climax.

Andy planted his feet firmly on the creaky wooden floorboards of the dilapidated cottage. His breath palpitated, beads of saturated and saline sweat dribbled off his forehead and nose. His arms were feeble and his neck began to throb in a ruthless passion of dysphoria. As he focalized his attention on the darkness of the only room in the uninhabited cottage, he felt a strong, dense rod come upon his head and establish contact with his skull in a unifying moment of metallic and cerebral glory. As Andy shrieked out in excruciating pain, the headmaster revealed his gleaming gold fillings and seized him by the neck with his beefy fingers and spoke in a gruff, wrathful voice: “The nightmare has just begun.” Andy’s foggy vision aborted into a white blankness and he collapsed heavily onto the creaky wooden floorboards of the cottage, his mouth fizzing with bubbling saliva which traveled out of the left side of his lips and seeped into the interstices of the wooden darkness which broke his fall.