The rusted gates screamed as I forced them open. Gravel crunched underfoot. Lightning flashed, disturbing the night’s gloom, silhouetting the derelict castle of my destiny.
An owl screeched.
The stench from some foetid swamp invaded my nostrils. An acrid taste attacked my throat.
A wolf howled.
Approaching the edifice, cracked windows reflected the full moon like a thousand malevolent eyes.
Then, something happened!
* * *
My editor looked up. “Good beginning and middle, but the ending’s… lacking.”
My entry in the April 2019 75 Word Story Challenge at SFFChronicles
Theme: Structure
Genre: Gothic
M. Robert Gibson 