Before both young men, stood the crimson amber double wooden doors. Each door, centered, an overwhelm large copper canine heads snarling ferociously with closed mouths; each biting their respective individual loose copper ring, which served as the doorknobs. While the eyes remained dark. No pupil could be seen, but it was as if the shadow inside the sockets themselves were suppose to be the vision of these metal primal depictions. Certainly dramatic as if from the centuries past era of severe contemplation over sin, and its damnation.
"Amazing," Trevor replied before these doors, as he was beside you. "Imagine whats behind the doors!", with an honest sense excitement, akin to the similar experience to riding a roller coaster. Most haunted houses relied on tacky and recyclable themes for their patrons; on this occasion, the presentation alone broke any previous expectations.
"Damn, this looks like it belongs to some daemonic worshiping temple," you say.
"Daemonic worshiping temple in the middle of nowhere woods. All its missing its some burning torches in front, and its perfect." Trevor shoots back in sarcasm. "Lets go already then," he steps forward tries to pull the lever with his weight. Fails, then tries pushing forward to open. Nothing happens. "Great, no doorknob that works."
You in the other hand, decide to try another trick just for the hell of it itself. Move forward, and just grab one of the cooper rings to hit the door itself; as if knocking to the entrance of some castle. Off hand, something actually happens! Metal springs and wheels begin to turn behind the walls next to the doors, some dust picks up in a poof, all to open up slightly back two rectangular slots, under the cooper canine heads, by about one foot.
"Wow, it worked," You said in surprise.
"But its stuck," Trevor replied while looking closer at the left opening, "stuck or jammed up on whatever its suppose to do."
When off by a second before Trevor could finishes his sentence. One bottle of wine comes down on each door in a perfectly timed manner; simultaneously. Bottled with an easy hand removable cork, labeled each with the figured of the very same canine copper heads above them. Yet, one small difference. Each label was facing differently from the other. The left wolf face faced to it respective left, while its twin to the right. Holding in its umber green glass bottles, a fascinating deep violet red color.
Trevor walks up to pick up the left side bottle by the neck, in a pleasant surprise than the anticipation of a good scare. "Figures, Pleasure Island Haunted House" Trevor said, "alcohol included, but this medieval stuff is elegant. Not beer but this fancy stuff."
"True," you reply, "Maybe these doors will only open after we drink the entire bottle bottle."
"Works for me," Trevor answered in content. He pulls the easy cork open with one hand, then starts sipping the wine to full chugging the beverage; as he were to a beer. Taking breaths in between. While you had already taken the right side bottle, but had opened the cork with your teeth in eagerness. Both young men, together drank these deep violet red wines as immediate brethren in arms, but considered bro's today, enjoying the slowly rising drunken sensation taken hold of them.