Yet I had to follow; softly, aiming always toward the sound. Ever present, the grinning gargoyles watched, vomiting out frothing streams which seemed to fall, some downward and some upward, but ever in keeping with the mad angle at which the grotesque sat. How could I follow a direction where there was no up or down, no east or west? Madness! Still, I was compelled. Maybe they rang for another? I thought. But I remembered for whom the bell tolls. It tolls for thee. On, then! I will find the bells and answer their summons. But lo! Here I wake.
The Church
Tale Told 