of this is real. The lion growled fiercely, commencing to attack as John whispered to Avery, ‘Run!’ Both ran as fast as a leopard, back to the castle they had started at. Until the wizard appeared from thin air and lightly landed on the ground, tranquil and placid as if nothing had happened. ‘Sir, please-’ before she finished, the wizard laughed and whistled his magic whistle to the three- headed lion and clarified, ‘this is only a test to see how you two would react because on the way back, there will be more ahead of you, so you need to be prepared for it. The lion majestically walked crawled back to its master while John shivered as it went past him. ‘This is my guard; I ordered him to frighten you, but he is no harm to people he recognizes so he will now be your guard so that you can safely go through the forests and caves.’
‘Wow, I didn’t know you had a ‘pet,’ John replied confidently now that he knew this animal is going to be their guard.
At that moment, the wizard vanished into thin air as the purple potion that the wizard had shown him floated solitarily into John’s hand.
‘Well, shouldn’t we get started?’ Avery exuberantly said to John with joy.
‘ I mean, sure!’
#Chloe
Within a second, they were back in Rob’s house and now that the arrows had stopped raining down, the room was in chaos. The bed sheets were ripped and pictures had fallen down and smashed. In the middle of it all, stood a bony, wrinkled man grinning maliciously. “Good-bye, heroes.” He spun on the spot and vanished in a puff of purple smoke. “This is not good.” Murmured Avery. He grabbed John’s hand and spun on the spot. They seemed to shoot upwards through the ceiling and into the sky though they were actually only speeding after the man in front. It might have just be minutes, or even just seconds but to John it have been centuries that they shot through the chilly night air. When it looked like it would never end and that they would spend forever chasing this person, they landed on the wet pavement again “I’m sorry John. I’ve lost him.” Avery wailed. Then he cursed. “I should have known that he would have come. We will have to chase him down and bet him at his own game. Fortunately, I know this man so we aren’t dealing with the unknown. In the meantime, we should find out a bit more about that evil spirit who was impersonating Astrid. We could start by getting a lead on that.” Before they could make their plan however, there was a blinding flash of rainbow light and Astrid appeared before them. “You do not need to find me for I am already here. I will surrender if you go to the lost mountain to regain the secret treasure. It is not that easy.” She smirked. “do you agree?”
“we do.” Avery had stepped up boldly. The last thing John felt like doing. Great. One more thing to find.
@Everyone (From me, TIGER) isn’t Avery the wizard? or r there 2? U said that there’s another wizard with 3 head lion, right?
#Tiger
Avery gave a sharp tug on the John’s collar, waved his wand and teleported to the wide, wide ocean.
“Avery, why are we going to the sea?” John asked enquiringly.
“To visit the Old Man of the sea, he’s the only one who knows where the Hidden Mountain is.” responded Avery, concentrating his eyes on two particular stones.
“John stared wonderingly at him, but did not dare interrupt Avery.
Suddenly, the two stones leapt out and a grumpy dwarf looking man appeared, looking undoubtedly disturbed.
“Hey!” he demanded “What is you doing here? Ain’t you see me sleeping?”
“Sorry, Old Man” replied Avery, knowing that he couldn’t force him to tell him where the Hidden Mountain was. Then he lashed out his golden girdle and hypnotised the Old Man of the Sea.
“Where is the map?” Avery uttered softly.
“Here,” spoke Old Man “He – Here.” and stretched out a rather filthy piece of paper.
Knowing that he got the map at last, Avery beckoned John to him, and placed the paper on the young man’s palm. Then, Avery pulled the magic girdle and appeared in a narrow passage, with the old man immediately shouting after them, knowing that he was easily deceived, then eventually the old man had to give-up, because he belonged to the sea, not the piercing sunlight.
#Huayi
Grasping tightly at the rolled piece of yellow, filthy paper, Avery and John stared baffled at the map as they turned it upside down, sideways and diagonally, wondering which way was correct. Until then, John’s eyes lit up. He remembered his Uncle telling him that the areas that are not being shone by the sun is South when he was only four, but he tried to hold back his tears at the memory when Uncle Rob was killed. And then, he discovered a miniscule compass in the corner of the sheet, and he knew immediately which way it was after all this information he was given. Maybe knowing these is quite useful after all! He declared this all to Avery and they held it were the ‘South’ sign pointed to and it directed to a valley of verdant hills and concealed behind it, at least they saw, was a mystifying cave, with purple steam glowing around it which they did not know was full of magic human beings have never discovered. The two intrepid infants are going to go through the most perilous and strenuous obstacle any human have ever gone through ahead of them…
Avery and John commenced at the green cross and they will terminate at the red cross, so they started to amble jubilantly, knowing that this expedition was going to be fun. The beast crawled beside them, growling softly, hoping John would acquire him some food. Seeing the lion so hungry, John suddenly spotted a stray cat and grabbed the cat’s neck that was purring loudly, trying to find fish in a nearby beck itself but did not know it was going to be eaten, while it twisted and turned, trying to struggle free. The three-headed lion gulped down the poor cat greedily and snuggled beside John like a puppy, beckoned them to continue their excursion. Avery grinned at John while they walked rejoicefully across the pastel yellow bricks, leading them to the cave.
#Chloe
The way up the mountain was steep and took a long time to climb as they had to follow the road which twisted and spiralled upwards. John was soon out of breath and panting. “Why do we have to follow the road?” John complained wearily. “We would have probably gotten there already if we had just gone straight up the mountain.”
“You can’t go straight up to the cave because it isn’t at the top of the mountain and it isn’t anywhere findable either. The only way to reach the cave is to follow the yellow road. Besides, there are magical enchantments preventing people from finding it without doing the work to deserve it. You could wander about the mountain for years, right in front of the cave and not see it. If we went off this path, we wouldn’t be able to find it again forever and we…”
“OKAY! I get the point! I was only asking.” And so they continued their tedious journey on the path to find the cave, hours stretching into days until they had been hiking up the mountain for a week. “Nearly there I think,” panted Avery on their eighth day. “Ah ha! Here we are! John, this is the lost treasure.” John gazed ahead of him interestedly but saw only an empty clearing where the road abruptly stopped as though a chunk of it had been stamped out by a giant foot. John saw quite clearly that the road carried on after the empty clearing just as normal. But was it empty? The air seemed to be shimmering, moulding into something. Seconds later, a large, cavernous cave had materialised before them, vines growing freely over the entrance, water dripping gently from the roof of the cave. It might have been there for years.
#Tiger
John and Avery, now fully excited, clambered at the dusty steps. However, Avery beckoned the three headed lion(named Typhoon, when they found out) and hooked a piece of string on a sturdy tree.
“It’s in case we get lost.” explained Avery, seeing the inquiring look on John’s face, but said no more.
They cautiously entered the coal-black entrance, the place was evidently unused for a long time, for silk cobwebs hung on every comer, A peculiar odour lingered in the air, as they passed a set of snake heads. To John, the cave was dark and misty and it seemed as ft a pair of ghosts would chase him at any moment. Suddenly, a streak of pure-white light appeared and vanished.
“Did you see that?” trembled John springing to Avery, the three headed lion gave a low growl.
“No fear!” comforted Avery, feeling more cheerful than he felt.
A gold gleam sparked in the darkness- could it be the treasure? Reluctantly, John followed Avery, and without warning, a terrifying phantom was visible.
“Who are you?” demanded the phantom,” We do not treat strangers.”
“My lord, my great Lord Phantonia” bowed Avery humbly “We present you a gift for your most mighty power you own.”
John stared at him in terror. Give gifts? Why?
“I produce you our finest – the golden bridle!” Avery continued, looking rather cunning for some way or another.
Lord Phantonia gave a peal of laughter and cackled “You will never deceive me, you fool!” And showed his white, transparent teeth to him.
Huayi#
As Lord Phantonia bared his sharp, white teeth, Avery’s confidence crushed into a million pieces and shuddered with fear. John, who hid behind a concealed concrete wall, was so infuriated within him that he could not hold it in anymore and burst out of his hiding spot, scowled at the Phantonia, and demanded, ‘How dare you!’ Lord Phantonia did not expect such insolence from a young, feeble boy but kept calm and malignance at a corresponding time. After the ‘telling off,’ Avery shoved John, who had smoke fuming out of his nostrils, and whispered loudly in John’s ear, ‘What do you think you are doing! He is Lord Phantonia, and if he gets cross, he will throw you into his dungeon! Have you ever heard that if you get dumped in there, you will never come out! Who knows what will be in there? I don’t think you want that!’ John was not paying a bit of attention at the ‘flattery’ because he is frowning at Lord Phantonia’s grotesque face. Avery was sure that somehow the two antagonists are going to get into a violent dispute but anxious that John was going to get injured because of how powerful Lord Phantonia is. She had to think fast.
She pulled out the golden bridle she promised to acquire and pushed John out of the way as if she was the mother of a tiny chick. Lord Phantonia waddled from side to side like a penguin and his evil blood-red eyes that reminded John of his long-lost uncle that was impossible not to see, rotated around and around as if he was hypnotized by the brightness of the golden bridle. Before long, Lord Phantonia vanished into thin air. However, Avery held the watch as still as a statue until she was sure the coast was clear and safe to go through. The pair wondered in the mystifying cave while observantly looking from side to side just to make sure there aren’t any other ghosts around. Minutes turned into hours and hours turned into days. It felt like they have been travelling for days but it was around twenty minutes or so after Avery glanced at her watch. She noticed an object from the corner of her eye when she glanced back up from her watch, she saw a steel torch. Even though they didn’t really need it at the moment, Avery thought it would be a good idea to take it in case it was necessary but before she got the chance to grab the torch, John seized her by the arm and whispered, ‘This might be a trick, Lord Phantonia might be deceiving us this time by putting an ordinary-looking torch here to get our attention while they have other schemes ahead. Please listen to me, you are my only hope.’
‘fine. I will listen to you. But don’t blame me when it is an emergency and we need it straight away, okay?’ She retrieved her delicate arm carefully and put it back into her pocket. John hesitated at this thought but assented because he knew there must be a conspire somewhere around.
#Chloe
It was lucky that they had left the torch alone because moments later, it exploded, sending everything in a metre radius sky high. Grumbling, Avery followed, complaining about the lack of light. “If I was leader of a mission, I would always make sure that people took torches and all necessary equipment. It would be much more organised.”
“Well, did it occur to you that you aren’t the leader of this mission as it’s a joint effort and you were the one who thought it was too much bother to bring along torches in the first place!” sighed John. Avery turned as red as a tomato and retorted, “It wasn’t me, it was you. You said that we wouldn’t need to pack unnecessary things like torches.”
“Oh, just shut up will you!” said John “I don’t care! Lets watch out for traps Lord Phantonia has set and be careful not to let him fool you. Don’t trust suspicious objects just lying about.” As soon as John had said this, a large treasure chest loomed up in front of them. “This must be the treasure! Should we open it now?” Avery exclaimed. Before John could answer, a shimmering message appeared in spiky purple letters, “you have passed the test and will now get your reward. In here is the treasure but if either one of you opens this chest before you are off this mountain, the treasure will be lost to you and you will never leave this mountain.” The letters faded into glittering dust which floated gently to the ground. John stared hard at the chest, thinking. It obviously couldn’t be so easy and everything about the situation was extremely fishy. Lord Phantonia wouldn’t give up so easily. Lord Phantonia wouldn’t give up unless he had used all his weapons. So that must be it…
#Tiger
Suddenly, the array of mauve spikes lunged out and made a grab at John. Avery gave a piercing scream and leapt out to John, defending him, then vanished.
“Avery!” John screeched, but it was too late.
The sight was terrifying, and it took John a whole minute to understand what happened and recover to his normal state.. He, John had accused wrongly of Avery and the young man had just saved his life… John gave a deep sigh and limped uncertainly to a nearby rock.
John, now shaken and afraid, gave a last glance at the trasure. It was fading-but it was glittering as well. Strange.
“What had happened to Avery?” John wondered, “Maybe the dark dungeons? Or maybe the treasure was a portkey?”
The last idea seemed to prick into his mind. Deep dungeons. Portkey. That fitted! Avery was underground, perhaps guarded by three-headed Cerubuses, just because he accidentally stumbled upon a potykey… He shuddered to think of it. John bit his lip and sat determinedly. how glad would Avery be if he found him…
Without warning, a distance roar of a familiar voice shrieked. “Only one, of them, get the other! No one should know my dark secret!”
Huayi#
John’s blood chilled. His brain whirled around and around like a whirlpool, thinking if he should turn around or not. With fear and determination, he jerked his head around to see…nothing. He remembered what the voice said but he just couldn’t decipher what it meant by ‘dark secret.’ Suddenly, he had an idea. He fumbled around in his back-pack and tossed on the floor all the excessive equipment and pulled out the jacket that her long-lost sister once gave him the day before she passed away and attired it on his own body. This jacket wasn’t any old jacket, it was everything-proof. If he had this, he can do anything. John flung his bag back on his back and spotted a rusty, ajar door…
This mystifying door was almost impossible to see if you don’t observe it attentively so John slowly and uneasily creaked the door open. There was a helix of stairs leading to the bottom of the bottom and he softly stepped down to each stair, vigilant of the atmosphere around him. It took him less than five minutes to get to the bottom of the staircase when something caught his eye: Avery’s bow. He gently picked it up sighing and noticed a miniscule letter to him:
To John,
I know that you’ve found the door, right? I knew it. When the thing who took me vanished into thin air, it slithered between the space in the door and I quickly smacked the door ajar before the thing got too far away so that it would give you a clue. If you are wondering where an earth I got a pen and paper or got time to write this, here is the answer: I actually found a flint that was stuck inside a hole in the wall and pulled out the label on the person’s hoodie. I apologise for the size of the writing but I was compelled to write this small so that I can fit this all in. Well, let’s get back to the subject. You can keep on walking while you read this so we can hurry things up, ok? So, you see the path to the left of you? Just walk straight until you see a sign saying ‘ warning.’ Then, there is a pad where you type your code, do you see it? Yep, that one. Type in ‘38957.’ STAY STATIONARY! Don’t walk in until you remember to hide your face. Don’t question why. I hope you figure out the rest. Wish you luck.
From you best friend, Avery.
#Chloe
“Well, that’s confusing,” thought John. “He might’ve at least explained things instead of writing where he got a pencil and paper from. I have no idea how I’m meant to do this or who or what I’m facing. At least he gave me instructions on it I guess.”
John ventured through the metal-panelled walls, folding Avery’s letter as he went and tucking it in his pocket. Like Avery had instructed him in his letter, he went straight ahead until the sign reading WARNING came into view and typed the code onto the number pad. He adjusted his hood nervously until he was sure it covered most of his face, thankfully remembering that he had brought his black coat instead of neon yellow for camouflage. The metal doors creaked open slowly and John stepped through to the corridor behind it. Thumps and yelling sounded from ahead and John raced up the corridor to see what the commotion was about. As he came nearer to the end of the hallway, the noises became louder and the doors shook with the force and rattled like tin sheets. John wrenched open the door and saw Avery fighting a person wearing a white laboratory coat, holding a syringe filled with green goo. “John!” he yelled. “Quickly, grab the tray there. QUICKLY! He’s trying to get me!” Avery chucked a chair and a table at the person but he just swatted it away with a finger and they crashed into a wall. John grabbed at the tray, examining the tools and syringes. The tools just looked plain nasty like they were created to cause pain. The syringes were sharp as needles and filled with unnatural colours of goo like metallic purple and bronzy green. John selected a syringe with a jet black liquid inside a label read in capitals INSTANT DEATH. He snuck up behind that… creature and jabbed his neck, pushing down the pump, sighing with relief…
#Tiger
The hooded figure collapsed onto the floor- its black noir body turned and twisted, and transfigured into a burden of ashes.
”Avery” questioned John, shaking his friend’s shoulder, which was torn and white. Avery’s face drained into a pale, lifeless face.‘Av?’
Then, click!. Colours spread across him and Avery broke into a large, hearty laugh.
”Hahahahaha!’’ Shouted Avery, waving his hands madly and dancing wildly on the spot. “Yes, trump, you’re right!”
”It is very hard for them to attack me on looks, because i am so good looking!’’quoted Avery, insanely. “Hohohoho”
“Colour drained from Av’s face once more, and suddenly refilled it. BUt instead of a mad lunatic dancing about, drinking ale and beer, cheeks rosy as an apple- his face was feeble and weak, and his eyes bored into John’s.
”John” croaked him hoarsely. “Pen sheen potion— four shelve to right tap once on floor…”
Sencing a question of life and death, John frantically sped to the fourth shelve, tapped smartly once, his hands surrounding the ‘potion’ and placed it in the palm of his beloved friend’s palm. Slowly, Avery poured it inside his mouth, ignoring the foul smell that was lingering in the air.
Avery’s sleek hair shone once more, and his eyes gleamed, full of life.
”thank you John’’ he whispered quietly.
#Huayi
(Just a question to ask: is Avery a boy or girl? Seems both of you were using ‘he’ as a pronoun to replace Avery.)
This forced John’s jaws to a smile. He jerked out a pair of scissors from a draw beside him and snipped the rope that the enigmatic man had tied onto the door before John approached. They were safe. This is the exact sanctuary he was looking for to settle in the night. But before he commenced to unpack, Avery prevented him.
“Don’t tell me you are going to sleep here,’’ Avery demanded.
“Well, if not, then we’re going to be in even more peril if we sleep on the floor in the middle of the cave than in a warm room,’’ John protested.
“Come on, you aren’t an idiot. Why else will some kind of weirdo seize me and have all this dangerous potion with creepy sounds everywhere we go then?” Avery shoved John and stepped outside but terminated in her steps “ If you want to live here for the rest of your life then stay here and I will continue the journey, and I will be the one who will achieve the reward.” Avery turned her back on him and slammed the door behind her but she maintained stationary after that. She stared at the plain wall in front of her and sighed with remorse, knowing that she was his assistant, not the actual traveller, he was. John, back inside the room, collapsed on the chair, not caring whether the seat was foul or not. He thought for a moment before standing back up and flung his back- pack once more. He breathed then slowly eased the door open and glanced at the atmosphere around him. It looked unpleasant. It disgusted him. “ Avery was right, I shouldn’t have thought I would have settled in this place,” John thought quietly. He gently patted Avery on the back and wanted to say sorry but blurred out, “Come one, let’s go, you’re right.” He just wasn’t in the mood to say it. Avery’s apprehensive face glared at him. She expected him to apologise, not ushering her to get out of this dump. John rolled his eyes, “Fine, I’m sorry. Now, can we please get out of this dump? I really don’t want to get into even more trouble.”
Avery accepted John’s apology and she grinned with pleasure but they did not know what was in store for them ahead…
#Chloe
(Huayi, Avery is a boy)
What Avery and John met was infinitely worse than what they had just left and even Avery thought, though he never said it aloud, that he would have preferred to sleep in that strange room rather than face what they did but it happened and, as John often said, “there isn’t any point in imagining things that might’ve been because it won’t happen.”
Out in the corridor, Avery and John were faced with an army of black, hooded strangers, each at least three and a half metres tall. Now, John was usually quite proud of his height as he was as he was taller than anyone else in his class and could normally pass for an adult or at least twenty years old, but these people could make even an elephant seem small in comparison. Avery groaned and passed John a gun. John wondered where he had got them from as Avery didn’t have a backpack and the guns seemed to appear out of thin air. But now wasn’t the time to ask. John grabbed a gun and started shooting. When shot, the things would melt away, leaving only their hoods and a pile of ash.
John thought they were making good progress when Avery panted, “It isn’t enough.” And John saw with disappointment that he was right. They kept shooting the figures but more and more came pouring into the corridor, like water rushing out of a pipe, but there seemed to be endless amounts of those hooded strangers. And then, there was suddenly none at all. John could have leaped for joy. Avery, on the other hand, was looking confused, “this won’t last,” he murmured quietly, then John suddenly heard a sharp cry beside him that he recognised as Avery’s. A second later, he felt hands, thin, gloved hands clawing at him, pulling him away…
Tiger
John gaved a high pitched scream as a slim pair of icy hands rested on hi shoulders. Panicking, he clutched his bag for the instant death powder. He tore away from the slimy, cold hands and faced a crowd of black figures. His heart thumped, and cocked the powder in to his gun, loaded it, and shot as many figures as he could, in the radius of 10 meters.
”AVERY” shouted John, as ye herd of black finally vanished.
”here” mumbled a faint but familiar voice behind him.
John trailed the frail voice and found its weak owner, his friends shoulders slumped on a huge rock.
Embracing his friend, john cried, “what hapened?”
A deafening silence appeared.
”Betrayal..loss of loyalty” answered Avery slowly, breaking the silence.” It was my old school friends who set them on us…”
‘’They wanted power, the lost stradvidus and all’’ continued Avery, sighing.
John could’ve cried in spite of himself, but his main concern was Avery now- they had to escape.
#Huayi
John panicked. Sweat trickled down my forehead with anxiety, and worry. Without thinking, he took out a half-full glass bottle with water that he had poured in from a streaming beck before we entered this mysterious cave. Assiduously, he widened Avery’s mouth and poured the whole bottle inside him. He stared vacantly for the next few seconds before Avery started gasping for breath. Relieved, John started to talk to him, to see if he was conscious. He heaved him up to a standing position but held him until he was strong enough to stabilise himself properly. Clenching his teeth tight with exhaustion and discombobulation, John glanced around to see if there are any danger lying about, vigilant, as he used the last drop of water he had, not wanting to lose Avery again, otherwise there would be no cure for that situation.
Avery finally started to stagger about, but a bit dizzy in a way, as his drooping eyes were looking in all directions frantically. John slowly retrieved his nasty hands out of Avery’s balance and grabbed his bag from the big rock, but not removing his eyes from Avery. After a few minutes, Avery returned to his normal standard, but trembled with fear, having the sensation of fear wherever he went. Both partners began to walk towards the exit, not leaving any clues for the next obstacle coming up, and endeavouring not to break the deafening silence within the cave. As they left the cave, John shuddered with fright and exhaustion, not willing to face any more monotonous catastrophes. They were totally worn out, so they sat on the floor haggardly, but John was furious. He glared at Avery, who was not even trying to look at him, but not in an angry way though. He decided to have a good discussion with him about the ‘old school friend thing’ he was just talking about.
#Chloe
“He is unsuspecting?” a cold high voice whispered. “As always, master.” A voice John recognised as Avery’s replied. Who was Avery talking to? John wondered. He opened his eyes a fraction and saw his best friend talking animatedly to a hooded stranger. One of the hooded strangers that had attacked them just a few hours before! Slowly, John reached for his gun which was safely stowed away in his jacket and swiftly shot both of the plotters before they could react. “I believed you, Avery,” whispered John. “I believed in you.” Avery smiled mockingly and laughed, his bloodshot grey eyes sneering at John’s stupidity. “Well, don’t you get it, idiot!” he hissed. John thought hard about all his time with Avery and all that they had shared. “Now that I think of it, you were obsessed with the violin from the very first time I told you about it. You also convinced me to go out into the corridor and lured me into that room to try and get the monster thing to kill me, and you looked upset when it didn’t kill me! So I have no choice but to believe that you are some treasure-seeking, monster- loving lunatic. Which is violently disappointing.” Avery rolled his eyes at John and slumped forward, unmoving and unmistakably dead.
“So our little hero figures out at last,” a booming voice chuckled. “You are less deluded than I thought though still blind to what you are facing.” The air shimmered and the shape of lord Phantonia appeared, it’s monumentally fat belly shaking as he roared with laughter. “That Avery thought he had it all but lord Phantonia always, always gets the last say in everything. That’ll show him for opposing me. But now it’s time for you to learn your lesson. And it won’t be easy.” With that, lord Phantonia vanished, leaving an evil feeling in the air and a smell of rotten eggs.
Tiger
JOhn craved for justice. Avery- his dearest friend- had betrayed him. He still had his last hope- killing LOrd Phantonia. John weft. Memories of all his closest but traitor comrades came back to him- Astrid Avery and all. Now as John thought of it- there was no friend who was a steady, loyal friend.
Suddenly, the body of Avery cracked into mere dust. John looked up intensely. ONly a thick cloud of dust could be seen. Then, the particles of the darkest dust rose, flattened into the air, and formed a black silhouette of Lord Phantonia.
Boom
‘I, THE BOOMY LORD PHANTONIA, WILL ONLY ONE MOre CHANCE OF FREEDOM- ONLY ONE MORE CHANCE. HAND ME YOUR BELONGINGS AND COME TO THE VALLEY OF MOUNTAINS THEN YOU WILL DIE LIVE!’ Shouted the figure.
It all faded. JOhn clutched to his violin tightly, not letting go, when a Upright, stady figure came in front of him….