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Have your students participate in the library short story contest!

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Use this presentation to teach your students how to write flash fiction in class!

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Print and Play Solve It Yourself Mystery! 

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Print and Play Solve It Yourself Mystery! 

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Be the first to solve El Centro Library's Monthly Who-Dunnit! Print and Play for your class or pick one up at the library.

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Play a virtual escape room with your class!

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Read (or checkout) a copy of Through The Woods, a spooky graphic novel, with your class.

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read through the woods issue #full online

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Through the Woods #Full - Read Through the Woods Issue #Full Online

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Read Through the Woods Issue #Full Online

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Poe's "The Masque of the Red Death" Interactive Adventure

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Poe's "The Masque of the Red Death" Interactive Adventure

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Share this adaptation of the story with your class

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"Who dares" -- he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him -- "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery?<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "Prince6b" 2s>><<endif>>

It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood Prince Prospero as he uttered these [[words|Prince8]].

"Who dares" -- he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him --<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "Prince6" 3s>><<endif>>

(which, with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the [[waltzers|Prince3]])

he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment with a strong shudder either of [[terror|Prince4]] or [[distaste|Prince4]]; but in the next, his brow reddened with [[rage|Prince4]].

upon which most instantly afterward,<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "PrinceRush4cb" 2s>><<endif>>

When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell on this [[spectral image|Prince2]]

They rang throughout the [[seven rooms|FRooms1]] loudly and clearly, for the prince was a bold and robust man, and the music had become hushed at the [[waving of his hand|FRooms1]].

and even thence to the violet,<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "FRooms11" 3s>><<endif>>

The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange.\n\n<<display RoomList>>

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The panes were [[scarlet|SeventhRoomb]] --

It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the [[rooms|Rooms]] in which it was held.

and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the [[sable carpet|PrinceRush4c]],

It was within this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall, a gigantic [[clock of ebony|Clock2]].

It's pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous [[clang|Clock3]].

And when the minute-hand made the circuit of the face, and the hour was to be [[stricken|Clock3b]]--

and thus the waltzers perforce [[ceased|Clock5]] their evolutions;

and there was a brief [[disconcert|Clock6]] of the whole gay company;

and while the chimes of the clock yet [[rang|Clock7]], it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in [[confused revery|Clock7]] or meditation

But when the echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervousness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the [[next chiming|Clock8]] of the clock should produce in them no [[similar emotion|Clock8]];

and then, after the lapse of [[sixty minutes|Clock8b]]

Edgar Allen Poe's The Masque of the Red Death

It was then, however, that the [[Prince Prospero|PrinceRush1b]],

He had come like a thief in the [[night|RedDeath3]].

And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and [[died|RedDeath4]] each in the despairing posture of his fall.

And now was acknowledged the presence of the [[Red Death|RedDeath2]].

And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all.<<if visited() lt 2>><<playsound "socialsharehit.mp3">><<timedgoto "EndGame" 5s>><<endif>><<fadeoutsound "outro.mp3">><<fadeoutsound "soundscape1.mp3">>

And the life of the ebony clock [[went out|RedDeath5]] with that of the last of the gay.

And the flames of the tripods [[expired|RedDeath6]].

There were much of the [[beautiful|Directing6]], much of the [[wanton|Directing6]], much of the [[bizarre|Directing6]], something of the [[terrible|Directing6]], and not a little of that which might have excited [[disgust|Directing6]].

There were [[delirious fancies|Directing5]] such as the [[madman fashions|Directing5]].

And these the dreams -- writhed in and about, taking hue from the rooms, and causing the [[wild music|Strike1]] of the orchestra to seem as the [[echo|Strike1]] of their steps.

To and fro in the seven chambers stalked, in fact, a [[multitude of dreams|Directing7]].

He had directed, in great part, the [[movable embellishments|Directing2]] of the seven chambers, upon occasion of this great fete; and it was his [[own guiding taste|Directing2]] which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were grotesque.

There were arabesque figures with [[unsuited limbs|Directing4]] and [[appointments|Directing4]].

There were much [[glare and glitter|Directing3]] and piquancy and phantasm -- much of what has been seen in "[[Hernani|Directing3]]."

and then were the same [[disconcert|InSpite1]] and [[tremulousness|InSpite1]] and [[meditation|InSpite1]] as before.<<playsound "clock1.mp3">>

there came yet another [[chiming of the clock|Clock8d]],

(which embrace three thousand and six hundred seconds of [[Time|Clock8c]] that flies),

and to him whose foot falls on the sable carpet, there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more solemnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in the more remote gaieties of the [[other apartments|Revel1]].

And now the music swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue from the [[many-tinted windows|Strike6]] through which stream the [[rays of the tripods|Strike6]].

But the echoes of the chime die away -- they have endured but an instant -- and a light [[half-subdued laughter|Strike5]] floats after them as [[they depart|Strike5]].

But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven there are now none of the maskers who venture, for the night is waning away; and there flows a ruddier light through the [[blood-colored panes|Strike8]]; and the blackness of the [[sable|Strike8]] drapery appalls;

And, anon, there [[strikes|Strike2]] the ebony [[clock|Strike2]] which stands in the hall of the velvet.<<playsound "clock1.mp3">>

But the mummer had gone so far as to assume the type of the [[Red Death|Mask10]].

The dreams are [[stiff-frozen|Strike4]] as they [[stand|Strike4]].

And then, for a moment, all is [[still|Strike3]], and all is [[silent|Strike3]] save the voice of the clock.

It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion that the Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a [[masked ball|20]] of the most unusual [[magnificence|20]].

All these and security were [[within|18b]].

"Who dares" -- he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him -- "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him -- that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise, from the [[battlements|Prince7]]!"

He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the [[retreating figure|PrinceRush3]],

He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in [[rapid impetuosity|PrinceRush2c]],

The panes were scarlet -- a [[deep blood color|SeventhRoom2]].

But in this chamber only, the color of the [[windows|SeventhRoom]] failed to correspond with the [[decorations|SeventhRoom]].

The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in [[black velvet tapestries|Seventhb]] that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same [[material and hue|Seventhb]].

Blood was its Avatar and its seal -- the [[madness|4]] and the [[horror of blood|4]].

When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his [[crenellated abbeys|8]].

Now in no one of any of the seven apartments was there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was [[no light of any kind|SeventhRoom3]] emanating from lamp or candle within the [[suite of chambers|SeventhRoom3]].

But in the corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite each window, [[a heavy tripod|SeventhRoom3b]],

when the latter, having attained the extremity of the [[velvet apartment|PrinceRush3c]],

when the latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and [[confronted his pursuer|PrinceRush4]].

But in the western or back chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the blood-tinted panes was [[ghastly|Clock1]] in the extreme, and produced so wild a look upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of the company bold enough to set foot within [[its precincts|Clock1]] at all.

These windows were of stained glass whose colour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened:\n\n<<display RoomList>>

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That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue -- and vividly blue were its windows.\n\n<<display RoomList>>

upon which most instantly afterward, fell prostrate in death, the [[Prince Prospero|PrinceRush5]].

upon which most instantly afterward, fell prostrate in death,<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "PrinceRush4cc" 2s>><<endif>>

<div style='position: relative; top:-100px'><img src='skull.png' height='250px' />\n\n''Edgar Allen Poe's''\n<span id='red-link'>[[The Masque of the Red Death|1]]</span>\nAn Unabridged <a href='https://bitesizedhorror.com'>Bite-Sized Horror</a> Edition\n\n<div id='red-link'>[[Begin|1]]</div></div>

<<display 'RedDeath6'>>\n\n[[Share on Twitter|https://twitter.com/intent/tweet?text=Experience%20The%20Masque%20of%20the%20Red%20Death%20http%3A//bitesizedhorror.com/masque]]\n<a href="https://www.facebook.com/sharer/sharer.php?u=http%3A//bitesizedhorror.com/masque" target="_blank">Share on Facebook</a>\n[[More Bite-Sized Horror|http://bitesizedhorror.com/]]\n\n<span style="padding-bottom: 15px">Subscribe via email for new games,<br>as well as a secret, subscribers only game.</strong></span>\n<div id="mc_embed_signup"><form action="//gregkarber.us8.list-manage.com/subscribe/post?u=7def7cb630f884c6ecfd8a5e0&amp;id=571013a9eb" method="post" id="mc-embedded-subscribe-form" name="mc-embedded-subscribe-form" class="validate" target="_blank" novalidate><div id="mc_embed_signup_scroll"><div class="mc-field-group"><label for="mce-EMAIL"></label><input type="email" value="" name="EMAIL" placeholder="Give us your email" class="required email" id="mce-EMAIL"></div><div class="mc-field-group input-group" style="display:none"><strong>Basic </strong><ul><li><input type="checkbox" value="1" name="group[17585][1]" id="mce-group[17585]-17585-0"><label for="mce-group[17585]-17585-0">Standard</label></li><li><input type="checkbox" value="2" name="group[17585][2]" id="mce-group[17585]-17585-1"><label for="mce-group[17585]-17585-1">Games</label></li><li><input type="checkbox" value="4" name="group[17585][4]" id="mce-group[17585]-17585-2" checked><label for="mce-group[17585]-17585-2">Horror</label></li></ul></div><div id="mce-responses" class="clear"><div class="response" id="mce-error-response" style="display:none"></div><div class="response" id="mce-success-response" style="display:none"></div></div> <div style="position: absolute; left: -5000px;"><input type="text" name="b_7def7cb630f884c6ecfd8a5e0_571013a9eb" tabindex="-1" value=""></div><div class="clear"><input type="submit" value="Subscribe" name="subscribe" id="mc-embedded-subscribe" class="button"></div></div></form></div>

No pestilence had ever been so [[fatal|3]], or so [[hideous|3]].

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But Prince Prospero was [[happy|7]] and [[dauntless|7]] and [[sagacious|7]].

There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then [[profuse bleeding|5]] at the pores, with [[dissolution|6]].

It was in the blue room where stood the [[prince|FRooms2]], with a group of pale courtiers by his side.

But from a certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole party, there were found [[none|FRooms4]] who put forth a hand to seize him;

At first, as he spoke, there was a slight rushing movement of this group in the direction of the [[intruder|FRooms3]], who, at the moment was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately step, made closer approach to the speaker.

and while the vast assembly, as with one impulse, shrank from the centers of the rooms to the walls, he made his way [[uninterruptedly|FRooms6]],

so that, unimpeded, [[he|FRooms5]] passed within a yard of the prince's person;

to the purple to the green --<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "FRooms8" 3s>><<endif>>

but with the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the [[purple|FRooms7]] --

through this again to the white --<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "FRooms10" 4s>><<endif>>

through the green to the orange --<<if visited() lt 2>><<timedgoto "FRooms9" 3s>><<endif>>

This was an extensive and [[magnificent structure|9]], the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august [[taste|9]].

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It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on account of [[a deadly terror|PrinceRush1e]]

It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had [[seized upon all|PrinceRush2]].

It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened with [[rage|PrinceRush1bb]]

It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the [[six chambers|PrinceRush1d]],

And yet [[all this|Mask9]] might have been endured, if [[not approved|Mask9]], by the mad revellers around.

The [[courtiers|12]], having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and [[welded the bolts|12]].

This wall had [[gates of iron|11]].

The abbey was amply [[provisioned|14]].

They resolved to leave means neither of ingress nor egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from [[within|13]].

The external world could [[take care of itself|16]].

With such [[precautions|15]] the courtiers might bid defiance to [[contagion|15]].

There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballet-dancers, there were [[musicians|18]], there was [[Beauty|18]], there was [[wine|18]].

In the meantime it was [[folly|17]] to grieve or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of [[pleasure|17]].

And the revel went whirlingly on, until at length there commenced the [[sounding of midnight|Revel3]] upon the [[clock|Revel3]].

And then the music ceased, as I have told; and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted; and there was an [[uneasy cessation|Revel4]] of all things as before.<<fadeinsound "clock12.mp3">>

But these other apartments were [[densely crowded|Revel2]], and in them beat feverishly the [[heart of life|Revel2]].

And the rumor of this new presence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or murmur, of [[horror|Mask1]], and of [[disgust|Mask1]].

But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps that more of thought crept, with more of time into the [[meditations of the thoughtful|Revel5]] among those who revelled.

And thus too, it happened, that before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the presence of a [[masked figure|Revel6]] which had arrested the attention of no single individual before.<<fadeinsound "soundscape1.mp3">>

There was a [[sharp cry|PrinceRush4b]] -- <<playsound "finalhit.mp3">><<fadeoutsound "clock12.mp3">>

Then summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and seizing the mummer whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask, which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any [[tangible form|RedDeath1]].<<fadeinsound "outro.mp3">>

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Here the case was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's love of the [[bizarre|Rooms3]].

He bore aloft a [[drawn dagger|PrinceRush2b]],

when the [[latter|PrinceRush3b]],

It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddened with rage and the shame of his own momentary [[cowardice|PrinceRush1c]],

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The sixth with violet.\n\n<<display RoomList>>

and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made to [[arrest him|PrinceRush1a]].

The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple.\n\n<<display RoomList>>

The [[red death|2]] had long devastated the country.<<playsound "firsthit.mp3">>

The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban which shut him out from the aid and from the [[sympathy of his fellow-men|6]] And the whole seizure, progress, and termination of the disease, were incidents of half an hour.

A strong and lofty [[wall|10]] girdled it in.

there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were constrained to [[pause|Clock4]], momentarily, in their performance, to [[hearken|Clock4]] to the sound;<<playsound "clock1.mp3">>

These were [[seven|Rooms2]] - an [[imperial suite|Rooms2]].

The third was green throughout, and so were the casements.\n\n<<display RoomList>>

But in the corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a [[brazier of fire|SeventhRoom3c]],

But in the corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite each window, a heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of fire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly [[lit the room|SeventhRoom3d]].

His vesture was dabbled in [[blood|Prince1]] -- and his broad brow, with all the features of his face, was besprinkled with the [[scarlet horror|Prince1]].

And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and [[fantastic appearances|SeventhRoom4]].

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Without was the "[[Red Death|19]]."

To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the [[windings of the suite|Rooms4b]].

In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the whole extent is [[scarcely impeded|Rooms2b]].

The apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn [[a novel effect|Rooms4]].

The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of the [[stranger|Mask6]] neither wit nor propriety existed.

Even with the utterly lost, to whom [[life|Mask5]] and [[death|Mask5]] are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest can be made.

The [[mask|Mask8]] which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a [[stiffened corpse|Mask8]] that the closest scrutiny must have difficulty in detecting the cheat.

The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the [[grave|Mask7]].

In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be supposed that no [[ordinary appearance|Mask2]] could have excited such [[sensation|Mask2]].

There are chords in the hearts of the [[most reckless|Mask4]] which cannot be touched without [[emotion|Mask4]].

In truth the masquerade license of the night was nearly unlimited; but the figure in question had out-Heroded [[Herod|Mask3]], and gone beyond the bounds of even the prince's [[indefinite decorum|Mask3]].

His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have [[thought him mad|InSpite5]].

His followers felt that he was [[not|InSpite6]].

It was necessary to hear and see and touch [[him|Directing1]] to be sure [[he|Directing1]] was not.

But, in spite of these things, it was a [[gay|InSpite2]] and magnificent [[revel|InSpite2]].

The tastes of the duke were [[peculiar|InSpite3]].

He had a fine eye for [[color and effects|InSpite4]]. He disregarded the "decora" of [[mere fashion|InSpite4]].

The fifth with white.\n\n<<display RoomList>>

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Masque of the Red Death: The Bite-Sized Horror Edition

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"Who dares" -- he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him -- "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? > > > It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood Prince Prospero as he uttered these [[words|Prince8]].

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PDF copy of Masque of the Red Death with Glossary

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Embark on A Poe Learning Adventure With Your Class! Please note: much of this lesson has been archived, however there are some EXCELLENT resources here if you'd like to adapt them

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Edgar Allan Poe Interactive Scavenger Hunt

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View the interactive image by Ana Teasley

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An Educational Article on "Through the Woods" by Emily Carroll 

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An Educational Article on "Through the Woods" by Emily Carroll 

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I am not a trained reader of horror. Usually whenever I encounter horror stories, I'm left feeling dissatisfied with the quality of my unsettlement; I think "oh, that was gratuitous" or "eh, was that necessary?" With very few exceptions, I tend not to seek out horror.

Emily Carroll's Through the Woods is so thoroughly an exception that I have to revise my stance on the whole genre.

In these five graphic tales (meaning comics, not stories told in Grand Guignol fashion - although that linguistic line is definitely blurred here),Carroll's sinuous prose and emphatic art blend seamlessly into a path through the stories she tells. If there is a key to this collection, it is the phrase, "It came from the woods. (Most strange things do)," which recurs in "His Face All Red," the story of a man who murders his brother only to see him emerge from the woods whole, happy and unscathed. These are tales of strange things that come from or go into the woods - and what they did to people, or had done to them, along the way.

These stories are thick with the cadence and syntax of fairy tale, where the telling's stylized repetitions are rendered as much through art as through words. I badly want to hold up three pages in "A Lady's Hands Are Cold" in order to discuss at obnoxious length how the twisting layout on one page draws the gaze into a song, how the song encircles a character, how the art is contrapuntal and telling three stories in harmonic dissonance to the line of the prose. It's a story in conversation with Bluebeard and Mr. Fox while aping neither; it's unsettling, and frightening, and builds expectation in familiar fairy tale lines only to - well. That would be telling.

It's also stunningly beautiful. The whole book is magnificently executed: the work with color, character, contrast, perspective, layout, lettering, is all dextrous and varied and absolutely masterful. It's Gorey with less humor and more eloquence, elegance and poise; in place of whimsy is a wicked sense of pace, threat and a lurking delight in causing terror. I found myself so awed by individual pages that I had to exclaim about them in great detail to hapless people around me, saying things like, "Look, just look at how the ribbon around her throat is a threat because of this blood-striped knife," or "do you see how the word 'nothing' here is part of a sentence but also an illustration of what is spoken between them!"

I should say that I greeted the endings of some stories with dismay. They are, after all, horror. But it was a dismay that felt earned, that seemed to say, "What kind of story did you think this was?" in a gentle, chiding way - while patiently eating your face.

(Not that anyone's face gets - well. Anyway.)

Through the Woods is complex without being opaque; these are all still clear, deceptively simple stories that are kissing-close to beginning with "once upon a time." They're stories about girls who lose a father to the winter, a mother to sickness, a friend to a ghost; they're stories told as straightforwardly as fairy tale while containing all the rich density of poetry.

I am still not a reader of horror. But I am a reader of poetry, of folk and fairy tales, of dark fantasy and a frequent wanderer of woods - and as such, I am most certainly a reader of Carroll.

It's not lost on me that this book is, in so many ways, a cautionary tale against setting foot in strange forests - while being at the same a dense tangle of story-wood in and of itself. Nor, I suspect, is it lost on Carroll, who lures us in only to do terrible, wonderful things to our heads and hearts.

Amal El-Mohtar is the author of The Honey Month and the editor of Goblin Fruit, an online poetry magazine.

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Do You Dare To Venture Through These Tangled 'Woods'?

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I am not a trained reader of horror. Usually whenever I encounter horror stories, I'm left feeling dissatisfied with the quality of my unsettlement; I think "oh, that was gratuitous" or "eh, was that necessary?" With very few exceptions, I tend not to seek out horror.

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Guide your students in an introduction to graphic novels with this guide