Читать книгу The Longest Halloween, Book Three: Gabbie Del Toro and the Mystery of the Warlock's Urn - Frank Wood - Страница 8

The slight warlock had to hurry. For centuries he had been preparing the rooms, corridors and staircases of Ghoul School for the onslaught of new witches, warlocks, trolls and gnomes eager for learning and education. The last night before the start of the school year was always the most rushed for him. Normally he found it peaceful to be alone with his cleaning agents, just he and the staircases, banisters, walls and floors of the school—it was his solace.

But this late afternoon, something uneasy had settled into the walls of one of the corridors. Memory Corridor was what many called it, for all of the memories of times past that it held. Usually it was a quiet, almost hallowed place but today it felt uneasy and tense. The warlock could feel in the walls. They buckled, first gradually, but then they became violent. The seams of the walls seemed almost to the point of tearing as whatever was within screamed to get out, to be free.

The warlock did not scare easily but this was indeed daunting. He struggled to leave the corridor...but all went dark for him as the corridor claimed him as their own. A new memory would be born in his wake and take its place behind the now-calm walls of Memory Corridor.