"Three Skeleton Key"

"Three Skeleton Key"

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Storyboard Description

In the first part of the rising action of the short story “Three Skeleton Key” written by George G. Toudouze, the three men discover a ship that is steering around widely. They assume, at first, the crew members are either drunk or insane. Later, they realize that the crew was eaten by the horde of rats that were on the ship. Wind had caused the ship to crash onto the island and the rats, smelling fresh meat, swarmed over to the lighthouse. As the men run inside and lock all windows and doors, the rats climb up the sides of the lighthouse, like a tree, and attempt to claw their way in, with only a window and metal walls blocking them. They spend a few days in this predicament, unbearable, never ending noise not helping, and get a little more comfortable. During the first night they turn the light on and succeed in blinding a few of the rats. Naming the rats, making faces, and teasing them, then they realize how bad the situation is. The air was rancid, a mixture of the rats and oil, and could not get fresh air without letting the rats in as well and the only barrier they had between the rats and them was starting to break.

Storyboard Text

  • The rats!
  • Now we knew why this ship, in perfect condition, sailing without her crew aboard. They had been driven out by the rats. 
  • The ship was a writhing mess-a starving army coming toward us aboard a vessel gone mad!
  • We'll be safe in here!
  • Brother! Le Gleo, I've searched the seven seas to be reunited with you!
  • We barely had time to leap back, close the door leading onto the gallery, descend the stairs, and shut every window tightly.
  • There we were, sealed alive in our own light, prisoners of a horde of starving rats.
  • Maybe not
  • The horrible band had swarmed up and over the tower as if it had been a tree.
  • We had been in this room for days, getting less tense, even mocking the rats.
  • I'm so close.
  • The morning of the fourth day, at early dawn, I saw the wooden framework of my window, eaten away from the outside, sagging inside.
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