The Bat is my Brother | Vampire Story | Podcast - Nightshade Diary

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Do you feel a shier up your spine from fear. Yes,
it's another story from the Night's Shade Diary. You know
what that means. Check under the bed and make sure
no one or nothing is there. Is the closet door
securely shut. Then leave your disbelief behind, amp up your imagination,
and hang on tight for another ride into terror and mystery.

(00:23):
And like all good horror stories, just imagine it's a
dark and stormy night, and remember screaming like a little
girl is permitted. The bat is My Brother by Robert Block.
It began in twilight. Twilight. I could not see, my

(00:46):
eyes opened on darkness, and for a moment I wondered
if I were still asleep and dreaming. Then I slid
my hands down and felt the cheap lining of the casket,
and I knew that this nightmare was real. I want
to scream, but who can hear screams through six feet
of earth above a grave. Better to save my breath
and try to save for my sanity. I fell back,

(01:07):
and the darkness rose all around me, the darkness, the cold,
clammy darkness of death. I could not remember how I
had come here, or what hideous error had brought about
my premature interment. All I knew was that I lived,
but unless I managed to escape, I would soon be
in a condition horribly appropriate to my surroundings. Then began

(01:30):
that which I dare not remember in detail, the splintering
of wood, the burrowing struggle through loosely packed grave earth,
the gasping hysteria accompanying my clawing suffocated progress to the
sane surface of the world above. It is enough that
I finally emerged. I could only thank poverty for my deliverance,

(01:50):
the poverty which had placed me in a flimsy, unsealed coffin,
and the pauper's shallow grave, clouded with sticky clay, drenched
with cold purse. Racked by utter revulsion, I crawled forth
from betwixt the gaping jaws of death. Dusk crept between
the tombstones, and somewhere to my left, the moon leered
down to watch the shadowy legions that conquered in the

(02:13):
name of night. The moon saw me, and a wind
whispered furtatively to brooding trees, and the trees bent low
to mumble a message to all those sleeping below their shade.
I grew restless beneath the moon's glaring eye, and I
wanted to leave this spot before the trees had told
my secrets to the nameless, numberless dead. Despite my desire,

(02:35):
several minutes passed before I summoned strength to stand erect
without trembling. Then I breathed deeply a fog and faint putridity,
breathed and turned away along the path. It was at
that moment the figure appeared. It glided like a shadow
from the deeper shadows haunting the trees, and as the

(02:55):
moonlight fell upon a human face, I felt my heart
surge in exultation. I raced toward the waiting figure, words
choking in my throat as they fought for prior utterance.
You'll help me, won't you, I babbled. You can see
they buried me down there. I was trapped alive in
the grave out now you'll understand. I can't remember how

(03:16):
I began, but you'll help me. I had moved in
silent assent. I halted, regaining composure, striving for coherency. This
is awkward, I said more quietly. I've really no right
to ask you for assistance. I don't even know who
you are. The voice from the shadows was only a whisper,
but each word thundered in my brain. I'm a vampire,

(03:39):
said the stranger madness. I turned to flee, but the
voice pursued me. Yes, I am a vampire, he said,
and so are you. Part two. I must have fainted,
then I must have fainted, and he must have carried
me out of the cemetery, for when I opened my
eyes once more, A lay in a sofa in his house.

(04:02):
The paneled walls loomed high, and shadows crawled across the
ceiling beyond the candlelight. I sat a blink and stared
at the stranger, who bent over me. I could see
him now, and I wondered. He was of medium height,
gray haired, clean shaven, and clad discreetly in a dark
business suit. At first glance, he appeared normal enough. As

(04:23):
his face glided towards me. I stared closer, trying to
pierce the veil of this seeming sanity, striving to see
the madness beneath the prosaic exterior of dress and flush.
I stared and saw the witch was worse than any madness.
At close glance, his countenance was cruelly illuminated by the light.

(04:47):
I saw the waxen pallor of his skin. And what
was worse than that, the peculiar corrugation for his entire
face and throat was covered by a web of tiny wrinkles.
And when he smiled, it was with a mummy's grin. Yes,
his face was white and wrinkled, white, wrinkled and long dead.
Only his lips and eyes were alive, and they were

(05:08):
red too. Red. A face as white as corpse flush,
holding lips and eyes as red as blood. He smelled musty.
All these impressions came to me before he spoke. His
voice was like the rustle of the wind through mortuary wreath.
You're awake, is it? Well? Where am I? And who

(05:29):
are you? I asked the questions, but dreaded an answer.
The answer came, You are in my house. You will
be safe here, I think. As for me, I am
your guardian. Guardian, he smiled. I saw his teeth, such
teeth I had never seen save in the maw of
a carnivorous beast. And yet wasn't that the answer? You're bewildered,

(05:53):
my friend, understandably so, and that is why you need
a guardian until you learn the ways of your new life.
I shall protect you. He nodded, Yes, Graham Keen, I
shall protect you. Graham Keen. It was my name. I
knew it now, But how did he know it? The
name of Mercy had grown. Tell me what has happened

(06:15):
to me? He patted my shoulder. Even through the cloth,
I could feel the icy weight of his pallid fingers.
They crawled across my neck like worms, like wriggling white worms.
You must be calm, he told me. This is a
great shock. I know your confusion is understandable. If you
will just relax a bit and listen, I think I

(06:36):
can explain everything I listened. To begin with. You must
accept certain obvious facts, the first being that you are
a vampire. But he pursed his lips, his two red lips,
and nodded, there is no doubt about it. Unfortunately, Can
you tell me how you happened to be emerging from
a grave. No, I don't remember. I must have for

(07:00):
a cataleptic seizure. The shock gave me partial amnesia. But
it will come back to me. I'm all right, I
must be. The words sprang hollow even as they gushed
from my throat. Perhaps, but I think not. He sighed
and pointed, I can prove your condition to you easily enough.
Would you be so good as to tell me what

(07:21):
you see behind you? Graham keen behind me, yes on
the wall, I stared. I don't see anything exactly, but
where is your shadow? I looked again. There was no shadow,
no silhouette. For a moment, my sanity wavered, and I
stared at him. You have no shadow either, I exclaimed, triumphantly.

(07:46):
What does that prove that I'm a vampire? Said easily,
and so are you? Nonsense? It's just a trick of
the light. I scoffed, still skeptical. Then explain this optical
illusion a bony hand and proffered a shining object. I
took it, held it. It was a simple pocket mirror. Look.

(08:08):
I looked. The mirror dropped from my fingers and splintered
on the floor. There's no reflection, I murmured. Vampires have
no reflections. His voice was soft. He might have been
reasoning with a child. If you still doubt, he persisted,
advise you to fill your pulse, try to detect the heartbeat.
Have you ever listened for the faint voice of hope

(08:30):
to sound within you? Knowing that it alone can save you.
Have you ever listened and heard nothing, nothing but the
silence of death? I knew it. Then passed all doubt.
I was of the undead, the undead who cast no shadows,
whose images do not reflect in mirrors, whose hearts are
forever still, but whose bodies live on, live and walk

(08:53):
abroaden take nourishment, nourishment. I thought of my companion's red
lips and his pointed teeth. I thought of the light
blazing in his eyes, a light of hunger. Hunger for what?
How soon as I share that hunger? He must have
sensed the question, for he began to speak once more.
He are satisfied that I speak to truth. I see

(09:15):
that is well. You must accept your condition, and then
prepare to make the necessary adjustments, For there is much
you have to learn in order to face the centuries
to come. To begin with, I will tell you that
many of the common superstitions about people like us are faults.
He might have been discussing the weather, for all the

(09:35):
emotion his face betrayed, But I could not restrain a
shudder revulsion at his words. They say we cannot abide garlic.
That is a lie. They say we cannot cross running water.
Another lie. They say that we must lie by day
in the earth of our own graves. That's picturesque nonsense.
These things, and these alone are true. Remember them, for

(09:58):
they are important to your future. We must sleep by
day and rise only at sunset. At dawn and overpowering lethargy,
bedrugs our senses, and we fall into a coma until dusk.
We need not sleep in coffins. That is sheer melodrama,
I assure you. But it is best to sleep in
darkness and away from any chance of discovering my men.

(10:20):
I do not know why this is so, any more
than I can account for other phenomena relative to the disease.
For vamporism is a disease, you know. He smiled when
he said it. I didn't smile. I groaned. Yes, it
is a disease, contagious, of course, and transmissible in the
classic manner through a bite, like rabies, where we animates

(10:42):
the body of their death. No one can say. And
why is necessary to take certain forms of nourishment to
sustain existence? I do not know. The daylight comas a
more easily classified medical phenomena, perhaps an analogy to the
direct actinic rays of the sun. I am interested in
these matters, and I have studied them. In the centuries

(11:03):
to come. I shall endeavor to do some intensive research
on the problem. It will prove valuable in perpetuating my
existence and yours. The voice was harsher now, the slim
fingers clawed the air in excitement. Think of that for
a moment, Graham keen, he whispered, Forget your morbid, superstitious
dread of this condition, and look at the reality. Picture

(11:26):
yourself as you were before you awoke at sunset. Suppose
you had remained there inside that coffin, never more to
awaken dead that for all eternity, He shook his head.
You can thank your condition for an escape. It gives
you a new life, not just for a few paltry years,
but for centuries, perhaps forever. Yes, think and give thanks.

(11:50):
You need never die now. Weapons cannot harm you, nor disease,
nor the workings of age. You are immortal, and I
shall show you how to live like a god. He's sobered.
But that can wait. First we must attend to our needs.
I want you to listen carefully. Now, put aside your
silly prejudices and hear me out, I will tell you

(12:10):
that which needs to be told regarding our nourishment. It
isn't easy, you know. There aren't any schools you can
attend to learn what to do. There are no correspondence
courses or books of helpful information. You must learn everything
through your own efforts. Everything, even so simple and vital
a matter as biting the neck using the incisors properly,

(12:33):
is entirely a matter of personal judgment. Take that little
detail just as an example. You must choose the classic
trinity to begin with, the time, the place, and the girl.
When you are ready, you must pretend that you are
about to kiss her. Both hands go under the ears
that is important to hold her next daddy, and at
the proper angle. You must keep smiling all the while

(12:55):
without allowing a betrayal of intent to creep into your
features or your eyes. Then you bend your head. You
kiss her throat. If she relaxes, you turn your mouth
to the base of her neck, open it swiftly, and
place the incisor's in position simultaneously. It must be simultaneously.
You bring your left hand up to cover her mouth.

(13:16):
The right hand must find seize and pinion her hands
behind her back. No need to hold her throat now,
the teeth are doing that. Then and only then will
instinct come to your aid. It must come then, because
once you begin, all else swept away in the red,
swirling blur of fulfillment. I cannot describe this intonation as

(13:38):
he spoke, or the unconscious pantomime which accompanied the incredible instruction,
but it's simple to name the look that came into
his eyes. Hunger, Come, Graham Green, he whispered. We must go, now,
go where to dine? He told me to dine? Part three.
He led me from the house and down a garden

(13:59):
pathway through a hedge. The moon was high, and as
we walked along a windswept bluff, flying figure spun a
moving web across the moon's bright face. My companion shrugged,
Patsy said, and smiled. They say that we have the
power of changing shape, that we become bats or wolves.
Alas it's only another superstition. Would that it were true,

(14:22):
for then our life would be easy as it is.
The search for sustenance in mortal form is hard, but
you will soon understand. I drew back. His hand rested
on my shoulder in cold command. Where are you taking me?
I asked to food. Irresolution left me. I emerged from nightmare,
shook myself into santie. No, I won't, I murmur, I can't,

(14:46):
you must, He told me, Do you want to go
back to the grave? I'd rather whispered yes, I'd rather die.
His teeth gleamed in the moonlight. That's the pity of it,
he said, You can't die. You'll weaken with sustenance, yes,
and you will appear to be dead. Then whoever finds
you will put you in the grave, But you'll be

(15:06):
alive down there. How would you like to lie there,
undying in the darkness, writhing as you decay, suffering the
torments of red hunger, as you suffer the pangs of dissolution.
How long do you think that goes on? How long
before the brain itself is rotted away? How long must
one endure the charnal consciousness of a devouring worm? Does

(15:28):
a very dust till billow in agony? His voice held horror.
That is the fate you escaped, But it is the
fate that awaits you unless you dine with me. Besides,
it isn't something to avoid, believe me, And I am sure,
my friend, that you already feel the pangs of appetite.
I could not, dared not answer, for it was true.

(15:51):
Even as he spoke, I felt hunger, a hunger greater
than any I had ever known. Call it a craving,
Call it a desire, call it lust. I've felt it
gnawing deeper than me. Repugnance was nibbled away by the
terrible teeth of growing need. Follow me, he said, and
I followed. Followed along the bluff and down a lonely
country road. We halted abruptly on the highway, A blazing

(16:14):
the ensign winked incongruously ahead. I read the absurd legend
Danny's driving, even as I watched a sign blink up right,
whispered my guardian, it's closing time. They will be leaving now.
Who mister Danny and his waitress, she serves customers in
their cars. They always leave together. I know they are

(16:36):
locking up for the night. Now come along and do
as you are told. I followed him down the road,
His feet crunched gravel as he stalked towards the now
darkened drive and stand. MI stride quickened and excitement. I
moved forward as though pushed by a gigantic han the
hand of hunger. He reached the side door of the shack.
His fingers rasped the screen. An rible voice onunded, what

(17:00):
do you want? We're closing. Can't you serve any more customers? Nah?
Too late? Go away, But we're very hungry. Almost grinned, Yes,
we were very hungry. Beat it. Danny was in no
mood for hospitality. Can't we get anything? Then he was
silent for a moment. He was evidently debating the point.

(17:20):
Then he called to someone inside the stand, Marie, couple
of customers outside, think we can fix them up in
a hurry. Oh, I guess of the voice was soft, complacent.
Wouldn't she be soft and complacent to open up? You guys?
Mind eating outside? Not at all? Open the door, Marie.

(17:41):
Marie's high heels clattered across the wooden floor. She opened
the screen door, blinked out into the darkness. My companion
stepped inside the doorway. Abruptly, he pushed the girl forward. Now,
he rasped, I lunched at her in darkness. I didn't
remember his instructions about smiling at her or placing on
my hand beneath her ears. All I knew was at
her throat was white and smooth, except where a tiny

(18:03):
vein throbbed in her neck. I wanted to touch her
neck there with my fingers, in my mouth, with my teeth.
So I dragged her into the darkness, and my hands
were over her mouth, and I could hear her heels
scraping through the gravel. As I pulled her along from
inside the shack, I heard a single long groan, and
then nothing, nothing except the rushing white blow of her

(18:25):
neck as my face swooped toward the throbbing Vein Part four,
it was cold in the cellar, cold and dark. I
stirred uneasily on my couch, and my eyes blinked open
on blackness. I strained to see, raising myself to a
sitting position as a chill slowly faded from my bones.
I felt sluggish, heavy with reptiliant contentment. I yawned, trying

(18:48):
to grasp a thread of memory from the red haze
cloaking my thoughts. Where was I, How had I come there?
What had I been doing? I yawned. One hand went
to my mouth. My lips were caked with a dry,
flaking substance. I felt it, and then remembrance flooded me.
Last night at the drive in, I'd feasted and then no,

(19:10):
I gasped, you have slept good. My host stood before me.
I rose hastily and confronted him. Tell me it isn't true,
I pleaded. Tell me I was dreaming, you were, he answered.
When I came out of the shack, you lay under
the tree unconscious. I carried you home before dawn and
placed you here to rest. You have been dreaming from

(19:32):
sunrise to sunset, Graham keen, But last night was real.
You mean I took that girl and exactly. He nodded.
But come, we must upstairs and talk. There are certain
questions I must ask. We climbed the stairs slowly and
merged on ground level. Now I could observe my surrounding
with a more objective eye. This house was large and old.

(19:54):
Although completely furnished, it looked somehow untenanted. It was as
though nobody had lived there for a long time. Then
I remembered who my host was and what he was.
I smiled grimly. It was true, nobody was living in
this house. Now dust lay thickly everywhere in the Spiders
had spun patterns of decay in the corners. Shades were

(20:16):
drawn against the darkness, but still it crept in through
the cracked walls. For darkness and the quay belonged here.
We entered a study where I had awakened last night,
and as I was seated, my guardian coctus head towards
me in an attitude of inquiry. Let us speak frankly,
he began, I want you to answer an important question. Yes,

(20:37):
what did you do with her? Her? That girl last night?
What did you do with her body? I put my
hands to my temples. It was all a blur. I
can't seem to remember. His head darted towards me, eyes blazing.
I'll tell you what you did with her, he rasped.
You threw her body down the well. I saw it

(20:59):
floating there. Yes, I groan, I remember, now, you fool,
Why did you do that? I wanted to hide it.
I thought they'd never know, you thought, scorn waited his voice.
You didn't think for an instant. Don't you see now?
She will never rise rise? Yes, as you rose, rise

(21:22):
to become one of us. But I don't understand. This
is painfully evident. He paced the floor, then wheeled towards me.
I see that I shall have to explain certain things
to you. Perhaps you are not to blame because you
didn't realize the situation. Come with me, he beckoned. I followed.
We walked down the hall into a large shelf lining room.

(21:45):
It was obviously a library. He little lamp halted. Take
a look around, he invited. See what you make of it,
my friend. I scanned the titles on the shelves, tidles
stamped in gold on thick, handsome binding, titles worn to
eligilibility on ancient rattled leather. The latest and scientific and

(22:07):
medical treaties stood on these shelves, flanked by agent crusted incunabula.
Modern volumes dealt with psychopathology. The ancient lore was frankly
concerned with black magic. Here is the collection, he whispered.
Here is gathered together all that is known, all that

(22:27):
has ever been written about us, A library on vamporism. Yes,
it took me decades to assemble it completely. But why
because knowledge is power, and it is power I seek. Suddenly,
a resurged insanity impelled me. It shook off the nightmare
enveloping me and sad. An objective viewpoint. A question crept

(22:51):
into my mind, and I did not try to hold
it back. Just to warr you anyway, demanded, what is
your name? My host smiled, I have no name, he answered,
no name. Unfortunate, is it not? When I was buried,
there was no loving friends, apparently to erect the tombstone.

(23:11):
When I arose from the grave, I had no mentor
to guide me back to memory of the past. Those
were barbaric times in the East Prussia of seventeen seventy seven.
You died in seventeen seventy seven, I muttered, to the
best of my knowledge, he retorted, bowing slightly in mocked deprecation.
And so it is that my real name is unknown.

(23:32):
Apparently I perished far from my native heath. For diligent
research on my part has failed to uncover my paternity
or any contemporaries who recognized me at the time of
my resurrection. And so it is that I have no name,
or rather I have many pseudonyms. During the past sixteen decades,
I have traveled far and have been all things to

(23:55):
all men. I shall not endeavor to recite my history.
Is it enough to say that slowly, gradually I've grown
wise in the ways of the world, and I have
evolved a plan to this end. I have a mass
wealth and brought together a library as a basis for
my operations. Those operations I propose will interest you, and

(24:16):
they will explain my anger. When I think of you
throwing the girl's body into the well. He sat down.
I followed suit. I felt anticipation crawling along my spine.
He was about to read something, something I wanted to
hear yet dreaded. The revelation came slyly, slowly. Have you
ever wondered, he began, why there are not more vampires

(24:38):
in the world. What do you mean? Consider it is said,
and it is true that every victim of a vampire
becomes a vampire. In turn, the new vampire finds other victims.
Isn't it reasonable to suppose, therefore, that in a short time,
through sheer mathematical progression, the virus of vaporism would run
epidemic throughout the world. In other words, have you ever

(25:01):
wondered why the world does not filled with the vampires
by this time? Well? Yes, I never thought of it
that way. What is the reason? I asked? He glared
and raised a white finger it' stab forward at my chest,
a rapier of vccusation because of fools like you, fools
who cast their victims into wells, fools whose victims are

(25:24):
buried in sealed coffins, who hide the bodies or dismember
them so no one would suspect their work. As a result,
few new recruits join the ranks, and the old ones,
myself included, are constantly subject to the ravages of the centuries.
We eventually disintegrate. You know, to my knowledge, there are
only a few hundred vampires today, and yet if new

(25:47):
vampires all were given the opportunity to rise, we would
have a vampire army within a year. Within three years,
it would be millions of vampires. Within ten years, we
could rule Earth. Can't you see that? If there were
no cremation, no careless disposal of bodies, no bungling, we
could end our hunted existence as creatures of the night,

(26:09):
brothers of the bat. No longer would we be a legendary,
cowering minority, living each allah unto himself. All that is
needed is a planet, and I I revolved that plan.
His voice rose, so did the hairs upon my neck.
I was beginning to comprehend. Now, suppose we started with

(26:30):
the humble instrument of destiny. He suggested those forlorne unnoticed, ignorant,
little old men, night watchmen of graveyards and cemeteries, a small,
creased discorpsike countenance. Suppose we illuminated them, took over their jobs,
put vampires in their places, men who would go to
the fresh graves and dig up the bodies of each

(26:50):
victim they had bitten. While those bodies were still warm
and pulsing and undecayed. We could save the lives of
most of the recruits. We make reasonable? Is it not?
To me? It was madness? But I nodded. Suppose that
we made victims of those attendants, then carried them off
there's them back to re animation, and allowed them to

(27:10):
resume their posts as our allies. They work only at night.
No one would know. Just a little suggestion, but so obvious,
and it would mean so much. His smile broaden. All
that it takes is organization on our part. I know
many of my brethren. It is might desire soon to
call them together and present this plan. Ever before have

(27:32):
we worked cooperatively. But when I show them the possibilities,
they cannot fail to respond. Can you imagine it an
earth which we could control and terrorize, a world in
which human beings become our property, our cattle. It is
so simple, really, Sweep aside your foolish concepts of Dracula
and the other superstitious confectionery that masquerades in the public

(27:55):
mind as an authentic picture. I admit that we are unearthly,
but there is no reason for us to be stupid
and practical figures of fantasy. There is more for us
than crawling around in black cloaks and recoiling at the
sight of crucifixes. After all, we are a life form,
a race of our own. Biology has not yet recognized us,

(28:17):
but we exist. Our morphology and metabolism has not been
evaluated or charted, our actions and reactions never studied. But
we exist, and we are superior to ordinary mortals. Let
us assert this superiority. Plain human cunning, coupled with our
supernormal powers, can create for us a mastery over all

(28:38):
living things. For we are greater than life. We are
life in death. I half rose, He waved me back breathlessly.
Suppose we band together and make plans. Suppose we go
about first of all, selecting our victims on the basis
of value to our ranks, instead of regarding them as
sources of easy nourishment. Let's think in turn of an

(29:00):
army seeking recruits. Let us select keen brains, youthfully strong bodies.
Let us prey upon the best Earth has to offer.
Then we shall wax strong, and no man shall stay
our hand or teeth. He crouched like a black spider,
spinning his web of words to unmesh my sanity. His
eyes glittered. It was absurd, somehow to see this creature

(29:22):
of superstitious terror, calmly creating a super dictatorship of the dead,
and yet I was one of them. It was real.
The nameless one would do it too. Have you ever
stopped to wonder why I tell you this? Have you
ever stopped to wonder why you are my confidant in
this venture? He purred. I shook my head. It is

(29:43):
because you are young. I am old. For years, have
labored only to this end. None of my plans are perfected.
I need assistance, youth, a modern viewpoint. I know of you,
Graham King. I watched you before you became one of us.
You were selected for this purpose selected. Suddenly it hit home.

(30:05):
I fell down a stranghold gasp as I asked the question,
then you know who did this to me? You know
who bit me? Rotting fangs gaped in a smile. He
nodded slowly. Of course, he whispered, why I did Part five?
He was probably prepared for anything except the commers with

(30:28):
which I accepted this revelation. Certainly he was pleased, And
the rest of that night and all the next night
we spent in going over the plans in detail. I
learned that he had not yet communicated with others in
regard to his ideas. A meeting would be arranged soon.
Then we would begin the campaign. As he said, the
time were ripe war a world and rust we would

(30:50):
be able to move unchallenged and find unusual opportunities. I agreed.
I was enabled to add certain suggestions as to detail.
He was pleased with my cooperation. Then in the third
night came hunger. He offered to serve as my guide,
but I brushed him aside. Let me try my own wings,
I smiled. And after all, I must learn sooner or later,

(31:13):
And I promise you I shall be very careful this time.
I will see to it that the body remains intact.
Then I shall discover the place of burial, and we
can perform an experiment. I will select a likely recruit.
We shall go forth to open the grave, and thus
will we test our plan in miniature. He fairly beamed
at that, and I've went forth that night alone. I

(31:36):
returned only as dawn swelled out of the eastern sky,
returned to slumber through the day. That night we spoke,
and I confided my success to his eager ears. Sidney J.
Garrat is the name, I said a college professor. About
forty five. I found him wandering along a path near
the campus. The trees form a dark, deserted avenue. He

(31:56):
offered no resistance. I left him there. I don't think
dull bother with an autopsy, for the marks and his
throat are invisible, and he is known to have a
weak heart. He lived alone, without relatives. He had no money.
That means a wooden coffin and quick burial at everest
tomorrow tomorrow night, we can go there. My companion nodded,

(32:18):
you have done well, he said. We spent the remainder
of the night in perfecting our plans. We would go
to Everest, locate the night watchman and put him out
of the way. Then seek the new grave of Professor Garat.
And so it was that we re entered the cemetery
in the following evening. Once again a midnight moon glared
from the cyclopean socket of the sky. Once more, the

(32:40):
wind whispered to us on our way, and the trees
bowed in black obscions along the path. We crept up
to the shanty the graveyard watchman and peered through the
window at his stooping figure. I'll knock, I suggested. Then
when he comes to the door, my companion shook his head.
No teeth, he whispered. The man is old, useless to us,

(33:03):
I shall resort to more mundane weapons. I shrugged, and
I knocked. The old man opened the door, blinked out
at me with roomy eyes. What is it, he wheezed queriously.
Ain't nobody supposed to be in cemetery this time of night?
Lean fingers closed around his windpipe. My companion dragged them
forth toward nearby shrubbery. His free arm rose and fell,

(33:26):
and a silver arc stepped down. He had used a knife.
Then we made haste along the path, before the scent
of blood could divert us from our mission. A far ahead,
on the hillside, dedicated to the last lumbers of poverty,
I saw the raw, gaping edges of a new made grave.
He ran back to the hut then and procured spades
we had neglected in our haste. The moon was our lantern,

(33:49):
and the grizzly work began amidst a whistling wind. No
one saw us, no one heard us, for only empty
eyes and shattered ears lay far beneath the earth. We toiled,
and then we stooped and tugged. The grave was deep,
very deep, at the bottom of the coffin lay, and
we dragged forth the pine box. Terrible job, go fide

(34:11):
in my companion. Not a professionally dug grave at all,
in my opinion, wasn't filled in right. And this coffin
is pine but very thick. He'd never cawed his way out,
couldn't break through the boards, and the earth was packed
too tightly. Why would there waste so much time on
a pauper's grave. Doesn't matter, I whispered, Let's open it up.

(34:34):
If he's revived, we must hurry. We brought forth a
hammer from the caretaker's shanty too, and he went down
into the pit itself to pry the nails free. I
heard the board covering move and peered down over the
edge of the grave. He bent forward, stooping to pin
to the coffin, his face a mask of livid death
in the moonlight. I heard him hiss, Why the coffin

(34:58):
is empty, he gasped, not for long. I drew the
wrench from my pocket, raised it, brought it down with
every ounce of strength I possessed, until it shattered through
his skull. And then I leaped down into the pit
and pressed the writhing, mewing shape down into the coffin,
slammed the lid on, and drove the heavy nails into place.

(35:18):
I could hear his whimperings rise to muffled screams, but
the screams grew faint as I began to heap the
clods of earth upon the coffin lid. I worked and
panted there until no sound came from the coffin below.
I packed the earth down hard, harder than I had
last night when I dug the grave in the first place.
And then at last the task was over. He lay

(35:40):
there in the nameless one, the deathless one, lay six
feet on the ground in a stout, wooden coffin. He
could not claw his way free. I knew anyway. If
he did, I'd press him into his wooden, prisoned, face down.
He'd claused way to hell, not to earth. But he
was past the skin. Let him lie there, as he

(36:02):
had described it to me, not dead, not alive. Let
him be conscious as he decayed, and as the wood
decayed and the worms crawled into feasts. Let him suffer
until the maggots at last reached his corrupt brain and
ate away his evil consciousness. I could have driven a
stake through his heart, but his ghastly desire deserved defeat
in his harsher fate. Thus it was ended, and I

(36:25):
could return now before discovery and the coming of dawn,
returned to his great house, which was the only home
I knew on the face of the earth. Return I did,
And for the past hours I have been writing this
that all might know the truth. I am not skilled
with words, and what I read here smacks of mawkish melodrama.
For the world is superstitious and yet cynical. And this

(36:48):
account will we deem the ravings of a fool or madman,
or still as a practical joke. So I must implore you,
if you seek to test the truth of what I've
set down, everest tomorrow and search out the newly dug
grave on the hillside. Talk to the police when they
find the dead watchman, make them go to the well

(37:08):
near Danny's roadside stand. Then, if you must dig up
the grave and to find that which must still writhe
and crawl within, when you see it, you'll believe and injustice.
You will not relieve the torment of that monstrous being
by driving a stake through his heart, for that stake
represents release and peace. I wish you'd come here after

(37:31):
that and bring a stake for me

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