Haunter of the Ring: The Cursed Ring That Turned a Loving Wife Into a Killer

A young husband's life becomes a nightmare when his devoted wife begins trying to kill him in moments she can't remember—and the only clue is a strange ring she can no longer remove.

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IN THIS EPISODE: A classic horror story from 1934 written by American writer Robert E. Howard!

SOURCES and RESOURCES:
“The Haunter of the Ring” by Robert E. Howard: http://bit.ly/2XeR3Ze=====(Over time links may become invalid, disappear, or have different content. I always make sure to give authors credit for the material I use whenever possible. If I somehow overlooked doing so for a story, or if a credit is incorrect, please let me know and I will rectify it in these show notes immediately. Some links included above may benefit me financially through qualifying purchases.)= = = = ="I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness." — John 12:46= = = = =WeirdDarkness® is a registered trademark. Copyright ©2025, Weird Darkness.=====Originally aired: September, 2020
EPISODE PAGE (includes sources): https://weirddarkness.com/HaunterOfTheRing
ABOUT WEIRD DARKNESS: Weird Darkness is a true crime and paranormal podcast narrated by professional award-winning voice actor, Darren Marlar. Seven days per week, Weird Darkness focuses on all thing strange and macabre such as haunted locations, unsolved mysteries, true ghost stories, supernatural manifestations, urban legends, unsolved or cold case murders, conspiracy theories, and more. On Thursdays, this scary stories podcast features horror fiction along with the occasional creepypasta. Weird Darkness has been named one of the “Best 20 Storytellers in Podcasting” by Podcast Business Journal. Listeners have described the show as a cross between “Coast to Coast” with Art Bell, “The Twilight Zone” with Rod Serling, “Unsolved Mysteries” with Robert Stack, and “In Search Of” with Leonard Nimoy.DISCLAIMER: Ads heard during the podcast that are not in my voice are placed by third party agencies outside of my control and should not imply an endorsement by Weird Darkness or myself. *** Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised.

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:07):
Welcome Weirdos. I'm Darren Marler, and this is Weird Darkness.
Here you'll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore,
the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and
unexplained coming up in this episode. The Haunter of the

(00:29):
Ring is our story. It was first published in the
pulp magazine Weird Tales in the June nineteen thirty four issue.
The author, Robert E. Howard, earned only sixty dollars for
this publication, which is about eleven hundred dollars to day.
This story was set in what was at the time
the modern age of nineteen thirty four. The short story

(00:50):
belonged to the universe of the Cthulhu Mythos, so while
it might not have been written by H. P. Lovecraft himself,
it was certainly inspired by him and bizarre at the
same time. It is also a part of the Conan
the Barbarian universe, as it includes a relic from the
High Burian Age of the Conan the Barbarian stories, the
Ring of thoth Ammon. Now bult your doors, lock your windows,

(01:16):
turn off your lights, and come with me into the
Weird Darkness. As I entered John Kerowin's study. I was

(01:40):
too much engrossed in my own thoughts to notice at
first the haggard appearance of his visitor, a big, handsome
young fellow well known to me. Hello Caroin, I greeted, Hello, Gordon,
I haven't seen you for a while. How's Evelyn? And
before he could answer, Still on the crest of the
enthusiasm which had brought me there, I exclaimed, Look here,

(02:03):
you fellows, I've got something that'll make you stare. I
got it from that robber Ahmed Mehta, and I paid
high for it, but it's worth it. Look from under
my coat, I drew the jewel hilted Afghan dagger, which
had fascinated me as a collector of rare weapons. Kiroin,
familiar with my passion, showed only polite interests, but the

(02:24):
effect on Gordon was shocking. With a strangled cry, he
sprang up and backward, knocking the chair clattering to the floor.
Fists clenched and countenance livid, he faced me, crying, keep back,
get away from me or I was frozen in my tracks.
What in the I began bewilderedly. When Gordon with another

(02:45):
amazing change of attitude, dropped into a chair and sank
his head in his hands. I saw his heavy shoulders quiver.
I stared helplessly from him to Kiroin, who seemed equally dumbfounded.
Is he drunk? Asked Caroin shook his head, and, filling
a brandy glass, offered it to the man. Gordon looked

(03:06):
up with haggard eyes, seized the drink and gulped it
down like a man half famished. Then he straightened up
and looked at us shamefacedly. I'm sorry I went off
my handle, O'Donnell. He said, it was the unexpected shock
of you drawing that knife. Well, I retorted with some disgust,
I suppose you thought I was going to stab you

(03:28):
with it? Yes, I did that. At the utterly blank
expression on my face, he added, Oh, I didn't actually
think that, At least I didn't reach that conclusion by
any process of reasoning. It was just a blind, primitive
instinct of a haunted man against whom anyone's hand may
be turned. The strange words and the despairing way he

(03:50):
said them sent a queer shiver of nameless apprehension down
my spine. What are you talking about, I demanded, uneasily,
hunted for what? You never committed a crime in your life,
not in this life, perhaps, He muttered. What do you mean?
What if retribution for a black crime committed in a

(04:13):
previous life were hounding me? He muttered, that's nonsense. I snorted,
Oh is it? He exclaimed, stung you ever hear of
my great grandfather, Sir Richard Gordon of Argyle. Sure, but
what's that got to do with You've seen his portrait?
Doesn't it resemble me? Well? Yes, I admitted, except that

(04:35):
your expression is frank and wholesome, whereas his is crafty
and cruel. He murdered his wife, answered Gordon, suppose the
theory of reincarnation were true, Why shouldn't a man suffer
in one life for a crime committed in another. You
mean you think you are the reincarnation of your great
grandfather all the fantastic? Well, since he killed his wife.

(05:00):
If I suppose, you'll be expecting Evelyn to murder you.
This last was delivered and searing sarcasm, as I thought
of the sweet gentle girl Gordon had married. His answer
stunned me. My wife, he said, slowly, has tried to
kill me three times in the past week. There was
no reply to that. I glanced helplessly at John Carowin.

(05:24):
He sat in his customary position, chin resting on his strong,
slim hands. His white face was immobile, but his dark
eyes gleamed with interest in the silence. I heard a
clock ticking like a death watch. Tell us the full story,
Gordon suggested, Heroin, and his calm, even voice was like

(05:44):
a knife that cut a strangling leaving the unreal tension.
You know, we've been married less than a year. Gordon
began plunging into the tale as though he were bursting
for utterance. His words stumbled and tripped over one another.
All couples have spats, of course, but we've never had
any real quarrels. Evelyn is the best natured girl in

(06:07):
the world. The first thing out of the ordinary occurred
about a week ago. We'd driven up in the mountains,
left the car and were wandering around picking wildflowers. At
last we came to a steep slope some thirty feet
in height, and Evelyn called my attention to the flowers,
which grew thickly at the foot. I was looking over

(06:28):
the edge and wondering if I could climb down without
tearing my clothes to ribbons when I felt a violent
shove from behind that toppled me over. If it had
been a sheer cliff, i'd have broken my neck. As
it was, I went tumbling down, rolling and sliding, and
brought up at the bottom, scratched and bruised with my
garments and rags. I looked up and saw Evelyn staring down,

(06:51):
apparently frightened half out of her wits. Oh Jim, she cried,
are you hurt? How came you to fall? It was
on the tip of my tongue to tell her that
there was such a thing as carrying a joke too far,
But these words checked me. I decided she must have
stumbled against me unintentionally and actually didn't know that it

(07:11):
was she who precipitated me down the slope. So I
laughed it off and went home. She made a great
fuss over me, insisted on swabbing my scratches with iodine,
and lectured me for my carelessness. I hadn't the heart
to tell her it was her fault. But four days later,
the next thing happened. I was walking along our driveway

(07:32):
when I saw her coming up in the automobile. I
stepped out of the grass to let her by, as
there isn't any curb along the driveway. She was smiling
as she approached me and slowed down the car as
if to speak to me. Then just before she reached me,
a most horrible change came over her expression. Without warning,
the car leaped at me like a living thing as

(07:53):
she drove her foot down on the accelerator. All the
afrantic leap backwards saved me from being ground under the wheels.
The car shot across the lawn and crashed into a tree.
I ran to it and found Evelyn dazed and hysterical,
but unhurt. She babbled of losing control of the machine.
I carried her into the house and sent for doctor Donnelly.

(08:16):
He found nothing seriously wrong with her and attributed her
dazed condition to just fright and shuck. Within half an hour,
she regained her normal senses, but she has refused to
touch the wheel since. Strange to say, she seemed less
frightened on her own account than on mine. She seemed
vaguely to know that she'd nearly run me down, and

(08:37):
grew hysterical again when she spoke of it, Yet she
seemed to take it for granted that I knew the
machine had got out of her control. But I distinctly
saw her wrench the wheel around, and I know she
deliberately tried to hit me. Why God alone knows. Still
I refused to let my mind follow the channel it

(09:00):
was getting into. Evelyn had never given any evidence of
any psychological weakness or nerves. She's always been a level
headed girl, wholesome and natural. But I began to think
she was subject to crazy impulses. Most of us have
felt the impulse to leap from tall buildings, and sometimes

(09:20):
a person feels a blind, childish, and utterly reasonless urge
to harm someone. We pick up a pistol and the
thought suddenly enters our mind. How easy it would be
to send our friend to sit, smiling and unaware into
eternity with a touch of the trigger. Of course we
don't do it, but the impulse is there. So I

(09:40):
thought perhaps some lack of mental discipline made Evelyn susceptible
to these unguided impulses and unable to control them. Nonsense,
I broke in. I've noticed since she was a baby.
If she has any such trait, she's developed it since
she married you. It was an unfortunate remark, and caught

(10:00):
it up with a despairing gleam in his eyes. That's
just it, since she married me. It's a curse, black,
ghastly curse, crawling like a serpent out of the past.
I tell you I was Richard Gordon, and she she
was Lady Elizabeth, his murdered wife. His voice sank to

(10:20):
a blood freezing whisper. I shuddered. It's an awful thing
to look upon the ruin of a keen, clean brain
and such I was certain that I surveyed in James Gordon.
Why or how, or by what grisly chance it had
come about, I could not say, But I was certain
the man was mad. You spoke of three attempts. It

(10:43):
was John Carrolin's voice, again, calm and stable amid the
gathering webs of horror and unreality. Look here, Gordon lifted
his arm, drew back the sleeve, and displayed a bandage,
the cryptic significance of which was intolerable. I came into
the bathroom this morning looking for my razor, he said.
I found Evelyn just on the point of using my

(11:06):
best shaving implement for some feminine purpose, to cut out
a pattern or something. Like many women, she can't seem
to realize the difference between a razor and a butcher
knife or a pair of sheers. I was a bit irritated,
and I said, Evelyn, how many times have I told
you not to use my razors for such things? Bring
it here, I'll give you my pocket knife. I'm sorry, Jim,

(11:29):
She said, I didn't know it would hurt the razor.
Here it is. She was advancing, holding the open razor
toward me. I reached for it. Then something warned me.
It was the same look in her eyes, just as
I had seen it the day she nearly ran me over.
That was all that saved my life for I instinctively
threw up my hand just as she slashed it in

(11:52):
my throat with all her power. The blade gashed my
arm as you see before, I caught her wrist for
an instant. She fought me like a wild thing. Her
slender body was taut and steel beneath my hands. Then
she went limp, and the look in her eyes was
replaced by a strange, dazed expression. The razor slipped out

(12:12):
of her fingers. I let go of her, and she
stood swaying as if about to faint. I went to
the lavatory. My wound was bleeding in a beastly fashion,
and the next thing I heard her cry out, and
she was hovering over me. Jim. She cried, how did
you cut yourself so terribly? Gordon shook his head and

(12:33):
sighed heavily. I guess I was a bit out of
my head my self control, snapped. Don't keep up this pretense, Evelyn,
I said, God knows what's got into you, but you
know as well as I that you've tried to kill
me three times in the past week. She recoiled as
if I had struck her, catching at her breast and
staring at me as if at a ghost. She didn't

(12:56):
say a word, and just what I said I don't remember,
But when I finished, I left her standing there, white
and still as a marble statue. I got my arm
bandaged at a drug store and then came over here,
not knowing what else to do. Kerlin O'Donnell, it's damnable either.
My wife is subject to fits of insanity. He choked

(13:20):
on the word. No. I can't believe it. Ordinarily, her
eyes are too clear and level too utterly sane. But
every time she has an opportunity to harm me, she
seems to become a temporary maniac. He beat his fists
together in his impotence and agony. But it's insanity. I
used to work in a psychopathic ward, and I've seen

(13:42):
every form of mental unbalance. My wife is not insane.
Then what I began, But he turned haggard eyes on me.
Only one alternative remains, he answered, It's the old curse,
from the days when I walked the earth with a
heart as black as hell's darkest pits, and did evil

(14:02):
in the sight of man and of God. She knows
in fleeting snatches of memory people have seen before, have
glimpsed forbidden things, in momentary liftings of the veil which
bars life from life. She was Elizabeth Douglas, the ill
fated bride of Richard Gordon, whom he murdered in a
jealous frenzy. And the vengeance is hers. I shall die

(14:27):
by her hands, as it was meant to be, and
she he bowed his heads in his hands just a moment.
It was Caroin again. You've mentioned a strange look in
your wife's eyes. What sort of look was it of
maniacal frenzy. Gordon shook his head. It was an utter blankness.

(14:47):
All the life and intelligence simply vanished, leaving her eyes
dark wells of emptiness. Heroin nodded and asked a seemingly
irrelevant question, have you any enemies? Not that I know of?
You Forget Joseph Rolock, I said, I can't imagine that
elegant sophisticate going to the trouble of doing you actual harm.

(15:09):
But I have an idea that if he could discomfort
you without any physical effort on his part, he'd do
it with a right goodwill. Carolin turned on me and
I that had suddenly become piercing. And who is this?
Joseph Rolick, a young exquisite who came into Evelyn's life
and nearly rushed her off her feet for a while,

(15:29):
but in the end she came back to her first love, Gordon. Here,
Rolick took it pretty hard. For all of his suaveness,
there's a streak of violence and passion in the man
that might have cropped out, but for his infernal indolence
and blase indifference. Oh, there's nothing to be said against Rolick,
interrupted Gordon, impatiently. He must know that Evelyn never really

(15:50):
loved him. He merely fascinated her temporarily with his romantic
Latin air. Not exactly Latin, Jim, I protested. Rolock does
look for him, but it's not Latin. It's almost Oriental. Ill,
what has rolec to do with this matter? Gordon snarled,
with his harascibility of frayed nerves. He's been as friendly
a man as he could be since Evelyn and I

(16:12):
were married, in fact, only a week ago, he said
to her a ring, which he said was a peace
offering and a belated wedding gift. Said that, after all,
her jilting him was a greater misfortune for her than
it was for him. The conceited jackass a ring heroin
has suddenly now come to life. It was as if
something hard and steely had been sounded in him. What

(16:34):
sort of ring? Oh, fantastic thing copper made like a
scalely snake, coiled three times with its tail in its
mouth and yellow jewels her eyes. I gather he picked
it up somewhere, and hungry. He has traveled a great
deal in hungry. Gordon looked surprised at this questioning, but

(16:54):
answered why. Apparently the man's traveled everywhere. I put him
down as the pampered's son of a millionaire. He never
did any work, so far as I know. He's a
great student. I put in, I've been up to his
apartment several times, and I never saw such a collection
of books. Gordon leaped to his feet with an oath.
Are we all crazy? He cried? I came up here

(17:16):
hoping to get some help, and you fellows are talking
of Joseph Rowolock. I'll go to doctor Donnelly. Wait, Caroin
stretched out a detaining hand. If you don't mind, we'll
go over to your house. I'd like to talk to
your wife. Gordon dumbly acquiesced. Harried and haunted by grizzly forebodings,
he knew not which way to turn, and welcomed anything

(17:38):
that promised aid. We drove over in his car, and
scarcely a word was spoken on the way. Gordon was
sunk in moody ruminations, and Heroin had withdrawn himself into
some strange aloof domain of thought beyond my ken. He
sat like a statue, his dark, vital eyes staring into space,

(17:59):
not blankly, but as one who looks with understanding into
some far realm. Though I counted the man as my
best friend, I knew but little of his past. He'd
come into my life as abruptly and unannounced as Joseph
Roeleek had come into the life of Evelyn Ash. I'd
met him at the Wanderer's Club, which is composed of

(18:20):
the drift of the world travelers, eccentrics, and all manner
of men whose paths lie outside the beaten tracks of life.
I had been attracted to him and was intrigued by
his strange powers and deep knowledge. I vaguely knew that
he was the black sheep, younger son of a titled
Irish family, and that he had walked many strange ways.

(18:42):
Gordon's mention of Hungary struck a chord in my memory.
One phase of his life, Kirowin had once let drop fragmentarily.
I only knew that he had once suffered a bitter
grief and a savage wrong, and it had been in Hungary,
But the nature of the episode I did not know.
At Gordon's house, Evelyn met us calmly, showing in her

(19:04):
agitation only by the over restraint of her manner. I
saw the beseeching look she stole at her husband. She
was a slender, soft spoken girl whose dark eyes were
always vibrant and alight with emotion. That child tried to
murder her adored husband. The idea was monstrous. Again, I

(19:26):
was convinced that James Gordon himself was deranged. Following Kirowin's lead,
we made a pretense of small talk, as if we
had casually dropped in. But I felt that Evelyn was
not deceived. Our conversation rang false and hollow, and presently.
Kirowin said, Missus Gordon, that is a remarkable ring you're wearing.

(19:46):
Do you mind if I look at it? I'll have
to give you my hand, She laughed. I've been trying
to get it off today and it won't come off.
She held out her slim, white hand for Kirowin's inspection,
and his face was in mobile as he looked at
the metal snake that coiled about her slim finger. He
did not touch it. I myself was aware of an

(20:08):
unaccountable repulsion. There was something almost obscene about that dull,
copperish reptile wound about the girl's white finger. It's evil looking,
isn't it. She involuntarily shivered. At first I liked it,
but now I can hardly bear to look at it.
If I can get it off, I intend to return
it to Joseph and mister Rolock Kyrolin was about to

(20:31):
make some reply when the doorbell rang. Gordon jumped as
if shot, and Evelyn rose quickly. I'll answer it, Jim,
I know who it is. She returned an instant later,
with two more mutual friends, those inseparable cronies, Doctor Donnelly,
whose burly body, jovial manner, and booming voice were combined
with as keen a brain as any in the profession,

(20:53):
and Bill Baine, elderly, lean, wiry, acidly witty. Both were
old friends of the Ash family. Doctor Donnelly had ushered
Evelyn into the world, and Baine was always Uncle Bill
to her. Highty Jim Hudy. Mister Kerwin roared Donnelly, Hey, o'donald,
you got any firearms with you? Last time? You nearly

(21:15):
blew my head off, showing me an old flint lock
pistol that wasn't supposed to be loaded. Doctor Donnelly. We
all turned. Evelyn was standing beside a wide table, holding
it as if for support. Her face was white. Our
badinage ceased instantly. A sudden tension was in the air,
Doctor Donnelly, she repeated, holding her voice steady by an effort.

(21:39):
I sent for you and uncle Bill for the same
reason for which I know Jim has brought mister Kerwin
and Michael. There is a matter Jim and I could
no longer deal with alone. There's something between us us,
something black and ghastly and terrible. What are you talking about, girl? Ah?
The levity was gone from Donald's great voice. My husband,

(22:03):
she choked, then went blindly on. My husband has accused
me of trying to murder him. The silence that fell
was broken by Baines's sudden and energetic rise. His eyes
blazed and his fists quivered. You young pop, he shouted
at Gordon. Oh, doctor livin daylights, Sit down. Bill Donnelly's

(22:24):
huge hand crushed his smaller companion back into his chair.
No use going off half cocked. Go ahead, Honey, we
need help. We cannot carry this thing alone. A shadow
crossed her comely face. This morning Jim's arm was badly cut,
he said, I did it. I don't know. I was

(22:44):
handing him the razor then I must have fainted. At
least everything faded away. When I came to myself, he
was washing his arm in the lavatory, and he accused
me of trying to kill him. Why the young fool,
barked the belligerent has any sense enough to know that
if you did cut him, it was an accident. Shut up,

(23:05):
Why won't you? Snorted Donnelly. I did you say you fainted?
I didn't like you. I've been having fainting spells, she answered.
The first time was when we were in the mountains
and Jim fell down a cliff. We were standing on
the edge. Then everything went black, and when my sight cleared,
he was rolling down the slope. She shuddered at the recollection.

(23:29):
Then when I lost control of the car and it
crashed into the tree, you remember, Jim called you over.
Doctor Donnelly nodded his head ponderously. I don't remember you
ever having fainting spells before. But Jim says I pushed
him over the cliff. She cried hysterically. He says I
tried to run him down in the car. He says
I purposely slashed him with the razor. Doctor Donnelly turned

(23:53):
perplexed toward the wretched Gordon. How about it, son, God
help me, burst out in agony. It's true. Why you
lying hound? It was Bain who gave tongue, leaping again
to his feet. If you want a divorce, why don't
you get it in a decent way instead of resorting
to these despicable tactics. Damn you, roared Gordon, lunging up

(24:17):
and losing control of himself completely. If you say that,
I'll tear your jugular out, Evelyn screamed. Donnelly grabbed Bain
ponderously and banged him back into his chair with no
overtly gentle touch, and Kiroin laid a hand lightly on
Gordon's shoulder. The man seemed to crumple into himself. He
sank back into his chair and held out his hands

(24:39):
gropingly toward his wife Evelyn. He said, his voice thick
with laboring emotion. You know I love you. I feel
like a dog, But God help me, it's true. If
we go on this way, I'll be a dead man.
And you don't say it, She screamed. I know you
wouldn't lie to me, Jim. If you say I tried
to kill you, I know I did. But I swear, Jim,

(25:01):
I didn't do it consciously. Oh, I must be going mad.
That's why my dreams have been so wild and terrifying lately.
Of what have you dreamed, missus, Gordon asked Carowin gently.
She pressed her hands to her temples and stared dully
at him, as if only half comprehending. A black thing,

(25:23):
She muttered, A horrible, faceless black thing that mows and
mumbles and paws over at me with apish hands. I
dream of it every night, and in the daytime I
try to kill the only man I ever loved. I'm
going mad. Maybe I'm already crazy and don't know it.
Calm yourself, Honni. To doctor Donnelly, with all his science,

(25:47):
it was only another case of feminine hysteria. A matter
of fact voice seemed to soothe her, and she sighed
and drew a weary hand through her damp locks. We'll
talk this all over and everything's on a b okay,
he said, drawing a thick cigar from his vest pocket.
Give me a match, honey. She began mechanically to feel

(26:08):
about the table, and just as mechanically, Gordon said, there
are matches in the drawer. Evelyn. She opened the drawer
and began groping in it, when suddenly, as if struck
by recollection and inuition, Gordon sprang up, white faced and
shouted no, No, don't open that drawer. Don't. Even as
he voiced that urgent cry, she stiffened, as if at

(26:30):
the feel of something in the drawer. Her change of
expression held us all frozen, even Kirolin. The vital intelligence
vanished from her eyes like a blown out flame, and
into them came the look Gordon had described as blank.
The term was descriptive. Her beautiful eyes were dark wells
of emptiness, as if the soul had been withdrawn from

(26:52):
behind them. Her hand came out of the drawer holding
a pistol, and she fired point blank. Gordon reeled with
a groan and went down, blood starting from his head.
For a flashing instant, she looked down stupidly at the
smoking gun in her hand, like one suddenly waking from
a nightmare, and her wild scream of agony smote our ears.

(27:13):
Oh God, I've killed him, Jim, Jim. She reached him
before any of us, throwing herself on her knees and
cradling his bloody head. In her arms while she sobbed
in an unbearable passion of horror and anguish. The emptiness
was gone from her eyes. They were alive and dilated
with grief and terror. I was making toward my prostrate

(27:34):
friend with donnelly and vain, but Kiroin cut my arm.
His face was no longer immobile. His eyes glittered with
a controlled savagery. Leave him to them, he snarled, We
are hunters, not healers. Lead me to the house of
Joseph Rolock. I did not question him. We drove there
in Gordon's car. I had the wheel, and something about

(27:56):
the grim face of my companion caused me to hurl
the machine recklessly through traffic. I had the sensation of
being part of a tragic drama which was hurtling with
headlong speed toward a terrible climax. I wrenched the car
to a grinding halt at the curb before the building
where Roelock lived in a bizarre apartment high above the city.

(28:17):
The very elevator that shot us skyward seemed imbued with
something of Caroin's driving urge for haste. I pointed out
Roloc's door, and he cast it open without knocking and
shouldered his way. In eye was close at his heels. Roelock,
in a dressing gown of Chinese silk worked with dragons,

(28:38):
was lounging on a divan, puffing quickly at a cigarette.
He sat up, overturning a wineglass, which stood with a
half filled bottle at his elbow. Before Kiroin could speak,
I burst out with our news. James Gordon has been shot.
He sprang to his feet shot. When when did she
kill him? She? I glared at boil Alderman, how did

(29:01):
you know? With a steely hand, Kiroin thrust me aside,
and as the men faced each other, I saw recognition
flare up in Rolock's face. They made a strong contrast. Kirowin, tall, pale,
with some white hot passion, Rolock's slim, darkly handsome, with
a saracenic arch of his slim brows about his black eyes.

(29:23):
I realized that whatever else occurred, it lay between those
two men. They were not strangers. I could sense, like
a terrible thing, the hate that lay between them. Jean
kiro And softly whispered Rolock. You remember me, Joseph Roloc
only in iron control kept Kirowin's voice steady, the other

(29:46):
merely stared at him without speaking. Years ago, said Kiroin
more deliberately, when we delved in the dark mysteries together
in Budapest, I saw whither you were drifting. I would
not descend to the foul depths of forbidden occultism and
diabolism to which you sank. And because I would not,

(30:09):
you despised me, and you robbed me of the only
woman I ever loved. You turned her against me by
means of your vile arts, and then you degraded and
debauched her, sank her into your own foul slime. I
had killed you with my hands, then, Joseph Vroloc, vampire

(30:30):
by nature as well as by name that you are.
But your arts protected you from physical vengeance. But you've
trapped yourself. At last, Caroline's voice rose in fierce exultation.
All his cultured restraint had been swept away from him,
leaving a primitive elemental man raging and gloating over a

(30:52):
hated foe. You sought the destruction of James Gordon and
his wife because she unwittingly escaped your snare. You Rolack
shrugged his shoulders and laughed, you are mad. I have
not seen the gardens for weeks. Why blame me for
their family troubles? Caroin snarled, Liar as always, what did

(31:14):
you say just now when O'Donnell told you Gordon had
been shot? When did she kill him? You were expecting
to hear that the girl had killed her husband. Your
psychic powers had told you that a climax was close
at hand. You were nervously awaiting news of the success
of your devilish scheme. But I did not need a

(31:36):
slip of your tongue to recognize your handiwork. I knew
as soon as I saw the ring on Evelyn Gordon's finger,
the ring she could not remove, the ancient and accursed
ring of Thothemon, handed down by foul colts of sorcerers
since the days of forgotten Stygia. I knew that ring

(31:57):
was yours, and I knew by what ghastly light you
came to possess it, and I knew its power. Once
she put it on her finger, in her innocence and ignorance,
she was in your power. By your black magic, you
summoned the black elemental spirit, the haunter of the ring,
out of the guiles of night and the ages. Here

(32:20):
in your accursed chamber, you performed unspeakable rituals to drive
Evelyn Gordon's soul from her body, and to cause that
body to be possessed by that godless sprite from outside
the human universe. She was too clean and wholesome, her
love for her husband too strong for the fiend to

(32:40):
gain complete and permanent possession of her body. Only for
brief instances could it drive her own spirit into the
void and animate her form. But that was enough for
your purpose. But you have brought ruin upon yourself by
your vengeance. Caroline's voice rose to a feeling screech. What

(33:01):
was the price demanded by the fiend? You drew from
the pits ha you bledch? Joseph Rolock is not the
only man to have learned forbidden secrets. After I left
Hungary a broke man, I took up again the study
of the Black Arts to trap you, you, you cringing serpent.
I explored the ruins of Zimbabwe, the lost mountains of

(33:23):
Inner Mongolia, and the forgotten jungle islands of the Southern seas.
I learned what sickened my soul so that I foreswore
occultism forever. But I learned of the black spirit that
deals death by the hand of a beloved one, and
is controlled by a master of magic. But Joseph Roloc,
you are not an adept. You have not the power

(33:46):
to control the fiends you have invoked, and you have
sold your soul the hungarian taurious scholar, as if it
were a strangling noose. His face had changed, as if
a mask had dropped away. He looked much older. You lie,
he panted. I did not promise him my soul. I
do not lie. Heroin's shriek was shocking in its wild exultation.

(34:09):
I know the price a man must pay for calling
forth the nameless shape that roams the gulfs of darkness.
Look there in the quarner behind you, a nameless, sightless
thing is laughing. It's mocking you. It has fulfilled its
bargain and has come for you. Joseph Roloc. No, no,

(34:31):
shrieked Roloc, tearing his limp collar away from his sweating throat.
His composure had crumpled, and his demoralization was sickening to see.
I tell you it was not my soul. I promised
it a soul, but not my soul. He must take
the soul of the girl, or of James Gordon. Fool
roared Caroin. Do you think you could take the souls

(34:52):
of innocence that he would not know? They were beyond
his reach? The girl and the youth he could kill.
Their soul were not his to take or yours to give.
But your black soul is not beyond his reach, and
he will have his wage. Look, he is materializing behind you,
He is growing out of thin air. Was it the

(35:15):
hypnosis inspired by Carowin's burning words that caused me to
shudder and grow cold, to feel an icy chill that
was not of earth pervaded the room. Was it a
trick of light and shadow that seemed to produce the
effect of a black, anthropomorphic shadow on the wall behind
the Hungarian. No, by heaven, it grew, it swelled. Roloc

(35:38):
had not turned. He stared at Carowin with eyes starting
from his head, hair standing stiffly on his scalp, sweat
dripping from his livid face. Carowin's cry started shudders down
my spine. Look behind you, fool, I see him. He
has come. He is here. His grisly mouth gapes in
awful laughter, he is misshapen, pause, reach for you. And

(36:03):
then at last Roloc wheeled with an awful shriek, throwing
his arms above his head in a gesture of wild despair,
and for one brain shattering instant he was blotted out
by a great black shadow. Kirowin grasped my arm, and
we fled from that accursed chamber, blind with horror. The
same paper, which bore a brief item telling of James

(36:26):
Gordon having a slight scalp wound by the accidental discharge
of a pistol in his home, headlined the sudden death
of Joseph Roloc, wealthy and eccentric clubman in his sumptuous apartments,
apparently from heart failure. I read it at breakfast while
I drank cup after cup of black coffee from a

(36:47):
hand that was not too steady, even after the lapse
of a night. Across the table from me, Kiroin likewise
seemed to lack appetite. He brooded as if he roamed
again through bygone years. Gordon's fantastic theory of reincarnation was
wild enough, I said, at last, the actual facts were

(37:08):
still more incredible. It tell me Kirowin, was that last
scene the result of hypnosis? Was it the power of
your words that made me seen to see a black
horror grow out of the air and rip yosef Rolac's
soul from his living body? He shook his head. No
human hypnotism would strike that black hearted devil dead on

(37:29):
the floor. No, there are beings outside the can of
common humanity, foul shapes of trans cosmic evil, such a
one it was with which Roloc dealt. But how could
he claim his soul? I persisted, If indeed such an
awful bargain had been struck, it had not fulfilled its part.
For James Gordon was not dead, but merely not senseless.

(37:53):
Roloch did not know it, answered Kiroin. He thought that
Gordon was dead, and I convinced him that he himself
had been trapped and was doomed. In his demoralization, he
fell easy prey to the thing he called forth. It,
of course, was always watching for a moment of weakness
on his part. The powers of darkness never deal fairly

(38:16):
with human beings. He who trafficks with them is always cheated.
In the end. It's a mad nightmare, I muttered, But
it seems to me then, that you, as much as
anything else, brought about Roloc's death. It's gratifying to think so,
Heroin answered, Evelyn Gordon is safe now, and it's a

(38:39):
small repayment for what he did to another girl years
ago and in a far country. Thanks for listening. If
you like the show, please share it with someone you
know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters,

(39:03):
or unsolved mysteries like you do. The original short story,
The Haunter of the Ring was written by Robert E. Howard.
Weird Darkness is a production and trademark of Marlar House Productions,
Copyright Weird Darkness. And now that we're coming out of
the dark, I'll leave you with a little light Romans fourteen,
verse nineteen. Let us therefore make every effort to do

(39:25):
what leads to peace and to mutual edification. And a
final thought from Victor Hugo. There are thoughts which are prayers.
There are moments when, whatever the posture of the body,
the soul is on its knees. I'm Darren Marler. Thanks
for joining me in the Weird Darkness.