The Rider on the Pale Horse and Another Strange 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

(00:22):
and mystery. 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 Rider on the Pale
Horse by Helen Eustace, Mister Death come a riding end

(00:44):
from the plains on his pale stallion, shooting office pistols,
banguddy bang bang till you'd a thought some engine was
on a spree. Hue. We was scared, all us little ones,
and the grown folks too, Only to them he seemed
more familiar. But he never touched Nerya's soul that day.
But Billy b damn banktry the one the girls was

(01:06):
all crazy for, and mister Death nor one just laid
a finger on him. So he didn't die right off,
but lay there cold and sweat and died of a
bullet in his belly, which was shot off by a
drunken cow poke and a wild euchre game. Now many
girl in our town went to pillows with her tears
when she heard how young Billy was like to die

(01:26):
for He was a handsome manager of all women wild.
But the one that cried and carried on the worst
was pretty little Maud Applegate with the freckles and the
red hair. Old injured Mary was a nurse in belly
with poultices and heathen herbs, and wouldn't let no other
woman near his door. So there wasn't neary a thing
Maud Applicate could do for him. But you can't expect

(01:47):
a red headed woman to just sit around and fret
like you would another girl, and Maud was no exception
to that rule. Though she cried and carried out for
a while, she pretty soon decides something had to be done.
So she right her eyes on her petty skirt, settled
up for daddy's pinto pony, and took out across the
plains after mister death Mount Applegate. She rode high and

(02:10):
she rode low. She rode through the cow country into
the sheep country, through the sheep country into the Injun country,
through the Injun Country to the far mountains, and there
at last she caught up with mister Death just about
a mile down the trail from the little old shack
where he lived with his granny up above the timber line.
When Mount Applegate spied his pale stallion, she was mighty

(02:30):
tired and mighty weary. Her red hair was all tumbled
down her back, and her daddy's pinto was a no
more'n's skin and bone. But she caught up her breath
and sang out loud, Oh, wait up, mister Death, Wait
up for me, mister Death. He pulled up his pale
stallion and looked around, surprised, like for there isn't many
that call out to halt him. Why what you want, missy,

(02:53):
he asked Maud Applegate as she rode up alongside jump
into hossafat. If you don't look like you wrote clean
through the briar patch, Oh, mister Death, Maud panted out.
I rode high and I rode low after you. I
rode through cowcountry into sheep country, through sheep country into
Injun country, through Injun country to the far mountains, and

(03:14):
all to ask you would you spare Billy b damn banktree,
my own true love. At that, mister Death threw back
his head, so his black sombrero slipped off and hung
round his neck by the strings, and he laughed loud.
Now ain't that cute, said mister Death. Honey, I reckon,
you're est about the cutest thing I'm likely to see.

(03:36):
But mad Applegate, she'd rode high and she rode low.
She'd stood thirst, an she stood hunger. She liked to
kill her daddy's pretty little pinto. Furthermore, she was a
red headed woman, and she wasn't going to be laughed at.
So she took and cussed out mister Death. Good she
told him were she come from. No gentleman laughed at

(03:56):
no lady in her true trouble. And she thanked him
to minus manners with her. And she liked to know
who brought him up anyhow, why she knew bucks that
acted better in him. She lay his mammy a spinnin
in her grave, and so on while mister Death he
sobered down shortly and set up straight in his saddle

(04:16):
and listened real still, with only his eyes a blinking.
When Maud gave out of breath, he took out his
packy back, licked the paper and rolled him a smoke.
Will you give me for Billy d Dan Bangtree, said he?
But Mount Applegate, she was really whelmed up. She tossed
her hair like a pony's maid and made a sassy mouth.

(04:37):
I ain't a gonna talk business until I've washed my
face and had me a bite to eat. She and
I've rode high and I rode low. All right, all right,
said mister Death. Right along now, and I'll take it
to my cabin where my old granny will take care
of you. So mad and mister Death, they rode up
the slope, mister Death raining in his pails stallion to
keep down to the poor tired pinto, until only they

(05:00):
came to a little old shack with smoke coming out
of the stovepipe. There was mister Death's granny and standing
in the door as pleased as punch to see some company.
Why you're right welcome, missy, she sang out. Soon as
they are calling distance, the pots on the stove and
the kettle's a berlin, and come right in and rest
yourself a while. So they pulled up, and mister Death

(05:24):
swung down off his pale stalin come round by mad
and lifted her right down to the ground with his
two big hands, a meeting around her little waist. Ah
ain't she the pretty little thing? His granny kept saying
all the while, and hobbling around the dooryard on her
crutch like a bird with a broken wing. Then she
takes mod inside and gave her warm water and an

(05:45):
ivory comb and a pretty white silk wrapper from out
of her old brass bounced chest. And when mister Death
come in from seeing to the hosses, there's Maud Applegate
setting like a red headed angel, drinking tea. Maud she
perked up soon as she got some vittles inside her,
and presently she had mister Death and his grannie laughin
fit to bust with her comical tales of the folks

(06:07):
back home. Soon, mister Death, he said, into yan and
and gaping, I've wrote a far piece to day, he
said to his grannie, I've been twice around the world
and back, and I think I'll lay my head in
your lap and catch forty winks. And shortly he was
a snoring. Then Death's grannie began to talk low tat
Maud Applegate questioned her all about herself and where she

(06:29):
come from, and why she come so mad? Told her
all about Billy b Damn banktry her own true love
lay a dying of a bullet in his belly. So
what could she do but take out after mister Death
to beg him to stay his hand. When Death's Grannie
had heard the whole story, she fetched a great sigh. Well,
she said, it's a great pity to me. You got

(06:51):
your heart set, for you're like the girl I once was.
And if I had my way, y other girl, I'd
choose for my grandson to marry, for I'm all and tired.
I would like to see him settled before I go
to my rest. You're young, and you're pretty, and you
don't stand for no sass, and my old eyes don't
deceive me. You can do a bit of witch in two, now,

(07:14):
ain't that true? Well, Maud answered her modestly. Just a
little of the plane like what now, said Death's Grannie,
white or black? Little of both, said Maud. Wish my
little brother in to pass on his arithmetic, And I
also wish the preacher's wife. So she tripped on a
shoe string and fell on the horse's trough once more,

(07:35):
Death's Grannie fetched a sigh. That's a good start for
young un, said, she don't look to me like a
girl like you ought to waste yourself on no drunken gambling.
Cowhan gets hisself shot up in some fool card game. Howsomever,
If you got your heart set, I'll help you. Whenever
Death cat naps this way, he shortly begins to talk

(07:57):
in a sleep, And when he talks, he'll answer three questions, truly,
and then wake up. What shall I ask him for? You?
Ask him? Said mad right away? What is his price
to let off Billy be damn Panktrey. That's one, said
death Scrannie. You got three questions? What else? At this
mod had to think him presently, she said, ask him

(08:19):
why he took my baby's sister from her cradle. Very well, child,
said Grannie. And one more then maud Applegate bent her
red head near to the red fire and was still.
But at last, she said, kind of low and slow,
ask him what he does when he's lonesome to this
Death's Grannie answered nothing at all, And so they sat

(08:41):
in quiet until shortly Death began to mumble in his sleep. Then,
as Grannie took a hold we lock of his cold
black hair and tweaked a gentle light. Yes, that's said,
but without waking up. Yes, tell me son, Death's grannie said,
bending over his ear, what will you take to let
Billy be? Damn Banktrey. At dith, Death twitched interneously. Oh, Grannie,

(09:06):
he said, she's such a pretty girl. If it was
some I'd make it an eye, and if it was others,
I'd make it ten years a life. But for her,
I'll make it that she must ride with me two
times around the world and give me a kiss on
the lips. At this Mod drawed a great, deep breath

(09:26):
and leaned back in her chair. Well Son said, Grannie,
here's another question she asks of you. Why did you
take her baby's sister from the cradle? Then Death twistedn't turn,
and then sleep again. She was sick, he said, she
was full of pain. I took her so she need
never cry no more. At this Mod bowed her head

(09:47):
and hid her cheek in her hand. Well Son said,
Death's grannie, and here's the last one. What is it
you do when you're lonesome? At dath, Death gave a
regular heave and a great groan and turned his face
from the light of the fire. For a long time
he whispered and mumbled, and finally he said, real low,

(10:07):
I peeped through the windows at how the humans be
in sleep in each other's arms, And with his last
he woke up with a jerk, gave a mighty yawn, saying,
my stars, I must have dropped off now, mister Death.
And as Grannie was cheerful folks in spite of his profession,
and that evening they gave Maud Applegate such a high

(10:28):
old time that she was almost glad she'd come That's Grannie.
She told some mighty out of fine stories about her
young days, and furthermore, she got out her jug of
her BlackBerry wine, and Death he played such merry tunes
on his fiddle that Maud Applegate got right out of
her chair, picked up her skirts, and danced. It was

(10:49):
late that night when That's Grannie showed Maud to a
little trundle bed, all made up fresh, beside her own
four poster. In the morning, That's Grannie had Maud's own
dress allmned in for her, and a fine breakfast of
coffee and ham and grits to stay their stomach for
their long trip. When mister Death brought round his pale stallion,
all saddled and brittled to go, the tears were standing

(11:11):
in his granny's eyes as she kissed Matt Applegate goodbye, goodbye.
Mad said, I thank you for your fine hospitality, and
if it wasn't for Billy b damn Banktreet, my own
true love, I'd be right sorry to go. Mister Death.
He lifted Mad up to his big stallion and leaped astride.
Then away They rode right up the snowy mountaintop into

(11:33):
the sky, and Mount Applegate was the price to find
herself warm and comfortable, riding pillion with her arms wrapped
around mister Death's waist. Then didn't they have a ride?
Mister Death, He rode his pale stallion up the mountains
of the storm to the pastures of the sky, where
the little clouds was grazing besides their big fat white
mammies and the big black daddy clouds kept watch around

(11:57):
the edge, and he rode right up in the fields
where the stars grow and let Mad Applegate pluck a
few to wear in her red hair. He rode past
the moon and when Mad applegate reached out and touched it.
It was cold as snow and slippery too. They couldn't
go too near the sun, mister Death said, lest they
might get burned. But mister Death, he had his business

(12:18):
to tend to, so pretty soon they set out across
the wide ocean on their way to twice around the world.
Mister Death he wrapped mad in his cloak of invisibility
and took her twelve sorts of houses and all sorts
of climes, houses where Chinese folks lived in Rushian and
Japanese and African, and folks that never spoke a word

(12:39):
of English since the day they were born. He showed
her castles and dirty little huts the like of which
she'd never seen in all the state of Texas. He
showed her kings and princes and poor folks and all,
and maybe she didn't just open her eyes, but in
what respect she noticed they was all alike a mister
Death calmed. The living couldn't see him and wept and wailed,

(13:02):
But the folks that was dying rose up to greet
him and smiled at him on their way like day,
knew him for a friend. She was right glad to
see that everybody didn't take him for such a bad
fellow after all. While they rode, mister Death he told
maud Applegate many a pretty tale about his far travels,
and it was plain to see he was a man
new more than liquor in women and ride and herd.

(13:25):
And when they was on their last lap round and
on their way home, mister Death he rode out over
the ocean and showed Mount Applegate where the whales played.
She saw him just as plain and plowing through the
clear green water like a herd of buffalo on a
grassy plain. And he rode over the north Pole for
her to see the polar bears, which was all white
but for their noses. And he showed her the crocodiles

(13:46):
of Egypt drifting down the nile, and the tigers of
India too, and every strange creature with his mate. And
at last Mauda Applegate couldn't help feeling sorry for mister Death,
that he was the only one who had to be
alone in all the whole wide wlad world. But at
last there was loping back over the plain toward our town.
They seen the smoke arising from the stove pipes and chimneys,

(14:08):
into the pale blue sky. They rode right down the
main street, past Tarbell's Imporium, past the Wells Fargo office,
and reined up before the Bluebird's Saloon. Why what's you
pulling up here for, Maud, Applegate asked of mister Death,
feeling surprised, But mister Death only answered, never mind, you'll see,

(14:28):
and swung down out of the saddle. Then he reached
up and lifted Maud down from office pale stallion, and
he wrapped her once more in his cloak of invisibility,
and he said to her, now for the rest of
the bargain. So Maud stood there with her eyes shut,
kind of stiff, and feeling herself for his kiss. Let
nothing happen at all. So she opened them again, and

(14:50):
mister Death said to her, no, mad the bargain was
that you was to kiss me. So Maud, she was
obliged to, asked mister Death, leaning down her head, which
he did, and she was obliged to reach up and
put her mouth on his. Now, maybe she thought it
would be cold, and maybe he thought it would be
fearful to kiss mister Death. I don't know, I'm sure,

(15:12):
but it surely come as a great surprise turn when
she found her two arms around his neck without her
knowing how they got there, and her own two lips
on his. And the truth of the matter is it
was mister Death stepped away the first and told her
soft and low, run along. Now, maud, Billy Be damn
bank Tree, your own true love is getting right in

(15:32):
there and the Bluebird's stout saloon. Then mister Death unwrapped
her from his cloak of invisibility, so she couldn't see
him no more, only hear his spurs jingling as he
walked away, and maud Applegate was left standing by herself
before the Bluebird's Saloon, or inside the window she could
see Billy Be Damn bank Trey, her own true love,

(15:54):
sitting at a table drinking would see with a bunch
of fly young women of a kind doesn't mind and
in saloons. Oh. Then maud Applegate's bosom was so full
of a thousand feelings she thought she would bust. And
she didn't know whether what she wanted most was to
wrench up the hitching rail, bust into the Bluebird's saloon
and lambast her own true love, or whether she'd simply

(16:17):
like to melt of shame and sing through the ground.
Then she noticed that her daddy's pinto, all groomed and saddle,
was tied up by the Bluebird door. She was just
about decide to mount him and gallop off home before
anybody seen her, when Billy b Dan Banktree caught a
sight of her through the window and come pushing out
the swing indoor, swaggering and hitching his pants like he'd

(16:38):
never been half dead in his life. Why he sings out,
If it ain't little mad Applegate waittin for me outside
the Bluebird saloon? Where you been, honey? Here you was away,
mod Applegate. She felt the red coming up in her face.
She snapped back at him. Heard you was mighty sick.
Mighty sick, Billy said, shaking his head, mighty and like

(17:00):
to die. But old injin Mary. She doctored me good
as new with her poultices and herbs. Now this was
the last straw to Maud Applegate. She'd rode hines, she
rode low. She'd rode through cow country to sheep country,
through sheep country to Enginin country, through engine country to
the four Mountains, all to stay the hand of mister death.

(17:20):
From taking Billy b Damn Banktory her own true love.
She'd rode twice around the world and back and gave
a kiss on the lips to a strange man, and
all to say, a fellow, which turned out to be
this horse, smelling whiskey, breathing tobacco, chewing, loose living, gambling,
no good cow hans standing here looking at her like
she was a ripe peach, and all you had to

(17:41):
do was shake the tree mound. Applegate was so mad
she could have cried, but she didn't do no such thing,
since she was a redheaded woman, and besides, something better
came to her mind. Just then She's seen old Pap
Tarbell leaning out the upstairs window of Tarbell's impour him
and Maud she took and witched the spell. When Pap

(18:02):
let fly with his tobacco juice, Maud she witched it
straight into Billy b Damn's Banktry's eye, and while he
was still standing there a cursin and a swearing in
such language as no lady cares to hear. Maud unhitched
her daddy's little pinto pony and leaped astride. She dug
in her heels and set the dust of flne as
she galloped down the street out of town. She rode

(18:23):
through cow country into sheep country, through sheep country into
Injun country, through Injun country to the far mountains, until
she caught sight of mister Death on his pale stallion.
Then she sung out, oh, wait up, mister Death, wait
wait up for me. And when mister Death heard her,
he turned and rode back down the trail, though he
is one who turns back for no man, and he

(18:44):
snatched her off a little pinto and onto his pal stallion.
He held her clothes and he kissed her good. And
pretty soon she said, I guess Gran will be mighty
proud to see you. And Maud Applegate said to him,
just don't let me hear no talk about peeping through
folks windows. Never know more, now, Mound Applegate, she lived
long and happy with mister Death. And from all I

(19:06):
hear she's with him. Yet the fact is she took
to help in him with his work. And when we
was little ones and cross at bedtime and starting to cry,
our mammies will tell us hush now, honey, close your eyes,
and pretty soon Maud Applegate will sit by her bed
and see me la Lapi, and she used to too

(19:27):
hurt her myself. Slaughter House by Richard Matheson. I submit
for your consideration the following manuscript, which was mailed to
this office some weeks ago. It is presented with neither
evidence nor judgment as to its validity. This determination is
for the reader to make. Signed Samuel D. Macladen, Associate's

(19:50):
Secretary Ran, Society for Psychical Research. This occurred many years ago.
My brother Saul and I had taken a fancy to
the old tenantless Lafe house. Since we were boys, the
yellow edge pronouncement for sale had hung lopside in the
grimy front window. We had vowed, with boyish ambition that

(20:10):
when we were old enough, the sign must come down.
When we had attained our manhood, this aspiration somehow remained.
We had a taste for the Victorian soul, and I
his painting was akin to that roseate and buxomed transcription
of nature so endeared by the nineteenth century artists. At
my writing, though far from satisfactorialization was marked by a

(20:31):
meticulous sweep of ornate phrase which the modernist de cures
dullness and artifice. Thus, for the headquarters of our artistic labors.
What better retreat than the slaughter house, that structure which
matched in cornice and freeze our intimate partialities none, we
decided and acted readily on that decision. The yearly endowment
arranged by our deceased parents, albeit meager, we knew to suffice,

(20:55):
since the house was in gross need of repair, and moreover,
without election. There was, also, if hardly credited by us,
a rumor of ghosts. Neighborhood children quite excelled each other,
and relating the harrowing experiences they had undergone with various
of the more imminent specters, we smelled that their clever
fancies never once losing the conviction that purchase of the

(21:18):
house would be wholly practical and satisfactory. The real estate
office bumbled with financial delight the day we took off
their hands what they had long considered a lost cause,
having even gone so far as to remove the house
from their listings. Convenient arrangements were readily fashioned, and in
a matter of hours we had moved all belongings from

(21:39):
our uncommodious flat to our new, relatively large house. Several
days were then spent at the most necessary task of
cleaning this presented itself as far more difficult a project
than first anticipated. Thus lay heavy throughout the house and rooms.
Our energetic dusting would send clouds of it billowing expansively,

(22:00):
filling the air with powdery ghosts of dirt. We noted,
in respect to that observation that many a spectral vision
might thus be made explicable at the proper time were
utilized in experiment. In addition to dust on all places
of lodgment, there was thick grime on glass surfaces, ranging
from downstairs windows to silver scratched mirrors in the upstairs bath.

(22:23):
There were loose banisters to repair door locks, to recondition
yards of thick rugging out of whose mat to be
decades of dust, and a multitude of other chores large
and small to be performed before the house could be
deemed livable. Yet, even with grime and aide admitted that
we had come by an obvious bargain was beyond dispute.

(22:44):
The house was completely furnished. Moreover, furnished in the delightful
mode of the early nineteen hundreds. Soleni were thoroughly enchanted, dusted, aired,
scrub from top to bottom. The house proved indeed a
fascinating purchase, the d our, luxurious drapes, the patterned rugs,
the graceful furniture, the yellow keyed spinnet. Everything was complete

(23:07):
to the last detail, that detail being the portrait or
rather lovely young woman, which hung above the living room mantle.
When first we came upon it, solenized as speechless before
its artistic quality. Sol then spoke of the painter's technique,
and finally, in rapt adulation, discussed with me their various
possibilities as to the identity of the model. It was

(23:29):
our final conjecture that she was the daughter or wife
of a former tenant, whoever he had been beyond having
the name of Slaughter. Several weeks passed by. Initially light
was slaked up by full time occupancy and intense creative effort.
We rose at nine, had our breakfast in the dining room,
then proceeded to our work. I am my sleeping chamber

(23:52):
saw in the solarium, which we have been able to
improvise into a small studio each in our places. The
morning passed quietly and effectively. We lunched at one a
small but nourishing meal, and then resumed work for the afternoon.
We discontinued our labors about four to have tea and
quiet conversation in our elegant front room. By this hour

(24:13):
it was too late to go on with our work,
since darkness would be commencing its surrounding pall on the city.
We had chosen not to install electricity, both for reasons
of monetary prudence and the less sordid one of pure aesthetics.
We would not for the world have distorted the gentle
charm of the house by the additions of Blatant's style

(24:33):
electric light. Indeed, we preferred the flickering silence of candle
light in which to play out nightly games of chess.
We needed no usurping of our silence by noxious radio bleedings.
We ate our bakery bread unsinged, and found our wine
quite adequately cooled from the old ice box. Staul enjoyed
the sense of living in the past, and so did I.

(24:55):
We asked no more, but then began the little things,
the intangible things, the things without reason. Walking on the
stairs in the hallway, through the rooms, saw or eyes
singlear together would stop and receive the strangest impulse in
our minds, a fleeting moment yet quite definite. While existent,

(25:16):
it is difficult to express their feelings with adequate clarity.
It was as if we heard something although there was
no sound, as though we saw something when there was
nothing before the eye, a sense of shifting presence, delicate
and tenuous, hidden from all physical senses, and yet somehow perceived.
There was no explaining it, and point of fact, we

(25:37):
never spoke of it together. It was too nebulous a
feeling to discuss, incapable of being materialized into words, restless
that made us There was no mutual comparison of sensation,
nor could there be. Even the most abstract of thought.
Formation cannot approach what we were experiencing. Sometimes I would

(25:57):
come upon Saul casting a hurried glance over his sh
or reaching out to make contact with empty air, as
though he expected his fingers to touch some invisible entity.
Sometimes he would catch me doing the same. On occasion,
we would smile awkwardly, both of us appreciating the moment
without words, But our smile soon faded. I almost think

(26:18):
we were afraid to deride this unknown ages for fear
that it might prove itself actual. Not that my brother
or I were superstitious in the least degree, the very
fact that we purchased the house without paying the slightest
feasans to the old wives tales about its supposed anathema
seems to be like a suggestion that we were, in
any manner inclined towards mystic apprehensions. Yet the house did seem,

(26:43):
beyond question to possess some strange potency. Often late at
night I would lie awake, knowing somehow that Saul was
also awake in his room, and that we were both
listening and waiting, consciously certain about our expectation of some
unknown of ribe which was soon to be offered. And
it was part two. It was perhaps a month and

(27:07):
a half after we had moved into Slaughterhouse that the
first hint was shown as to the house's occupants other
than ourselves. I was in the narrow kitchen, cooking supper
on a small gas stove. Saw was in the dining
I'll gover, arranging the table for some He had spread
a white cloth over the dark, glossy mahogany on on

(27:28):
it placed two plates with a tend in silver. A
candelabrum of six candles glowed in the center of the table,
casting shadows over the snowy cloth. Saul was about to
place the cups and saucers besides the plates. As I
turned back to the stove, I twisted a knob a
trifle to lower the flame under the chops. Then, as
I began to open the ice box to get the wine,

(27:50):
I heard sawgas loudly and something thumped on the dining
room rug. I whirled and hurried out of the kitchen
as fast as I could. One of the cups had
fallen on to the floor, its handle snapping off. I
hurriedly picked it up, my eyes on Saul. He was
standing with his back to the living room archway, his
right hand pressed to his cheek, a look of speechless

(28:11):
shock contorting his handsome features. What is it, I asked,
placing the cup on the table. He looked at me
without answering, and I noticed how slender fingers trembled on
his whitening cheek. SAUW what is it? A hand? He said,
A hand? It touched my cheek. I believe my mouth
fell open in surprise. I, deep within the inner passages

(28:34):
of my mind, had been expecting something like this to happen,
so had Saul. Yet now that it had a natural
sense of oppressive impact was on both of our shoulders.
We stood there in silence. How can I express my
feeling at that moment? It was as though something tangible,
a tide of choking air, crept over us, like some shapeless,

(28:55):
lethargic serpent. I noticed how Saul's chest moved and convroled
of leaps and depressions, and my own mouth hung open
as I gasped for breath. Then, in an added moment,
the breathless vacuum was gone, the mindless redisolved. I managed
to speak, trusting to break this awesome spell with words.
Are you sure, I asked? His slender throat contracted. He

(29:19):
forced the smile to his lips, a smile more frightened
and pleasant. I hope not, he replied. He reinforced to
smile with some effort. Can it really be, he went on,
his joviality failing noticeably. Can it really be that we've
been duped into buying ourselves a haunted house? I maintained
an effort. She joined in with the spirit of artificial

(29:41):
gusto for the sake of our own minds. But it
could not last long, nor did I feel any abiding comfort.
And Saul's feign composure. We were both exceptionally hypersensitive, had
been ever since our berths mine some twenty seven years
before his twenty five. We both felt this bodiless ammunition
deep in our senses. We spoke no more of it.

(30:03):
Whether from the staste or foreboding, I cannot say. Following
our unenjoyable meal, we spent the remainder of the evening
at pitifully conducted card games. I suggested, in one unguarded
moment of fear, that it might be worth our consideration
to have electrical outlets installed in the house. Paul scoffed
at my apparent submission, and seemed a little more content

(30:26):
to retain the relative dimness of candlelight than the occurrence
before dinner would have seemed to make possible in him.
Notwithstanding that I made no issue of it, we retired
to our rooms quite early, as we usually do. Before
we separated. However, Saul said something quite odd to me
way of thinking. He was standing at the head of
the stairs looking down, or was about to open the

(30:48):
door to my room. Doesn't it all seem familiar? He asked.
I turned to face him, hardly knowing what he was
talking about familiar, I asked of him, I mean, I
had to clarify, as though we'd been here before, no
more than just been here, actually lived here. I looked

(31:08):
at him with a disturbing sense of alarm gnawing at
my mind. He lowered his eyes with a nervous smile,
as though he said something he was just realizing he
should not have said. He stepped off quickly for his room,
muttering a most uncordial good night to me. I then
retired to my own room, wondering about the unusual restlessness

(31:28):
which had seemed to possess Saul throughout the evening, manifesting
itself not only in his words, but in his impatient
card play, his fidgety pose on the chair upon which
he sat, the agitated flexing on his fingers, the rowing
his beautiful dark eyes about the living room as though
he were looking for something in my room. I disrobed

(31:49):
affected my toilet, and was soon in bed. I had
lain there about an hour when I felt the house
shake momentarily, and the air seemed abruptly permeated with a
weird Gordon humming that made my brain throp I pressed
my hand over my ears, and then seemed to wake up.
My ears still covered, the house was still. I was

(32:10):
not at all sure that it had been a dream.
It might have been a heavy truck passing the house,
thus setting the dream into motion. In my upset mind,
I had no way of being absolutely certain. I sat
up and listened for long minutes. I sat stock still
on my bed and tried to hear if there were
any sounds in the house, a burglar, perhaps, or saw

(32:31):
prowling about in his quest of a midnight snack, but
there was nothing. Once, while I glanced at the window,
I thought I saw, out of the corner of my
eye a momentary glare of bluish light shining underneath my door.
But when I quickly turned my head, my eyes saw
only the deepest of blackness, and at length I sank

(32:51):
back on my pillow and fell into a fitful sleep.
Part three. The next day was Sunday. Frequent wakean during
the night, and light troubled sleep had exhausted me. I
remained in bed until ten thirty, although it was my
general habit to rise promptly at nine each day, a
habit I had acquired when quite young. I dressed hastily

(33:14):
and walked across the hall, but Saul was already up.
I felt a slight vexation that he had not come
in to speak to me as he sometimes did, and
not even look in to tell it was past rising time.
I found them in the living room, eating breakfast from
a small table he had placed in from the mantelpiece.
He was sitting in a chair that faced the portrait.

(33:37):
His head moved around quickly as I came in. He
appeared nervous to me. Good morning, He said, why didn't
you wake me up? I said, you know, I never
sleeped the lade. I thought you were tired. He said,
what difference does it all make? I sat down across
from him, feeding rather peevish as I took a warm
biscuit from beneath the napkin and broke it open. Did
you notice the house shaking last night? I asked, no,

(34:00):
did it? I made no reply to the flippant air
of his counter question. I took a bite from my
biscuit and put it down. Coffee, he said, I nodded curtly.
I poured me a cup, apparently oblivious to my peak.
I looked around the table. Where is the sugar, I asked?
I never used it, he answered, you know that I
use it. I said, well, you weren't up, John, he

(34:23):
replied with an antiseptic smile. I arose abruptly and went
into the kitchen. I opened up one side of the cabinet,
retrieved the sugar bowl with irritable fingers. Then, as I
passed it about to leave the room, I tried to
open the other side of the cabinet. It would not open.
The door had been stuck quite fast since we moved
in Sallen. I had decided, in a facetious keeping with

(34:45):
neighborhood tradition, that the cabinet contained shelf upon shelf of
dehydrated ghosts. At the moment, however, I was in little
humor for droll fancies. I pulled at the door knob
with rising anger. That I should suddenly insist on that
moment to open the cabinet only reflected the ill temper
Saul's neglect because so easily created me. I put down

(35:08):
the sugar bowl and placed both hands on the knob.
What on earth are you doing, I heard Saul ask
from the front room. I made no answer to his question,
but pulled harder on the cabinet knob, but it was
as if the door were embedded solidly into the frame,
and I could not loosen it the least fraction of
an inch. What were you doing, Saul asked as I

(35:31):
sat down. Nothing I said in the matter ended I
sat eating with little of any appetite. I do not
know whether I felt more anger than hurt. Perhaps it
was more sense of injuries, since Saul is usually keenly
sensitive to my responses, but that day he seemed not
the slightest receptive. And it was that blossie dispassion in him,

(35:53):
so different from his usual disposition, that had so thoroughly
upset me. Once during the meal, I glanced up at
him to this cover that his eyes were directed over
my shoulder, focusing on something behind me. It caused distinct
ChIL to excite itself across my back. What are you
looking at? I asked of him. His eyes refocused themselves

(36:14):
on me, and the slight smile he held was he
raised from his lips, nothing, he replied. Nonetheless, I twisted
about in my chair to look, but there was only
the portrait over the mantle, and nothing more the portrait,
I asked. He made no answer, but stirred his coffee
with deceptive composure. I said, Saul, I am talking to you.

(36:35):
His dark eyes on me were mockingly cold, as though
they meant to say, well, so you are. But that
is hardly a concern of mine, is it. When he
would not speak, I chose to attempt an alleviation of
this inexplicable tension which had arisen between us. I put
down my cup. Did you sleep while? I asked? His
gaze moved up to me quickly almost I could not

(36:57):
avoid the realization. Almost, Why do you ask? He spoke distrustingly.
Is it such an odd question? Again? He made no reply. Instead,
he passed thin lips with his napkin and pushed back
his chair as though to leave. Excuse me, he muttered,
more from habit than politeness. I sensed, Why are you

(37:20):
being so mysterious? I asked, with genuine concern. He was
on his feet, ready to move away, his face virtually bunt.
I'm not, he said, You're imagining things. I simply could
not understand this sudden alteration in him, nor related to
any equivalent cause. I stared incredulously at him as he
turned away and began walking toward the hallway with short,

(37:40):
impatient steps. He turned left to pass through the archway,
and I heard his quick feet jumping up the carpeted steps.
I sat there, unable to move, looking at the spot
from which he had just disappeared. It was only after
a long while that I had turned once more to
examine the portrait more carefully. There seemed nothing unusual about it.
My eyes moved over the well formed shoulders, to the

(38:03):
slender white throat, the chin, the cupid bowed red lips,
the delicately upturned nose, the frank green eyes. I had
to shake my head. It was only the portrait, wo woman,
and no more. How could this affect any man of sense?
How could it affect Saul? I could not finish my coffee,
but let us stand cold on the table. I rose,

(38:24):
pushed back my chair and started upstairs. I went directly
to my brother's room and turned a knob to enter.
Then felt a stiffening in my body as I realized
he had locked himself in. I turned away from this door,
tight lipped and thoroughly annoyed, disturbed beyond control. As I
sat in my room most of the day, sporadically reading,
I listened for his footsteps in the hall. I tried

(38:47):
to reason out the situation in my mind, to resolve
this alien transformation in his attitude towards me, But there
seemed no resolution, save that of assuming had a imperfect sleep,
or other equally dis satisfying explanations. They served not at
all to decipher his uneasiness, the foreign way in which
his eye regarded me, his marked disinclination to speak civilly.

(39:11):
It was then, against my will and mistake clearly, that
I began to suspect other than ordinary causes, and to
yield a momentary credence to local accounts of the house
on which we lived. We had not spoken of that
hand he had felt. But was it because we believed
it was imagination or because we knew it wasn't. Once

(39:32):
during the afternoon I stood in the hallway with closed eyes,
listening intently, as though I meant to capture some particular
sound and ferret it out. In the deep quiet, I
stood wavering back and forth on the floor, the very
stillness ringing in my ears. I heard nothing, and the
day passed with slow, lonely hours. Saul and I had

(39:53):
a morose supper together, during which he rejected all extended
conversation and multiple offers of card games, Eames and chest
during the later evening. After he had finished his meal,
he returned immediately to his room, and I, after washing
the dishes, returned to mine and soon retired. The dream

(40:13):
returned again, yet not in a certainty a dream, I thought,
lying there in the early morning, And had it not
been a dream, only a hundred trucks could have made
such a vibration as that which shook the house in
my fancy. And the light which shone beneath the door
was too bright for candlelight, a glaring blue luency of illumination,

(40:33):
and the footsteps I heard were very audible. Were there
only in my dream? However? I could not be sure.
Part four was nearly nine thirty before I rose and dressed, strongly,
irritated that my work schedule was being thus altered by concern,
I completed my toilet quickly and went out into the hall,

(40:54):
anxious to lose myself in occupation. Then, as I looked
automatically toward Salt's room, I noticed that the door was
slightly ajar. I immediately assumed he was already up and at
work above in the solarium, so I did not stop
to see. Instead, I hurried downstairs to make myself a
hasty breakfast, noticing as I entered the kitchen that the
room was just as I had left it the night before.

(41:17):
After moderate breakfast, I went upstairs again and entered Saul's room.
It was with some consternation that I found him still
in his bed. I say on rather than in, since
the blankets and sheets had been and violently so it
appeared thrown aside and were hanging down and twisted swirls
upon the wooden floor. Saul lay on the bottom sheet,

(41:38):
clad only in pajama trousers, his chest, shoulders and face
dued with tiny drops of perspiration. I bent over and
shook him once, but he only mumbled in sleep ridden lethargy.
I shook him again with hardening fingers, and he rolled
over angrily. Leave me alone, he spoke, in thick in irritability.
You know I've been. He stopped, as though once more

(42:01):
he was about to speak of something you should not.
You've been, what I inquired, Feeding a rising heat of
aggravation in my system. He said nothing but lay there
on his stomach, his face buried in the white pillow.
I reached down and shook him again by the shoulder,
this time more violently. At this he pushed up abruptly
and almost screamed at me. Get out of here. Are

(42:23):
you going to paint? I asked, shaking nervously. He rolled
on his side and squirmed a little, preparatory to sleep again.
I turned away with a harsh breath of anger. You
make your own breakfast, I said, feeding yet more fury
at the senseless import of my words. As I pulled
shut the door and leaving, I thought I heard Saul laughing.
I went back to my room and started to work

(42:45):
on my play, though hardly with success. My brain could
not grasp concentration. All I could think of was the
uncommon way in which my pleasant life had been usurped.
Saul and I had always been exceptionally close to one another.
Our lives had always been in sad. Our plans were
always mutual plans, our affections invariably directed primarily upon each other.

(43:07):
This had been so since our boyhood. When in grade
school other children laughingly called us the twins and contraction
of our fuller title, the Siamese Twins. And even though
I had been two years ahead of solid school. We
were always together, choosing our friends with a regard to
each other's taste and distaste, living in short with and

(43:29):
for each other. Now, this enraging schism in our relationship,
this harsh severance of comradeley associations, abroughpt painful transmutation from
intimacy to callous and attention. The change was of such
a gravity to me that almost immediately I began to
look for the most grave of causes. And although the

(43:51):
implied solution seemed at the very least tenuous, I could
not help but entertain it willingly, and once more entertain,
I could not removed myself from the notion. In the
quiet of my room, I pondered of ghosts. Was it
then possible that the house was haunted? Hastily umulled over
the invariabous implications, the various intimations that the theory was verifiable,

(44:17):
excluding the possibility that they were dreams. There were the
heaving vibrations and the weird, high pitch humming which had
assailed my brain. There was the eerie blue light I
had dreamed or actually seen beneath my door. And finally,
the most damning of evidence, there was Saul's statements that
he had felt a hand on his cheek, a cold,

(44:37):
damp hand. And yet despite all it is difficult to
admit the existence of ghosts in a coldly factual world.
One's very instincts rebel a didmission of such maddening possibility.
For once the initial step is made into the supernatural,
there is no turning back, no knowing where the strange

(44:58):
road leads, except that it is quite unknown and quite terrible.
So actual with the premonitions, I began to feel that
I put aside my unused writing tablet and Pennon rushed
into the hall, into Saul's room, as though something were
awry there. The ludicrous, unexpected sound of his snorings set
me momentarily at ease, but my smile was short lived,

(45:20):
vanishing instantly when I saw the half empty liquor bottle
on his bedside table. The shock of it made my
flesh grow cold, and the thought came, he has corrupted,
although I had no knowledge of its source. As I
stood there above his spreadigal form, he groaned once and
turned on his back. He had dressed, but his slept

(45:43):
in attire was now disheveled and crumpled. His face, I
noted was unshaven, extremely haggard, and the bloodshot gaze he
directed at me was that of one stranger to another.
What do you want, he asked, in hoarse, unnatural tones.
Are you out of your mind? I said, what? In
God's name? Get out of here? He said again, to
me his brother. I stared at his face, and although

(46:05):
I knew it could be only the result of drinking
distorting his unshaven features, I could not dispel the apprehension
that he was somehow coarse, and a shudder of strange
revulsion ran through me. I was about to take the
bottle away from him when he swung at me, a
wildly inaccurate flinging of the arms, his sense of direction
blunted by a drink thickened brain. I said, get out

(46:28):
o here, he shouted, in a fiery streaks of mottled red,
leaping on to his cheeks. I backed away, almost in fright,
then turned on my heel and hurried into the hall,
trembling with the shock of my brother's unnatural behavior. I
stood outside his door for a long time, listening to him,
housed restlessly on his bed, groaning, and I felt close

(46:49):
to tears. Then, without thought, I descended the darkening stairway,
moved across the living room and dining alcove, and entered
the small kitchen. There, in the black silence, I held
aloft a spluttering match, and then lit heavy candle I
retrieve from the stove. My footsteps as I moved about
the kitchen seemed oddly muffled, as why were hearing them

(47:10):
through thick cotton patting in my ears? And I began
to get the most incongruous sensation that the very silence
was drumming roughly in my ears. As I passed the
left hand side of the cabinet, I found myself swaying heavily,
as though the dead, motionless air had suddenly become mobile
and were buffeting me about. The silence was a roaring now,

(47:32):
and suddenly I clutched out for support. My twitching fingers
knocked a dish on to the top floor. A positive
shudder ran through me then, because the sound of the
breaking dish had been hollow and unreal, the sound of
something greatly distant. If I had not seen the porcelain
fragments lying on the dark tile, I might have sworn

(47:52):
the dish had not shattered at all. With a sense
of mounting restlessness, I pushed my index fingers into my
ears and twisted them around, as if to ease what
seemed an obstruction. Then I clenched my fist and struck
the fastened cabinet door, almost desperate for the comfort of
logical sound. But no matter how many strong my blows,

(48:13):
the sound came to my ears no louder than that
of someone far away knocking at some door. I turned
hastily to the small eyes box, very anxious not to
make my sandwiches and coffee and be out of there.
Up in my room once more, I put the bread
on a tray, poured a cupful of steaming black coffee,
and put the coffee pot down on its burner again. Then,

(48:34):
with the string repedition, I bent over and blew out
the candle. The dining alcove and living room were pressively dark.
Now my heart began to thud heavily as I moved
across the rug. My footsteps smuffled as I walked. I
held the tray in stiff, unfeeling fingers, My gaze directed
straight ahead as I moved. My breath grew more harsh

(48:56):
bursting from my nostrils as I held my lips pressed
tightly together lest they began shaking with fright. The blackness
and the dead utter silence seemed to crush on me
like solid walls. I held my throat stiff, my every
muscle suspended by will, for fear that relaxation would cause
me to shake without control. Half way to the hall

(49:19):
I heard it, a soft, bubbling laughter which seemed to
permeate the room like a cloud of smoke. A swampy
way of coldness covered my body, and my footsteps halted abruptly.
As my legs and body stiffened. The laughter did not cease.
It continued moving about me, as if some one or

(49:39):
something circled me on soundless tread, its eyes always on me.
I began to tremble, and in the stillness I could
hear the rattling of the cup of my tray, and
suddenly a damn cold hand pressed against my cheek. With
a terrified howl of fear, I dropped the tray and
ran wildly into the hall and up the stairs, my

(50:00):
weakening legs propelling me forward in the blackness. As I ran,
there was another gush of liquid laughter behind me, like
a thin trail of icy air in the stillness. I
locked the door in my room and hurled myself on
the bed, pulling the bed spread o'er myself with shaking fingers,
my eyes tightly shut. I lay there with heart pounding
against the mattress, and in my mind the hideous cognition

(50:23):
that all my fears were justified was a knife stabbing
at delicate tissues. It was all true, as actually, as
if a living human hand had touched me. I had
felt that cold and soggy hand on my cheek, But
one living person was down there in the darkness. For
a short time I belied to myself that had been

(50:45):
souls executing a cruel and vicious joke. But I knew
it not have been him, for I would have heard
his footsteps, and I had heard none, either before or now.
The clock was chiming ten when I was able at
last to summon the courage to throw the spread, scrabbled
for the box of matches on my bedside table and
light the candle. At first a guttering light A sage

(51:08):
feared slightly, but then I saw how little it illuminated
the silent darkness. And I avoided with a shudder the
sight of a huge and shapeless walls. I cursed the
old house for its lack of electricity, fear might be
eased and blazing lamplight as it was, the imperfect flickering
of that tiny flame did nothing to allay my fears.

(51:29):
I wanted to go across the hall and see if
Saul were all right, but I was afraid to open
my door, imagining hideous apparitions lurking there in the blackness,
hearing once more in my mind the ugly vised laughter.
I hoped that Saw was so hopelessly under alcoholic influence
that nothing short of an earthquake could awaken him. And

(51:49):
though I yearned to be near him, even if he
were treating me faithlessly, I felt no courage whatsoever, and
quickly undressing, I hastened to my bed and buried my
head beneath the blankets. Again Part five. I woke suddenly,
shivering and afraid. The bedclothes were gone from my body,
the black silence as awful as it had been earlier

(52:11):
in the night. I reached for the blankets anxiously, my
fingers groping for them. They had fallen from the edge
of the bed. I rolled on my side hurriedly and
reached down, my fingers recoiling as they came in contact
with the icy floorboards. Then as I reached for the blankets,
I saw the light beneath the door. It remained inside

(52:32):
only the fragment of a second, but I knew I
had seen it, and as it passed abruptly from my eyes,
the throbbing began. My room seemed filled with the humming repulsations.
I could feel the bed shaking beneath me, and my
skin growing tot and frigid, my teeth chattering together. Then
the light appeared again, and I heard a sound of
bare feet and knew it was saw walking in the night.

(52:55):
Durven more by fear for safety than by courage, I
threw my legs over the side of the bed and
patted to the door, shuddering at the iciness of the
flooring beneath my souls. Slowly I opened the door, my
body held tight in anticipation of what I might see.
But the hall was pitch black, and I walked out
and over to the door of Saul's room, listening to

(53:16):
see if I could hear the sound of him breathing,
But before I could judge anything, the hall below was
suddenly illuminated with an unearthly blue glow, and I turned
and rushed again instinctively to the head of the stairs,
and stood there, clutching the old banister, staring down below.
An aura of intense, brilliant blue light was passing through

(53:40):
the hall, moving in the direction of the living room.
My heart leaped. Saul was following it, arms ahead of
him in the familiar pose of the somnib list, his
eyes staring ahead and glittering in the shapeless blue effulgence.
I tried to call his name, but found that my
voice could make no utterance. I tried to move for

(54:01):
the stairs, to wrest my sol away from this terror,
but a wall invisible in the blackness held me back.
It grew close and airless. I struggled violently, but it
was to no avail. My muscles were strengthless against a horrible,
impossible power that clutched me, and suddenly my nostrils and
brains were sulted by a pungent, sickly odor that made

(54:24):
my senses real. My throat and stomach burned with almost
tangible fire. The darkness grew more intense. It seemed to
cling to me like hot black mud, constricting my chest
so that I could hardly breathe. It was like being
very alive in a black oven, my body bound and
rebound with heavy grave wrappings. I trembled, sobbing, ineffectual. Then

(54:45):
abruptly it all passed, and I stood there in the
cold hallway, soaked with perspiration. Weak from my frantic efforts,
I tried to move but could not. Tried to remember Sol,
but was incapable of preventing the thought of him from
slipping from my numbed brain. I shivered and turned to
go back to my room. By the first step, my
legs buckled and I pitched forward heavily on the floor.

(55:08):
The icy surface of it pressed against my flesh, and
my body racked by shivering. I lost consciousness. When my
eyes opened again, I lay crumpled on the cold floor.
I rose to a sitting position, the hall before my
eyes wavering in alternate tides of light and darkness. My
chest felt tight, and a remorseless chill gripped my body.

(55:30):
I pulled myself up to a bent over stance and
staggered to Salt's room. A cough burning in my throat
as I stumbled across the floor and against his bed.
He was there and looked emaciated. He was unshaven, and
the dark, wiry growth of skin seemed like some repugnant growth.
His mouth was opening and emitting sounds of exhausted slumber,
and a smooth white chest rose and fell with shallow movements.

(55:53):
He made no motion as I tug weakly at his shoulder.
I spoke his name. Was shocked at the hoarse, grating
sound of my own voice. I spoke it again, and
he stirred with a grumble and opened one eye to
look at me. I'm sick, I muttered, Saul, I'm sick.
He rolled on one side, turning his back to me.
A sob of anguish toward my throat saw He seemed

(56:15):
to snap his body round insanely. Then his hands clenched
into bony white fist at his sides. Get out of here,
he screamed, leave me alone, or I'll kill you. The
body shaking impact of his words drove me back from
the bed to where I stood dumbly staring at him,
breath stabbing at my throat. I saw him toss his
body back over as if he wanted to break it,

(56:38):
and I heard him mutter to himself miserably, why does
the day have to last so long? A spasm of
coughing struck me then, and my chest aching with fiery pains.
I struggled back to my own room and got into
bed with the movements of an old man. I fell
back onto the pillow, pulled up the blankets, then lay there,
shivering and helpless. I slept all day, in spasmodic periods,

(57:02):
offset by waking moments of extreme pain. I was unable
to rise to get myself food or water. All I
could do was lie there, shaking and weeping. I felt
beaten as much by Saul's cruelty to me as by
the physical suffering, and the pain in my body was
extremely severe, so much so that during one seizure of
coughing it was so awful I began to cry like

(57:23):
a child, hitting the mattress with weak and effective fist
and kicking my legs deliriously. Yet even then I think
I wept for more than the pain I wept from
my only brother, who loved me. Not it seemed that
night came more swiftly than I had ever seen it
come before. I lay alone in the darkness, praying through

(57:44):
mute lips that no harm should come to him. I
slept around. Then abruptly I was awake, staring at the
light beneath the door, hearing the high pitch humming in
my ears. And I realized in that moment the sal
still loved me, but the house had corrupted his love.
And from this nolle, which came resolution from despair, I
gained amazing heart. I struggled to my feet and swayed there,

(58:06):
dizzily onto the streaks before my eyes dispersed. Then I
put on my robe and slippers, went to the door
and threw it open. What made things happen as they did,
I cannot say. Perhaps it was my feeling of courage
that caused the black obstruction in the hall to melt
before me. The house was trembling with the vibrations and
the humming, yet there seemed to lessen as I moved

(58:27):
down the hallway, and all of a sudden, the blue
light vanished from the living room, and I heard loud
and furious rumblings there. When I entered, the room was
in its usual order. A candle was burning on the mantel,
but my eyes were vetted to the scenter of the floor.
Saul stood there, half naked and motionless, his body poised
as though he were dancing. His eyes fastened to the portrait.

(58:50):
I spoke his name sharply. His eyes blinked as Lilya's
head turned to me. He didn't seem to comprehend my
presence there, for suddenly his glance flew about the room,
and he cried out in despairing tones, come back, come back.
I called his name again, and he stopped looking around,
but directed his gaze at me. His face was gaunt

(59:10):
and cruelly lined, and the flickering candlelight it was the
face of a lunatic. He gnashed his teeth together and
started to move toward me. I'll kill you, he muttered,
in liquid tones. I'll kill you. I backed away. Saul,
you're out of your mind. You don't a good say
no more, for he rushed at me, his hand extended
as if he could clutch up my throat. I tried

(59:32):
to step aside, but he grabbed hold of my robe
and pulled me against him. We began to struggle, I
begging him to throw off this terrible spell. He was
under he panting and gnashing his teeth. My head was
being shaken from side to side, and I saw our
monstrous shadows heaving on the walls. Saul's grip was not
his own. I've always been stronger than he, but at

(59:54):
that moment, his hands seemed like a cold iron. I
began to choke, and his face blurred before my eyes.
I lost balance and we both fell heavily to the floor.
I felt the prickly rug against my cheek, his cold
hands tightening on my throat. Then my hand came in
contact with something cold and hard. It was a tray
had dropped the night before, I realized. I gripped it, and,

(01:00:15):
realizing that he was out of his mind and meant
to kill me, I picked it up and drove it
across his head with all the power I had remaining.
It was a heavy metal tray, and Saul sank to
the floor as if struck dead, his hands slipping from
my bruised throat. I struggled up, gasping for breath, and
looked at him. Blood was running from a deep gash
in his forehead, where the edge of the tray had

(01:00:36):
struck Saul. I screamed, horrified at what I'd done. Frantically,
I leaped up and rushed to the front door. As
I flung it open, I saw a man walking by
the street. I ran to the porch rayli and called
to him. Help. I cried, call an ambulance. The man
lurched and looked at me with startled fright. For God's sake,

(01:00:57):
I beseeched him, my brother has struck his head. Please,
he's calling an ambulance. For a long moment, he stared
at me, open mouthed, and broke into a nervous flight
up the street. I called after him, but he would
not stop to listen. I was certain he would not
do so as I had asked. As I turned back,
I saw my bloodless face in the hall mirror and
realized the stought that I must have frightened the wits

(01:01:18):
out of the man. I felt weak and afraid again.
The momentary strength stopped from me. My throat was draw
and raw, my stomach on edge. I was barely able
to walk back to the living room on trembling stalks
of legs. I tried to lift Paul to a couch,
but dead weight was too much for me, and I
sank to my knees beside him. My body swumped forward

(01:01:40):
and half crouched half way by the side of my brother.
The harsh sound of my breathing was the only sound
I could hear. My left hand stroked Salt's hair absently,
and quiet tears flowed from my eyes. I cannot say
how long I have been there. When the throbbing began again,
as if to show me that I hadn't really gone away,

(01:02:01):
I still crouched it like a dead thing, my brain
almost in cooma. I could feel my heart beating like
some old clock in my chest, the duliged and muffled
pendulum hitting against my ridge with a lifeless rhythm. All
sound registered with similar force, the clock on the mantel,
my heart, and the endless throbbing, all blending into one

(01:02:22):
horrible beat that became a part of me, that became me.
I could sense myself sinking deeper and deeper, as a
drowning man's slips beneath the silent waters. Then I thought
I heard a tapping of feet through the room, the
rustling of skirts, and far off, a hollow laughter of women.

(01:02:43):
I RaSE my abruptly, my skin tight and cold, A
figure in white stood in the doorway. It began to
move toward me, and I rose with a strangled cry
my lips, only to collapse into darkness. Part six. What
I had seen had been not a ghost, but an
interurn from the hospital. The man I had called in
the street had apparently done what I had asked. It

(01:03:05):
will give some indication of the state I was in
when I revealed that I heard neither the ringing of
the front door bell nor the pounding of the intern's
fist on the half open door. Indeed, had the door
not been open, I am certain that I would be
dead now. They took Saul to the hospital to have
his head care for, there being nothing wrong with me,
but nervous exhaustion remained in the house. I had wanted

(01:03:26):
to go with Saul, was told that the hospital was
overcrowded and I would do more good by staying home
in bed. I slept late the next morning, rising about eleven,
I went downstairs and had a substantial breakfast, then returned
to my room and slept a few more hours. About two,
I had some lunch plan to leave the house well
before darkness to make sure nothing further happened to me

(01:03:49):
I could find a room in a hotel. It was
clear that we should have to desert the place, regardless
of whether we sold it or not. I anticipated some
trouble with Saul on that point, but made up my
mind to stand firm on my decision. About five o'clock
I dressed and left my room, carrying a small bag
for the night. The day was almost gone, and I

(01:04:10):
hurried down the stairs, not wishing to remain in the
house any longer. At the bottom of the staircase, I
stepped across the entry hall and closed my hand over
the door knob. The door would not open. At first,
I would not allow myself to believe this. I stood there, tugging,
trying to combat the cold numbness that was spreading itself
over my body. Then I dropped my bag and pulled

(01:04:33):
at the knob with both hands, but to no avail.
It was as securely fastened as the cabinet door in
the kitchen. Suddenly I turned from the door and ran
into the living room, but all the windows were jammed
fastened to their frames. I looked around the room, whimpering
like a child, feeling unspoken hate for myself, for letting
myself be trapped again, I cursed loudly, and as I did,

(01:04:54):
a cold wind lifted the hat from my head and
hurled it across the floor. Abruptly, I placed my shaking
hands over my eyes and stood trembling violently, afraid of
what might happen any second, my heart hammering against my chest.
The room seemed to chill markedly, and I heard that
grotesque coming noise again that came as if from another world.

(01:05:16):
It sounded like laughter to me, laughter that mocked me
for my poor feeble efforts to escape. Then, with the
equal suddenness, I remembered Saul again, remembered that he needed me,
and I pulled away my hands from my eyes and
screamed a lot. Nothing in this house can harm me.
Sudden cessation and the sound gave me added courage. If

(01:05:38):
my will could successfully defy the ungodly powers of the place,
then perhaps it could also destroy them. If I went upstairs,
if I slept in Saul's bed, then I too would
know what he had experienced, and then be enabled to
help him. I found no lack of confidence in my
will to resist, never once stopping to think the idea
might not be my own quickly, two steps at a time,

(01:06:00):
I rushed up the stairs and into my brother's room. There,
I quickly removed my hat, overcoat and soupcoat, loosened my
tying collar, and sat down the bed. Then, after a moment,
I lay down and looked up at the darkening ceiling.
I tried to keep my eyes open, but still fatigued,
I soon fell asleep. It seemed only a moment before
was fully awake, my body tingling with sensations of not

(01:06:22):
unpleasant character. I could not understand the strangeness of it.
The darkness seemed alive. It shimmered under my gaze as
I lay there, warm with a heat that betokened sensualism,
although there was hardly any apparent cause for such a feeling.
I whispered Saul's name without thinking. Then the thought of
him was taken away from my brain, as if invisible

(01:06:43):
fingers had plucked it away. I remember rolling over and
laughing to myself, behavior most extraordinary, if not unseemly for
a person of my steady inclinations. The pillow felt like
silk out against my face, and my senses began to fade.
The darkness crept over me like warm syrup, soothing my
body and mind. I muttered senselessly to myself, feeding as

(01:07:05):
if my muscles were suck dry of all energy, heavy
as rock and lethargic with a delicious exhaustion. Then, when
I had almost slipped away, I felt another presence in
the room. To my incredulous realization, it was not only
familiar to me, but absolutely no fear of it, only
an inexplicable sense of languorous expectation. Then she came to me,

(01:07:29):
the girl in the portrait. I stared at the blue
haze about her for Lily. A moment for this quickly faded,
and in my arms was a vibrantly warm body. I
remember no feature of her behavior, for everything was lost
in overall sensation, a sensation mix of excitement and revulsion,
a sense of hideous yet overpowering rapacity. I hung suspended

(01:07:54):
in a cloud of ambivalence, my soul and body corroded
with unnatural desire, and in my mind, mind and echoing
on my tongue, I spoke a name over and over again,
the name Clarissa. How can I judge the number of sick,
erotic moments I spent there with her? Sense of time
completely vanished from the scheme of things. A thick giddiness

(01:08:15):
enveloped me. I tried to fight it, but it was
no use. I was consumed, as my brother Saul had
been consumed by this foul presence from the grave of night. Then,
in some inconceivable fashion, we were no longer in the bed,
but downstairs, whirling about in the living room, dancing wildly
and closely. There was no music, only the incessant beating rhythm.

(01:08:38):
I had heard those nights before, yet now it seemed
like music to me as I spun about the floor,
holding in my arms the ghost of a dead woman
in transpire stunning beauty, yet at the same time repelled
with my uncontrollable hunger for her. Once I closed my
eyes for a second and felt a terrible coldness crawling
in my stomach, opened them, it was gone, and I

(01:09:02):
was happy, once more happy. It seemed hardly the word
now say, rather hypnotized torpid. My brain a numb, a
vessel of flesh, and able to remove me when I
owed it from this clutching spell. Dancing went on and
on the floor was filled with couples. I am sure

(01:09:22):
of that, And yet I recall no aspect of their
dress or for all I remember is their faces white
and glistening, their eyes dull and lifeless, their mouths hanging
open like dark, bloodless wounds. Again, and a round, and
then a man with a large tray standing in the
hallway arch, and suddenly immersion in the dark, empty and

(01:09:43):
still part seven. I awoke with a sense of complete exhaustion.
I was soaked with perspiration, dressed only in my bottom
of the garment. My clothes lay scattered across the floor,
apparently thrown about in a frenzy. The bedclothes also lit
in distorted heaps on the floor. From all appearances, I

(01:10:03):
had gone insane the night before. The light from the
window annoyed me for some reason, and quickly I shut
my eyes, reluctant to believe it was morning again. I
turned over on to my stomach and put my head
beneath the pillow. I could still remember the enticing odor
of her hair. The memory of it made my body
shudder with odious craving. Then a warmth began to cover

(01:10:27):
my back, and I raised myself up with a muttering frown.
The sunlight was streaming through the window onto my back
with a restless movement. I pushed myself up, threw my
legs up with the side of the bed, and got
up to draw the shades. It was a little better
without the glare. I threw myself on the bed again,
closed my eyes tightly, and crowded the pillow over my head.

(01:10:49):
I felt the light. It sounds incredible, I know, but
I felt that as surely as through certain creeper plants
that climbed toward the light without ever seeing it. And
feeling light, I yearned all the more for darkness. I
felt like some nocturnal creature, somehow forced into brightness, repelled
and pained by it. I sat on the bed and

(01:11:10):
looked around, A sound of unremitting complaint in my throat.
I bit my lips, clenched and unclenched my hands, wanting
to strike out violently at something, at anything. I found
myself standing over an unlit candle, blowing sharply on it.
I knew even then the senselessness of the act, and
yet I did it, nevertheless, trying inanely to make in

(01:11:31):
invisible flame go out, so that night could return through
its dark roads, bringing back Clarissa, Clarissa. A clicking sound
filled my throat, and my body positively writhed, not in
pain or pleasure, but in the combination of the two.
I put my brother's robe over my body and wandered

(01:11:51):
out into the silent hallway. There was no physical wants,
no hunger, thirst, or other needs. I was a detached body,
a comatose slave to the tyranny which had shackled me
and now refused to let me go. I stood at
the head of the stairway, listening intently, trying to imagine
her gliding up to meet me, warm and vibrant in

(01:12:11):
her midst of blue Clarissa. I closed my eyes quickly,
my teeth grated together, and for a split second I
felt my body stiffen with fright. For a moment I
was returned to myself, But then in another breath, I
was enslaved again. I stood there, feeling myself a part
of the house, as much a portion of it as
the beams or the windows. I breathed its breath, felt

(01:12:34):
this soundless heart beat and my own. I became at
one with an inanimate body, knowing its past life, sensing
the dead hands that had curled their fingers on the
arms of the chairs, on banisters on door knobs, hearing
the labored tread of invisible footsteps moving through the house,
the laughter of long consumed humor. If in those moments

(01:12:56):
I lost my soul, I became a part of the
emptiness and stillness that surrounded me. An emptiness I could
not sense, nor stillness feel for being drugged. Drugged with
the formless presence of the past, I was no longer
living person. I was dead in awe, but those bodily
functions which kept me from complete satisfaction. Quietly and without passion,

(01:13:19):
the thought of killing myself drifted through my mind. It
was gone in a moment, but its passage had stirred
no more in me than apathetic recognition. My thoughts were
on the life beyond life, and present existence was no
more than a minor obstruction which I could tumble with
the slightest touch of razored steel, the minutest drop of poison.

(01:13:40):
I had become the master of life, for I could
use destruction with the most complete apathy. Night night, when
would it come? I heard my voice, thin and hoarse,
crying out in the silence. Why does the day have
to last so long? The words shocked me back again,
foresaw spoken them. I blinked, looked around me as if

(01:14:03):
just realizing where I was. What was this terrible power
over me? I tried to break its hold, but in
the very effort slipped back again to find myself once
more in that strange cooma which suspends the very ill,
and that slender portion of existence between life and death.
I was hanging on a thread over the pit of
everything that was hidden to me before. Now I could

(01:14:24):
see and hear, and the power to cut the thread
was in my hands. I could let myself hang until
the strands parted one by one and lowered me slowly down.
Or I could wait until, driven beyond endurance, then ended suddenly,
cut myself loose and plunged down into the darkness, that
signal darkness where she and hers remained always. Then I

(01:14:45):
would offer maddening warmth. Maybe it was her coldness, her comfort.
Then I could pass eternal moments with her and laugh
at the robot world. I wondered if it would help
me to get dread drunk and lose all consciousness till night.
I descended the stairs and unfeeling legs, and several long
time before the mantle, looking up at her I had

(01:15:06):
no idea what time it was, nor did I care
time was relative, even forgotten. I neither knew of it
nor cared about it. Had she smiled at me? Then? Yes,
her eyes glowed? How they glowed in the dimness. That
smell again, that pleasant? Yet something exiledly musky and pungent

(01:15:26):
about it? What was sal to me? The idea filled
my mind. He was no relation of mine. He was
a stranger, one other society, another flush, another life. I
felt complete dispassion toward him. You hate him, said the
voice in my mind. That was when it all collapsed,
like a flimsy house of cards. For those words coustad

(01:15:48):
a rebellion in my innermost mind. That suddenly my eyes
were cleared, as those skills had fallen from them. I
looked about my head, snapping crazily. What in God's name
was I doing? Still here and the house. With a
shiver of angry fear, I jumped to my feet and
ran upstairs address. As I passed the hawk clock, I
saw with a start that it was past three in

(01:16:10):
the afternoon. As I dressed, normal sensations returned one by one.
I felt the cold floor beneath my bare feet became
aware of hunger and thirst, heard the deep silence of
the house. Everything flooded over me. I knew I Saw
had wanted to die while he loathed the day and
waited for the night with such angry impatience. I could
explain it to him now, and he would understand, because

(01:16:33):
I had been through it myself. As I ran down
the stairs, I thought about the dead of slaughter House,
so outraged at their own inexplicable curse that they tried
to drag the living down into their endless hell. Over
Over exalted my mind. As I locked a front door
behind me and started through the misty rain to the hospital,

(01:16:54):
I did not see the shadow behind me crouching on
the porch. Part eight. When the woman at the hospital
desk told me that Saw had been discharged two hours
before my arrival, I was too stunned to speak. I
clutched at the counter, staring at her, hearing myself tell
her that she must be mistaken. My voice was hoarse, unnatural.

(01:17:15):
The woman shook her head. I sagged against the counter.
Then all the drive gone out of me. I felt
very tired and afraid. A saw broke in my throat
as I turned away, and I saw people staring at me.
While I moved across the tower floor with unsteady motions,
everything seemed to swirl about me. I staggered, almost fell.

(01:17:35):
Someone closed my arm and asked me if I were
all right. I muttered something in reply and pulled away
from the person, without even noting if it were a
man or a woman. I pushed out through the door
and into the gray light. It was raining harder, and
I pulled up my coat collar. Where was he? The
question burned in my mind, and the answer to it
came quickly, too quickly, Saul was back at the house,

(01:17:57):
I felt sure of. It made me start running up
the dark street toward the trolley car tracks. I ran
for endless blocks. All I remember is the rain driving
against my face and the gray buildings floating by. There
were no people in the streets, and all the taxi
cabs were full. It was getting darker and darker. My
legs almost buckled, and I was thrown against a lamp

(01:18:20):
post and clung to it, afraid of falling into the
streaming gutter. And ugly clanking filled my ears. I looked
up and chased after the trolley car and caught at
the next block, I handed the conductor dollar and had
to be called back from my change. I stood hanging
from a backstrap, swaying back and forth with the motion
of the car, my mind tormented by thoughts of Saul

(01:18:42):
alone in that house of horror. The warm, stale air
of the car began to make me sick to the stomach.
I could smell the raincoats in the wet clothes of
the people caught in the rain, as well as the
smell of dripping umbrellas and packages soaked. I closed my
eyes and stood their teeth clenched, praying that I would
get home before it was too late. I got off

(01:19:03):
the car at last and ran up the block as
fast as I could. The rain sprayed over my face
and ran into my eyes, almost blinding me. I slipped
and went sprawling on the sidewalk, skinning my hands and knees.
I pushed up with a whine, feeding the clothes soaked
against me. I kept running wildly, only sensing the direction
by instinct, until I stopped and saw through the thick

(01:19:24):
veil of rain the house in front of me. High
and dark, it seemed to crawl over the ground toward me.
And clutch me to itself, For I found myself standing
as shivering on the wooden porch. I coughed and felt
the chilter my flesh. I tried the door. At first
I could not believe it. It was still locked, and
Saul had no cree Almost cring in gratitude, I ran

(01:19:47):
down from the porch. Where was he? Then? I had
to find him? It started down the path. Then, as
shortly as if I had been tapped on the shoulder,
I whirled about and stared up at the porch. A
flash of lightning a loom aide the darkness, and I
saw the broken, jagged edge window. My breath caught, and
I stared at it, my heart pounding like a heavy

(01:20:07):
piston in my chest. He was in there? Had she
come already? Was he lying upstairs in some beds, smiling
to himself in the blackness, waiting for her Lumino itself
to come over and envelop him. I had to save him.
Without hesitation, I ran up on the porch and unlocked
the door, leaving it wide open so that we could escape.
I moved across the rug and into the steps. The

(01:20:29):
house was quiet, even the storm seemed apart from it.
The rushing sound of the rain seemed to grow less
and less distinct. Then I turned with a gasp as
the front door slam shut behind me. I was trapped.
The thought drove barbs of fear into me, and I
almost ran down to try to escape. But I remembered
Saul and fought to quicken resolution. I had conquered the

(01:20:51):
house once, and I could do it again. I had
to for him. I started up the stairs again. Outside
the flashes of lightning was like false neyon, trying to
invade the austerity of the house. I held on to
the banister tightly, muttering beneath my breath to keep attention
from degrading into fright. Afraid to let the spell of
the house beset me again, I reached the door to

(01:21:14):
my brother's room. There I stopped. I leaned against the wall,
eyes closed. What if I found him dead? I knew
the sight would unnerve me. The house might defeat me. Then,
taking me in that moment of utter despair and twisting
my soul from my grip. I could not let myself
conceive of it. I would not allow myself to realization

(01:21:35):
that without soul life was empty. A meaningless travesty. He
was alive. Nervously, my hands numbed with fright. I pushed
open the door. The room was ostygian cave. My throat
contracted and I took a deep breath. I clenched tight
fist at my sides. Saul I called his name softly.

(01:21:57):
The thunder roared, and my voice disappeared beneath the sway.
A flash of lightning brought a split second of daylight
into the room, and I looked around quickly, hoping to
see him. Then it was dark again and silent except
for the endless rain falling on the windows and roof.
I took another step across the rug cautiously, my ears tense,
trying to hear every sound made me splart. I twitched

(01:22:20):
and shuffled across the floor. Was he here? But he
must be If he were here in the house, this
was the room he would be in, Saul, I called louder.
Saul answer me. I began to walk toward the bed.
Then the door slammed behind me, and there was a
rushing sound behind me in the darkness. I whirled to

(01:22:41):
meet it. I felt his hand clamp on my arm.
Saul I cried lightning filled the room with hideous light,
and I saw his twisted white face the candlestick held
in his right hand. Then he struck me a violent
blow on the forehead, driving a wedge of agonizing pain
into my brain. I felt his hand release me as
I lump to my knees, and my face brushed against

(01:23:02):
his bare leg as I fell forward. The last sun
I heard before my mind fell into the darkness was laughing,
and laughing and laughing. Part nine. I opened my eyes.
I was still lying on the rug. Outside it was
raining even harder. The sun was like the crashing of
a waterfall. Thunder still rolled in the sky, and flashes

(01:23:22):
of lightning made the night brilliant. And one flash. I
looked at the bed. The sight of the covers and
sheets all thrown about insanely made me push up. Saul
was downstairs with her. I tried to get to my feet,
but the pain in my head drove me back to
my knees. I shook my head feebly, running trembling hands

(01:23:43):
over my cheeks, feeling the gouged wound in my forehead,
the dried blood which had trickled down across one temple.
I swayed back and forth on my knees, moaning. I
seemed to be back in that void again, struggling to
regain a hold on my life. The power of the
house arron me, the power which I knew was her power,

(01:24:03):
a cruel and malignant vitality, which tried to drink out
the life force from me and draw me down into
the pit. Then once more I remembered saw my brother,
and the remembrance brought me back the strength I needed. No,
I cried out, as if the house had told me
I was now its helpless captive, and I pushed to

(01:24:24):
my feet, ignoring the dizziness, stumbling through a cloud of
pain across the floor, gasping for breath. The house was
throbbing and humming, filled with that obnoxious smell. I ran
drunkenly for the door, found myself running into the bed.
I drew back with almost a snarl at the numbing
pain in my shins. I turned in the direction of

(01:24:45):
the door and ran again. I did not even hold
my arms ahead of me, and had no chance to
brace myself when I ran into the door. Dizzly excruciating
pain of my nose being nearly broken caused a howl
of agony to pass my lips. Blood immediately began gushing
down my mouth, and I had to keep wiping it away.

(01:25:05):
I jerked open the door and ran into the hall,
feeling myself on the border of insanity. The hot blood
kept running down across my chin, and I felt it
dripping and soaking into my coat. My hat had fallen off,
but I still wore my raincoat over my suit. I
was too bereft of perception to notice that nothing held
me back. At the head of the stairs, I half ran,

(01:25:27):
half slid down the stairs, goaded on by that humming,
formless laughter, which was music and mockery. The pain in
my head was terrible. Every downward step made it feel
as if someone drove a nail into my brain. Saul, Saul,
I cried out, running into the living room, gagging as
I tried to call his name a third time. The
living room was dark, permeating with its sickly odor. It

(01:25:50):
made my head reel, but I kept moving. It seemed
to thicken as I moved from the kitchen. I ran
into the small room and leaned against the door, almost
unable to breathe. Pinpoints of light spinning before my eyes
then As lightning illuminated the room, I saw the left
cupboard door wide open, and inside a large bowl filled

(01:26:11):
with what looked like flower. As I stared at it,
tears rolled down my cheeks and my tongue felt like
dry cloth in my mouth. I backed out of the kitchen,
choking for breath, feeding, as if my strength were almost gone.
I turned and ran into the living room, still looking
for my brother. Then, in another flash of lightning, I
looked at a portrait. It was different, and the difference

(01:26:33):
froze me to the spot. Her face was no longer beautiful,
whether it was shadow that did it or actual change.
Her expression was one of vicious cruelty. The eyes glittered,
there was an insane cast to her smile. Even her hands,
once folded a repose, now seemed more like cload, waiting
to strike out and kill. It was when I backed

(01:26:54):
away from her that I stumbled and fell over the
body of my brother. I pushed up to my knees
and stared down into the blackness. One flash of lightning
after another showed me his white, dead face, the smile
of hideous knowledge on his lips, the look of insane
joy in his wide open eyes. My mouth fell open,
and breath caught in me. It seemed as if my

(01:27:15):
world was ending. I could not believe it was true.
I clutched on my hair and whimpered, almost believing that
in a moment Mother would wake me for my nightmare,
and I would look across at Saul's bed, small at
his innocent sleep, and lie down again, secure the memory
of his dark care on the white pillow. But it
did not end. The rain slapped presently at the windows,

(01:27:36):
and thunder drove deafening fist against the earth. I looked
up at the portrait. I felt as dead as my brother.
I did not hesitate. Calmly, I stood and walked to
the mantel. There were matches there. I picked up the box. Instantly,
She divined my thoughts. For the box was torn from
my fingers and hurled against the wall. I dove forward
and was tripped by some invisible force. Those cold hands

(01:28:00):
clutched at my throat. I felt no fright, but tore
them away with a snarl and drove for the matches again.
Blood began running fast, and I spat out some. I
picked up the box. It was torn away again, this
time to burst and spray matches all over the rug.
A great hum of anguish seemed to rock the house.
As I reached for a match, I was grabbed. I

(01:28:21):
tore loose. I fell to my knees and slapped at
the rug in the darkness. As lightning ceased. My arms
were held tightly. Something cold and wet ran around in
my stomach. With moniacal fury. I pressed my teeth against
the match. I saw the lightning and bit at the head.
There was no rewarding flare. The house was trembling violently now,

(01:28:43):
and I heard rustlings about me, as if she had
called them all to frighten me, to save their cursed existence.
I bit at another match. A white face stared at
me from the rug, and I spat blood at it.
It disappeared. I tore one arm loose and grabbed a match,
jerked myself to the mantel, and dragged the match across
the rough wood. A speck of flame flared up in

(01:29:05):
my finger, and I was released. The throbbing seemed more
violent now, but I knew it was helpless against flame.
I protected the flame in my hand, though less that
cold wind come again and try to blow it out.
I held the match against the magazine that was lying
on a chair, and it flared up. I shook it,
and the pages puffed into flame. I threw it down

(01:29:26):
on the rug. I went around in that light, stracking
one match after another, avoiding the sight of Saul lying there.
She had destroyed him. Now I would destroy her forever.
I gnitted the curtains. I started the rug to smoldering.
I set fire to the furniture the house rock, and
a whistling sigh rose, and an ebb like the wind.

(01:29:47):
At last, I stood erect the end of flaming room.
My eyes riveted on the portrait. I walked slowly towards it.
She knew my intention for the housewalk even harder, and
a shrieking began. It seemed to come from the walls.
And I knew then that the house was controlled by her,
and that her power was in that portrait. I drew

(01:30:08):
it down from the wall. It shook in my very
hands as if it were alive, but a shudder of repugnance,
I tow it on the flames. I almost fellow. The
floor shuddered as if an earthquake were striking the land.
But then it stopped, and the portrait was burning, and
the last effect of her was gone. I was alone
in an old burning house. I did not want anyone
to know about my brother. I did not want anyone

(01:30:31):
to see his face like that. So I lifted him
and put him on the couch. I do not understand
to this day how I could lift him up when
it felt so weak. It was a strength not my own.
I sat at his feet, stroking his hand until the
flames grew too hot. Then I rose, I bent over
and kissed him on the lips for a last goodbye.

(01:30:52):
And I walked from the house into the rain. And
I never came back, because it was nothing to ever
come back for. This is the end of the manuscript.
There seems no adequate evidence to describe the events recounted
as true, but the following facts taken from the city's
police files might prove of interest. In nineteen o one,

(01:31:15):
the city was severely shocked by the most wholesome murder
ever perpetrated in its history. At the height of a
party being held at the home of mister and missus
Marlin Slaughter and their daughter Clarissa, an unknown person poisoned
the punch by placing a very large amount of arsenic
in it, everyone died. The case was never solved, although
various theories were put forth as to its solution. One

(01:31:38):
thesis had it that the murderer was one of those
who died. As to the identity of this murderer, the
position had it that it was not a murderer, but
a murder rests, although nothing definitely exists to go by.
There are several testimonies which referred to that poor child Clarissa,

(01:32:01):
and indicate that the young woman had been suffering for
some years from a severe mental aberration, which her parents
had tried to keep a secret from the neighbors and authorities.
The party in mention was supposed to have been planned
to celebrate what her parents took for the recovery of
her faculties. As the body the young man later supposed
to be in the wreckage, a thorough search has revealed nothing.

(01:32:23):
It may be that the entire story's imagination fabricated by
the one brother in order to conceal the death of
the other, said death probably being unnatural. Thus, the older brother,
knowing the story of the house tragedy, may have used
it for a fantastic evidence in his favor. Whatever the truth,
the older brother has never been heard of again, either
in this city or in any of the adjacent localities.

(01:32:46):
And that is the story. S d M.

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}The Rider on the Pale Horse and Another Strange Story | Podcast