Gothic

Roger Winslow stopped his car at the massive iron gates and stood fumbling with a ring of keys, searching for the one that would give them entrance. His secretary, Marcie, sat waiting patiently in the car. Beyond the gates, the Wentworth mansion looked exactly like you would expect a mad scientist’s lair to look in a grainy 1950’s horror movie. Maybe that was because it had been built near the end of the nineteenth century when Neo-gothic was the IN* style for the nouveau-riche. Or maybe it was because no one had lived there since Hector Wentworth had passed away and the lower two floors were securely boarded up. Or maybe it was just because tonight was Halloween and everything looked decrepit and spooky in the light of a full Halloween moon shining through a slightly cloudy sky. ...