Writing Sample Term 2 Week 4

Sometimes at dusk we would see him come out from the hidden interior of his island.
For years we had no idea who he was or what he did until...
The clock struck 12 midnight; the moon above was round and bright. 
Cold and slimy as my feet tapped the lake ground, step by step I felt like I was alone. 
I reached out my arm and the hard and rough bark shattered in my hand. 
The fog dancing over the wet grass was misleading, very misleading... 
I approach what seems to be a wooden door. 
I feel obligated to put my shaking hand on it. 
A bright light shines on my face, I almost go blind... 

The lights dim, the wooden door slams, I slowly turn and my soft hand places itself on the golden door handle. 
Like myself, it was stuck, frozen and jammed. Something or someone is out there, out there in the dark room. Foot steps creep up behind me...

It grabs my ankle with its large scaly hands.
I fell...

I was never seen again.