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 a 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, 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 in 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 around the room for some weapon with which to force the door, and at length with his penknife cutaway 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 heartbeat 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 breathless interest on feeling something solid in what he had imagined being 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 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 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 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.
Charlie:
Upon seeing the label, John found that he was not, in fact, surprised in the least in seeing it, but instead strangely expecting this supposed wonder that had awaited him over the years in this non-existent cupboard. He allowed himself his last smile for ages to come and brightened inside before the flame inside him was once again extinguished as his body trembled, only this time so violent so that he felt the very earth erupt beneath his feet. Feeling old memories return, he realized that he could not remain rooted in this place any longer and speedily, although reluctantly and with great care, returned the violin to its original place in the cupboard. It would have to wait.
Poor John had no idea of what was about to happen to him. As a matter of fact, it didn’t take as much time as it would usually take for the cook to dish out dinner before he was reunited with his beloved violin. Only, the difference was that this time, it wasn’t what anyone, even he himself, would’ve expected.
Benjamin:
Suddenly, a loud noise broke the deafening silence: the same man that John had seen precisely 4 months before appeared in front of him. His face bore countless scars and piercings and he wore a look of seriousness before John; he wasn’t neatly dressed: his black timeworn ragged suit looked ancient yet priceless. There was something odd about that suit that John had seen before but he could not possibly remember when. In a deep and roaring voice, he defiantly said: “Thee shall suffer thy pains of twain spirits, Heaven and thy Devil if thee does not give thy treasure back, thee shall die…” There was a pause in which the mysterious man glared menacingly at John for the last time and vanished without a single trace.
Was this just a hallucination? Was this man even genuine? These were the questions that John kept asking himself, again and again, he did not know. Although there was something familiarity odd about his cloth suit…AHA! John triumphed in euphoria. The strange pattern on that suit was the same as on the violin. What did this symbol even mean? Euphoric, Confused, Curious – John wanted to find out more about the violin and this man.
Charlie:
Of course, it was no use when John tired himself looking for that man – no, spirit! He tried playing that cold, but sweet tune on his trusty Pressenda, the Aligerario, with no avail. It was a mystery to remain unsolved for quite a while to come, or maybe not. By the time John had given up on his campaign, it was already dawn. This mystery would have to wait. And, so, it did wait.
Months had passed, and still, there was no trace of the man to be found. John had forgotten all about his discovery, the Stradivarius, which he had stowed away, where it did belong, in that old, mysterious cupboard. It was quite strange, that that fateful event happened on that day. It was the perfect summer’s morning, on which the Sun beamed at the world happily and on which there were few clouds. The temperature was just right, and the daisies waved around the nearby fields. Having just finished his final thesis, John walked out of the university gates, his face a look of pure happiness. He had decided he would go to the caves that morning, the caves at the border between land and sea, and enjoy the morning in pleasant, natural surroundings. But no. He walked straight in. Into the trap. Into the darkness. Into the very depths of hell itself! He fell, down, down, down…
John found himself staring at the man. In a deep and roaring voice, he defiantly said: “Thee shall suffer thy pains of twain spirits, Heaven and thy Devil if thee does not give thy treasure back, thee shall die…” There was a pause in which the mysterious man glared menacingly at John for the last time and vanished without a single trace. He was back. For the second time.
Benjamin:
As the soft luminescent blankets of twilight towered over the cold, cobbled streets of the city, a silent sleuth stepped slowly sunward for the soundless Stradivarius, his senses promised sweet salvation as he entered the street. Paranoid yet petrified of the power of the powerful Stradivarius, he plodded playfully on, unaware of the true power of the instrument. Menacingly, the silent sleuth lunged onto the timeworn threshold, vividly glancing around for any sign of the lost Stradivarius. His unquenchable unspeakable greed was ultimately undesirable. Aware of his surroundings, he quickly checked, unscathed, every last object in the room yet it was nowhere to be seen. Crossing the catastrophic, capacious, crisp landing the sleuth entered the cerulean bedroom. The threadbare, thornless bed looked like it had not been slept in for months. Where had this impertinent, ill-mannered, idiotic boy got to?
Many miles away John suddenly woke up with a cautious jolt.
Grace:
John is very flustered now, even very scared. This is the second time in his life that he has encountered such a thing.Woke up on the grass that I had never seen before. His breathing even trembled. John sat up slowly, covering his face with his hands, and then tried to relax himself. After a long time, John quickly walked to the road and stopped a car at random. Fortunately, the person in the car also kindly sent him to his neighborhood. When John arrived, he saw a strange car at his door, and he could clearly see who was in his room from the window. He immediately thought of the person in his dream, he held his breath, Hiding behind the house. After a while, he raised his head and looked inside, and he was relieved to find that the person was no longer there. He will go to the door, open the door with the key, and find traces of the room being turned over again. He quickly opened the cabinet. Fortunately, the violin is still there and has not been taken away. He just wanted to lie down on the bed and rest, suddenly the voice appeared again. . .
Charlie:
“Be thee here again? Why dost thou not tremble at my feet?” And with that, as quickly as it had come, the icy voice of steel disintegrated into the summer air. John ran outside and locked the door. A few moments later, he found himself on the high street reading the various signs and plagues stuck up poorly on the walls by many a dishonest dealer in adverts. Strangely, he found them quite familiar, as if he had seen them before, in the exact same locations, with the exact same print, with the exact same blemishes! It was rare for people to pay to put up adverts more than once (dealers would take down any adverts which were not paid for weekly), let alone so many doing just this at once, in the exact same state as they had them before. As John’s mind wandered off, considering the probability of such an outcome, while his body was led once again into the pits of hell. Only, this time, he had a companion.
John felt him wrap around his body. In a deep and roaring voice, he defiantly said: “Thee shall suffer thy pains of twain spirits, Heaven and thy Devil if thee does not give thy treasure back, thee shall die…” With barely any energy to let out more than a gasp, the sleuth fainted.
Benjamin:
John was now very much obliged to escape the horrific scene. Running breathlessly away from the unconscious sleuth, the once cerulean skies were now menacingly indigo as John ran across the moonlit plains. Up in the sky, the blotched scarlet moon with his army – the courageous clouds malevolent as they could be, discharged their share of egocentric electricity which zealously zapped a nearby tree. Poor John could only run further and it was nightfall. He knew that every moment mattered. The Stradivarius poised in his trembling hands, John knew it was a matter of time before he would be found, and gasping for breath, he opened the door of a nearby dilapidated hotel. Although it appeared to be spooky, John had no choice but to enter.
The words kept awkwardly staying in his head. “Thee shall suffer thy pains of twain spirits, Heaven and thy Devil if thee does not give thy treasure back, thee shall die…” it had been months and somehow John could just not figure out what these words even meant and before, “Be thee here again? Why dost thou not tremble at my feet?” Suddenly, a noise, a whisper was uttered behind him “Hello?” John called out however there was no answer. “Hello?” John called only louder this time. Silence. Then a sudden burst emerald green of energy. Whatever this creature was seemed to utter “Du…Hast…eins…Stradivarius.” John knew what this meant as he had learned German for 2 years. That “eins” meant one hence there must be – out there – more Stradivarius. But never mind that right now, John would need to devise a way to get out of here – but the door was locked – so the only way to get out was to go up…
Grace
John is at a loss now. He has never climbed the wall, which makes him fall into depression and panic. He is afraid that something unknown will enter again, but he also doesn’t know how to escape. This was when he happened to see a box tied up with rope next to him. He suddenly thought of a good idea and took off the rope from the box. Immediately afterwards, he began to look for a bulge that could be hung with a rope in the small open air room. He quickly found a suitable place in an unremarkable place. He was not sure whether he would succeed, but John could feel that there was not much time left for him. What surprised him was that the rope hung up quickly and made him escape from it successfully. But when John escaped, he didn’t know what he should do next, he didn’t even know if he was the right choice to leave this place. Because the sight outside shocked him, it was a place he had never seen before. There were no roads, nothing about electronics, and no people. It looks like ancient times. At this time the nasty voice appeared in his mind again, ‘you escaped, what are you going to do now? ’
Charlie:
No more than a few seconds later, John eyes’ swivelled round. A trail of scarlet lay before them, trickling down the jagged rocks, below which lay a large altar. John scanned his surroundings. The hole – the wall – it was gone! The only option was to go down.
All around John were the skulls of those who had tread on the very path that John was descending on. Skulls of those who had lived, as it looked, before the very beginning of time itself. They had time. All the time they wished for. But John, he did not have time. Time was not on his side. And with that, he trod on it. He trod on it, as if it was nothing. But no.
As he made his thousandth step onto that sacrificial stone, he gasped. As his body was slit from head to toe, as it was mutilated by an unknown force, as his bloodied parts were torn out by this invisible force and thrown into the abyss in this world’s very core, he made the realization. It was not meant to happen this way. It never was, nothing ever was. Reminded suddenly of that man in the suit, the voice, that creature – he knew it all. Slowly, as the world split into pieces and as the abyss enlarged with each and every slit in his body, he realized that he knew all along. But this time, like the many other times that had come before, he had failed. His last thought: It won’t.
It was a great summers morning. John was finishing his last term at university. He had recently found the Stradivarius in an old, dusty cupboard, and was more than happy to show it off. Everything was great. The only thing was, he was hearing something. Something from a past he had never experienced. Something… something which he had an unknown fear of. Something… something… something which no man should ever know.
Benjamin:
The Sleuth awoke in the moonlit chambers of the building. “How could the boy outsmart him this time? How could he?” As he moved into the semi-darkness, his master called out to him,
“You do not comprehend the boy, John, well enough, Chalmer, do you?”
” Master…it was because…”
“You know very well that the boy is scared of you.”
“Now I want to announce to you, the Stradivarius is an extremely priceless artifact made in 1704 by Stradivari, a very important violin maker of his day, our quest is to acquire it back for I, myself, descended from Stradivari myself, hence it is my right to have it, Although it is very clear that the boy wants it himself so therefore in that case, we would have to urge him to give it back by force and torture him.” The man called Chalmers walked slowly away, determined to aquire the Stradivarius one day, again.
John was just celebrating his 14th birthday – by today’s standards 14 at university would be way too young, however John, and a couple of his friends were much smarter than the average standard – but at that moment, he sensced danger lurking somewhere but he did not know where or how…
Grace:
His subconsciousness told him something bad was about to happen, but what could he do. Even if he is a genius, he is only fourteen years old. If John tells other people about this, he can say with certainty that no one will choose to believe him. At that time, he assumed that nothing happened, and continued to listen to his parents saying this and that. Time goes back to the present. If he knew then that ignoring the voice in his mind had such a big impact on his current life, he would communicate with the mysterious person what he said before. But now there is not so much time for him to think about these things, he was quickly sucked in by a blood-red whirlpool
Charlie:
John spun. He could feel the thrashing of the belligerent waves created within the boundless whirlpool, parting to reveal a radiant, glowing mist. Spinning and spinning, he watched with his barely functioning eyes as something, something, something stirred within the mist. A hand spun outwards, caught him by the neck, and dragged him with it into the cold mist. But when his eyes could see again, saw he no other than a delicate old man! Behind the man, there was a cage, protected by a dark veil shrouding the contents within. The old man, chuckling at his own bodily cost, brandished the key to the cage, before frailly chucking it into the wild waters below. “At my feet, will you?” There was a pause. And then he changed.
Benjamin:
John was now growing more and more conscious of the Stradivarius and its true power. Cautiously, he picked up the malevolent instrument and its ancient bow and began to play the instrument and a charming, beautiful melody spilled out of the Stradivarius. But there was one thing for certain: John could not stop playing the violin and knew no more…
When he awoke from his dark slumber, John’s surroundings were shrouded in a mysterious dark veil. That was when the man from before once again appeared and spoke to John in a vicious screeching cold voice, “Give back the Stradivarius and all your troubles will vanish. Give back the Stradivarius and I will get you a new one. Give back the Stradivarius and the curse upon it will diminish.” John was half inclined to believe the man when it was no stopping it now, John handed over the Stradivarius and the danger passed…
The man nodded and destroyed the Stradivarius – so feeble and ancient now – in a thick dark matter of energy. He laughed again in that contemptible, diabolical, malevolent laugh, and without warning the man was gone.
Grace
When the man left, John also breathed a sigh of relief, but when he thought that the Stradivarius would never appear again, but when he turn around, he suddenly saw something that he never thought about the violin that had been destroyed by the man was rebuilt by some force.
The red light surrounds the already formed violin, and in the few seconds he was stunned, the violin has been reborn before John. The violin at this time is not the brown it was before, but black. John knew that something he had never thought of would happen again later, but his only idea now was that he was going to find the man who had been talking in his mind, but he waited for nearly a week but still did not wait for the man. appearing again. . .
Charlie:
The voice, Chalmer, the sleuth. The German creature also. They were all mysteries. Mysteries which were circling in no more than circles of circles, cycle after cycle. This paragraph included. So, knowing this, how was John ever to know? How was he ever to know? All these mysteries, they needed to be rounded up, into one. One mystery. After all, weren’t all these beings after the same object, the Stradivarius? They were, weren’t they? Poor John was getting confused. All these mysteries. All these beings. That’s when you stop circling in circles of circles. Stop. So, that’s when they thought, let’s give him a hand, shall we? We’re not writing a classic, thought they. This needs to be unique, thought they. And, so they did. Give him a hand, I mean.
Benjamin:
That was when Chalmer appeared again and looking down at the Stradivarius, his face contorted with rage, he screamed, “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY STRADIVARIUS?!!?” “Actually, you will find that it is mine.” Chalmer’s boss looked down and leered maliciously at John, who was of course confused and terrified at the same time. Chalmer’s appearance and his boss’s were somehow quite similar, John thought that he had seen the style before. A lightbulb flickered on in his head, back when John was in the safety of his house when he looked inside the Stradivarius he thought he saw a symbol; it consisted of an eagle and a simple circle, with stars protruding from the top. Now John knew why it was so familiar.
This was the beginning of the end of the adventure.
This was the final escape.
This was the conclusion of all events.
Chalmer’s boss looked down at John: “Pleased to meet you, my name is Kon.
“My name is John, thanks,” replied John. “But please don’t hurt me!”
“Foolish child, I was just about to make a simple request: Will you, John, give me back my primeval Stradivarius?” asked Kon.
“Ye-yes of course, but don’t you realize that there is an atrocious curse that lies upon that Stradivarius?” replied John.
“Of course I know that, why would I want it back if I knew there was a curse on it? I want it back because I put the curse there and have descended from the maker of this Stradivarius.”
“Okay, I understand” replied John.
“Good,” said Kon.
And then Kon and Chalmer disappeared.
John stood for a long time by himself looking up at the radiant stars and then, at last, John made the long journey home, alone. . .
(- THE END -)