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CRYPT OF
CTHULHU
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Volume 6, Number 8 Michaelmas 1987
CONTENTS
It Came from the Past 2
By Ramsey Campbell
The Haunted Manor 5
The Oak Chest 6
The Hollow in the Woods 8
Things from the Sea 11
The Crave in the Desert 13
Accident 19
The Friend 15
The Devil's Cart 16
Tern Bashish 18
The Whirlpool 20
The Whispering Horror 22
Bradmoor 29
Hybrid 39
The Tower 36
Conversation in a Railway Carriage 91
The Mask 93
Premonition 98
R'lyeh Review 51
Mail-Call of Cthulhu 52
1
2
it came from the past
T. V. Boardman & Co., Ltd.

Publishers
37, Hertford Street, London, W. 1
26th August, 1958
Master John R. Campbell,

90, Nook Rise,
LIVERPOOL, 15.
Dear John,
Thank you for sending us your illustrated book entitled GHOSTLY

TALES. We have read these stories with great interest as they are very
well written and show real promise but we regret that we must return
them to you without an offer as we do not publish Ghost stories.
We should like to take this opportunity of encouraging you to

continue with your writing because you have definite talent and very good
imaginative qualities. It means a lot of hard work to become an author
but with the promising start you have made there is every possibility
that you will make the grade.
With very best wishes for a successful future.
Yours sincerely.
Tom Boardman, Jr.

Michaelmas 1987 / 3
I should think most of my read- some (not necessarily the most

ers know that it was August Der- technically competent) would have
leth who launched me on my career, been entirely at home there. How-
but now we see that Tom Boardman ever, my mother, who regarded
had encouraged me three years be- literary success as a possible way
fore was in touch with Derleth.
I of financing her escape from her
Tom Boardman's words are those of disastrous marriage, persuaded me
a prophet and a gentleman. I've to wait until had a whole book to
I
often said that, had been Derleth, I show to publishers, presumably on

I should have seen less promise in the basis that they would find a
my early Lovecraftian oozings than collection of unpublished tales more
he did; how perceptive Tom Board- tempting. By the time completed
I
man needed to be is for the reader it and set about writing something
of this book to judge. propose I else for Phantom the magazine was
,
to blame Bob Price for its resur- about to fold.

rection, since while the rest of my I've little more to say, though
audience at last year's World Fan- my readers may thank me for de-
tasy Convention shuddered and laying their acquaintance with the
blanched and groaned as quoted I book. I've a lurking fondness for
from "The Hollow in the Woods," some aspects of it: the way I
Bob was seized by an urge to be- blithely invented a phrase and

hold the tale in all its ungainliness called it Egyptian, for instance. I
and then to send it staggering out see many of the surnames of

that
into the world. I sent him a copy, characters from "The Hollow in the
and I didn't realize what I'd done Woods" onward were the names of
until too late. The influence of schoolmates, including the six vic-
this horror from the past had pos- tims of Tom Bart, the murderer.
sessed him, and nothing short of The English teacher. Brother Kelly,
publishing the entire tome, whose used to have me read the stories
existence had previously been ru- to the class; suppose at least the
I
moured only in whispers, would one that is clearly based on Dennis

satisfy him. Wheatley seemed impeccably Chris-
Disconcertingly, the book proves tian. Other derivations leave the
I
to be little worse than its main in- reader to discover. think it's
I
fluence. This was Phantom a mag- , clear how much needed to study
I
azine from Bolton, Lancashire, ap- Lovecraft, and a couple of years

parently edited by a large spider later I did. Still, the book con-
whose editorials were headed "A tains at least one line which too
Word from the Web." The first many of my contemporaries might
(April claimed to pub-
1957) issue have written, and perhaps it's
lish "True Ghost Stories," but by worth publishing the book for the
the end, in July 1958, the subtitle sake of the line and quite a few
had become "Weird Tales." Indeed, like it: "The door banged open,
Weird Tales provided some reprints, and the afore-mentioned skeleton
by Leiber and Wellman and others, rushed in."
but it's the influence of tales by
unknowns you will find in the pres-
ent book. believe began writ-
I I Ramsey Campbell
ing these tales with an eye to sub- Merseyside, England
mitting some of them to Phantom ; 29 May 1987
Michaelmas 1987 / 5
Cije $aunteli iUanor
The manor stands in the centre

Of a circle of old, gnarled trees;
They guard it, like grim figures.
Never swaying in the breeze.
The Walls are thick with ivy.

The windows, gaping holes;
Now, the wind is whistling through them.
The sound, like crying souls.
The manor is deserted.

For no-one dares go near;
The people in the country round
Speak of it with fear.
And now the wind stops howling.

And a bird flies up in fright;
It has seen a phantom walking
Through the dark and lonely night.
He is drawn towards a bloodstain

In a certain manor room;
Though dead, at night he haunts it.
For such must be his doom.
For here, he shot himself.

His debts were far too high;
Now, punished for eternity
He can never die!
6 / Crypt of Cthulhu
The clock struck midnight. An "I didn't say thought the house
I
owl hooted somewhere out in the was haunted, but all the same,
darkness. Rover, the dog, twitched I do. There's a feeling in the air."
in his sleep. Then he opened one Ascratching sound came from
eye, looked up the staircase that the door.
led to his master's and mistress's "What
did tell you!" shrieked
I
bedroom. And then he leaped

. . . Jane. Don't" open the door!"
up, his teeth bared, his eyes bulg- Crash went the cup onto the floor.
ing, every hair bristling. But Jack opened it slowly, re-
For Something was coming down vealing . . Rover the dog, de-
.
the stairs. manding to be taken for a walk.
and Mrs. Johnson had found

Mr. Inthe now empty house, nothing
the oak chest in the attic when stirred. Then ...
in the attic,
they bought the house. Johnson the oak chest's lid moved. A green
didn't care for it, and Mrs. John- thread of matter trickled through
son hated
"those cats' heads," the gap. It hung on the air, like
which were
cat faces, carved on a silken thread. Then it was joined
the of the chest.
lid by another, which melted into the
One
day, three weeks after first. The green matter solidified,
they had moved in, Jane (Mrs. and became an arm. It stretched
Johnson) said "You know that old itself, and then withdrew into the
chest in the attic?" chest.
"Yes?" said David (Mr. John- It had been hard work, holding
son ) the lid shut.
"Well," said Jane, "you know we
didn't open it when we found it? The door closed downstairs. Jane
Well, tried it this afternoon, and
I
and David and Rover had returned.
do you know, it waujdn^ open!" Rover, freed of his lead, went and
"Locked ...
or stuck," said laid on the hearth rug. Jane and
David, lighting a cigarette. David listened to some jazz and
"Yes, but Suppose there's
. . . comedy programmes.
something in it? Jewels or maybe . After the last one David said
. ." she hesitated ". .a body ?" . "I'm going to bed How about
"The trouble with you, darling," you?"
said David, settling back in his "Yes," said Jane, "1 think 1
chair, "is that you read too many will."

ghost stories. Look at the one She had been in bed about half
you've got now! Spine-Chilling an hour when she heard something
Stories How can you think this
! moving in the attic. She called
house is haunted?" sharply, "David, listen!" but only
"Oh, very well," said Jane, got "For heaven's sake let me get
picking up a clip from the table. some sleep!" as a reply.
Michaelmas 1987 / 7
window, then went and telephoned

the police. . . .
In the hall lay the body of

Rover the dog. The bodies of Mr.
and Mrs. Johnson lay in their beds.
In each case there were two tiny
holes in the throat, and the bodies
were bloodless hulks. . . .
"Did you know the previous

owner committed suicide?" said the
Inspector in charge to one of the
constables. "I believe his body
was stashed in an oak coffin."
"Suicides are supposed to be-
come vampires," said the constable.
"Vampires indeed!" ejaculated
the Inspector. "In this modern
age. ..."
She called again, "David, wake
up! " and finally he said "Well, what
is it? Hear a skeleton knocking at
the door?"
"No, but there's somebody in OTHER CRYPTIC PUBLICATIONS
the attic," she answered.
"Humph. Well, what did you Shudder Stories #1 $4.00
wake. What did you say?"
. . .
Shudder Stories #2 $4.00
He listened. It was true; a creak-
Shudder Storie s #3 $4.00
ing came from the room above Shudder Stories #4 $4.00
. .
. a sound like the lid of a chest

Shudder Stories #6 $4.50
lifting.
Risque Stories #1 $4.00
only took him a little time to
It
Risque Stories #2 $4.00
reach the attic door; he was hin- Risque Stories #3 $4.00
dered, however, by slipping on a Risque Stories #5 $4.50
. . thing . which, he saw, . . .
Two-Fisted Detective Stories
was a cutting of garlic; and he by Robert E. Howard . . . $4.50
realised there was one on most of The Adventures of Lal Sinqh
the stairs leading up to the attic. by Robert E. Howard . . . $3.00
He wrenched open the door, Pay Day by Robert E.
found the attic in darkness. Howard $3.50
In
the minute it took to find the light Lewd Tales by Robert E.
switch, he heard something moving Howard $4.00
about in the dark, and then heard Lurid Confessions #1 $4.00
the oak chest's lid slam down. Astro-Adventures #2 $4.50
By
the time he had pulled the switch, Tales of Lovecraftian
the oak chest was shut; and every- Horror $4.00
thing was still. Cromlech: T he Journal of
The oak chest wouldn't open; Robert E. [iow^rd Criti-
he hadn't cism '
T. $3.50
expected it to. He . . . .
grunted and wrenched Verses Dedic atory by

it for a
few minutes, but Lord Dunsany, Lin
was firmly
it
wedged . . . almost as though it
Carter (ed. ) $2.00
was being held from the inside. . .
But he could do nothing. the Book of Eibon by

He went
back to bed. Lin Carter $1.00
Outside of USA and Canada, add
In the morning the milkman got $1.00 per booklet for postage. Pay
no answer, even when he kicked in U. S. funds.
the door. He looked in the front
. .
I hate the dreadful hollow behind the little wood.

Its lips in the field above are dabbled with bloodred heath.
The red ribb'd hedges drip with a silent horror of blood.
And Echo there, whatever's asked her, answers "Death."
Tennyson
I he shivered again and gave a low

sob, "Mary and I. Poor . . .
"Do you know any ghost sto- Mary ..." He turned away and
ries?" said I, to my friend Hamil- I saw his shoulders heaving.
ton . "Something happened to her,
"I know a supernatural story," then?" I asked sympathetically,
he answered, "but it's not very using all the empathy could mus-
I
nice. For one thing, it's true, ter. I had a nasty feeling that
and for another, it happened to whatever that had happened was
me. Have you ever heard of a to do with the story and . . .
thing called a shoggoth?" what was the word? .shog- . .
"No, never," answered. "What I goths. It was a pity I'd started

is it?" on this; if he was going to break
"Well, the best way to answer down every few minutes, wouldn't I
that is to tell you the whole story," be able to piece it together. Then
Hamilton said. "So, if you're not Hamilton turned his face back to
squeamish. I'll begin." (I thought, me; his eyes were reddened, he
rather absurdly, of Listen With said: "Look, do you mind if I
Mother ) go home? I'll see you tomorrow,

''it started," he began, "one day and maybe I'll tell you the story."
when was walking in the woods
I "No, of course don't mind,
I
with my sister. We ware just talk- old boy," assured him. "By the
I
ing and strolling along, when she way, since you came, there's been
slipped and nearly fell. We were a car crash on the road and there's
on the edge of the Hollow. . . . a road block up. Bits of metal and
"There was a little white boulder glass everywhere . You'll have
. .
at the bottom; at least, we thought to go through the woods."

it was a little white boulder. We "N-not the woods !" Hamilton
were too young to know of . . . shrieked. "They they they're
such things ..." He shuddered the woods was telling you about!
I
violently I can't go that way!"

"How old were you at the time?" "But it's the only way," told I
I interrupted. him firmly. "You can't stay here.

"Just turned eight, both of us," See you tomorrow."
Michaelmas 1987 / 9
"Very well," suddenly

he said, with the Hollow. And those things
calm. "See you tomorrow." He that he called Shoggoths. So I
went to the door and let himself went into the woods one night.
out. Iwatched him go towards the I've regretted it ever since, but
woods. As he reached them the now it's too late.
trees seemed to close in on him . . . When reached the Hollow I I
"See you tomorrow," he had realised why Mary had tripped.

said. But the next morning his There were long white sticks lying
body was lying in the woods, close all round the little clearing in which
to a little hollow. His neck had the Hollow was. And in the Hollow
been broken. two white boulders lay side by
II
side, while near them lay more
of the long white sticks. . . .
It made quite a sensation in the White sticks ? Boulders ?

local paper. "Murder by person or stared at them in horror. They
1
persons unknown," was the verdict lay there grinning up at me . . .
at the inquest. The person or human skulls! And the white sticks
persons remained unknown. But I . the white sticks were human
. .
wondered. Shoqqoth ? bones! The whole place was an

I looked it up in the dictionary. open graveyard.
Finally, found it, tucked away in
I
The trees were swaying as
a corner. Shoggoth: evil spirit or though in a wind. The branches
demon ha the shape of^ a tree with were reaching for me, like skeleton
mouths scatt ered over its trunk. hands ...
a shadow fell over the
Could it break a man's neck?
thought it possible; now
I ground in front a thing like ...
knew the I a tree with mouths all over its
truth of what happened to Hamilton trunk ...
its roots were snake-
and his sister. like tentacles that groped over the
oones tne Dranches were
. . .
ireaching for my throat. ... fell I
Mnto the Hollow and cracked my

forehead against one of the skulls
I ... I fell through a red, spinning
void. . . .
At when first,
regained con- I
sciousness, thought I'd gone I
blind. But then realised that I
one of the skulls was lying on my

face. jumped up and threw the
I
horrible thing away.

Then saw Them. The shog-
I
goths were crawling down the sides

of the Hollow on three sides of me.
The slimy things had puckered
Of course, nobody will believe mouths over the branches. They
me, except Connor, one of the were reaching for me. . . .
schizophrenic patients. And he Isprinted up the fourth side of

doesn't count, because our doctor the Hollow, while the shoggoths
says he's one of the craziest pa- mumbled and moaned and stretched
tients in the asylum. their branches towards me.
. . .
Then
Oh, aM^ righ t I'll
. get on with the others showed themselves. Two
the story. Whoever you are, glowing green figures
I
Hamil- . . .
don't know why you're listening to ton and his sister standing . . .
my story. by the shoggoths beckoning . . .
Anyway, I knew now that his with long skeleton fingers and call-
death must have something to do ing, "Come, John! Come! Life
holds no attractions for you. You

will be happy with us. Come to
us!" But ran away from the evil
I
place in the woods, and never I
went back. But (now know, I
for I made inquiries in the village)

many people
went through the
woods and were never seen again.
The woods are evil the shog- . . .
goths live there, and they are

over-running the earth. They are
spirits, but they can be captured
and killed, by certain rituals and world, with all its memories. But
exorcisms, that will be found in you, whoever you are, can kill the
some grimores. shoggoths. Co into any wood and
But am digressing. Two weeks
I
you will find. . . .
later, was more or less normal,

I
and fell in love with a girl. Three

I
Here the journal of this patient
months later married her. And I
ends. He disappeared from the
one night, someone 'phoned her up asylum last night; one of the walls
and asked her to meet him in the was smashed in and tree branches
woods. didn't know where she'd
I
were found scattered around his
gone until found a note on theI
cell. His disappearance has not
kitchen table. tried to bring her I
yet been accounted for; it is just
back; but seemed to be running
I
another strange problem that will
in circles, and the next morning I never be solved.
still hadn't found her.
NEW GRUE
The fifth issue of Crue mag-
azine is now available for $4.00
from Hell's Kitchen Productions,
P. O. Box 370, Times Square
Station, New York, NY 10108.
The editorial team of Peggy
Nadramia, Peter H. Gilmore,
3nd Lori Katz have done an-
other fine job of assembling
never found her.
I
fiction, poetry, and art by

That was when had a nervous I
many leading talents in the
breakdown; finally my doctor gave world of contemporary small
up hope and sent me off to an
press horror. For example,
asylum. And, even now, in the you will find tales by Steve
asylum, Mary Hamilton and her Rasnic Tern, David B. Silva,
brother come to me in the night.
Joe Lansdale, Wayne Allen Sal-
Nobody can see them except me;
lee, and Thomas Ligotti, a
the doctors say my case is hope-
favorite among Crypt readers.
less, and I'm happier here than
I could ever be, in the outer
Michaelmas 1987 / 11
When I, and my friend Hartley, (I knew

his address, as he had it
met the creature that called itself in wallet.)
his He woke up as I
Ennis, we thought it was human. was leaving, and asked me to stay

I was taking Hartley out in my the night. accepted. I
motor-boat, and we came across In the morning, he asked me to

one of those small rocks that jut stay for breakfast. Again ac- I
out of the sea. We found Ennis cepted-then quickly refused when

hanging on to it, and screaming in I saw what it was that he expected
a horrible high-pitched voice. The me to eat. Raw meat, running with
waves were smashing against him. rivulets of fresh blood. And the
His eyes they were bright
. . . drinks were
of a red liquid. It
green . .were dilated.
. looked suspiciously like blood-
We pulled him off the rock and blood of an animal; but had a I
laid him on the bottom of the boat. horrifying feeling that it was human
I started up the motor; the vibra- blood. And the raw meat. . . .
tion woke him, and he jumped up. Ennis raised his eyebrows when
As the rays of the setting sun drew 1 refused. "Raw meat is very good
a red path across the water, he for you," he said. A huge, bloated
shrieked into the swirling liquid spider fell from the ceiling on a
"Ki! Zora nozak!" could have
I silken thread and alighted on the
sworn that a thin red hand rose plate of raw meat that Ennis had
out of the water and then fell back, set out for me. "If you will not
as though the owner was ex- eat your meat, then Spider will eat
hausted. But, of course, told I it," he said. He picked up a fly
myself it was a fish. that had landed on the table, and
I took Ennis home, where he gave the fly to the Spider.
promptly went to sleep on the sofa. ran out of that terrible place
I
as as my legs would carry me.

fast "Stay there, you you. . .
I looked back once; Ennis was ghoul " shouted Hartley before he
I
pointing his finger at me and cack- could say any more. Then he
ling, while his horrible pet sat on (Hartley) shrieked, "John, look
the meat and sucked at the fly. . . out ! The sharks are trying to
. I bumped into an old man. "Where tear bits off our boat! We must
have you been?" he asked. "At distract them!" Then he took a
Ennis's place," said. "What, him
I gun from his pocket and said "I
with the four wives?" remarked the won't regret this," and shot Ennis.
old man. "Four wives," gasped. I The sharks made short work of
"Yes; they all disappeared," he his body.
answered. "The fourth went only But have a feeling that the
I
two days ago." leant against I affair is not over yet. Before I
the wall for support, a sickening went to sleep at Ennis's house that
idea had crept into my mind about night, he gave me a drink of a
the raw meat. red liquid. didn't recognise its
I
taste or smell, but have a nasty

I
only saw Ennis once more;

I
I feeling that know what it was.
I
was out again, in my motor-boat Since then, can never bring

I
with Hartley. We were just coming myself to kill a spider. And I've
to the rock where we saw Ennis developed an unnatural craving
first, when Hartley said, "You for raw meat.
know Ennis yelled Ki zora nozak
when he was with us last time.
Well, it's Egyptian, and it means
will bring more meat What do .
you think he meant?"

That was when told Hartley I
the whole story (he had gone to his

own house when took Ennis I
home). Then the rock came into

view. Ennis was standing on it,
throwing pieces of flesh to . . .
something in the water. He threw

the last piece, and saw, all round I
the rock, sharks eating the flesh .
. flesh
. from the body of his
fourth wife.
THIINGS FROM THE
SEA
R'LYEH REVIEW
(continued from page 47)
be commended for giving only a

discreet back cover mention of
Bloch's earlier notoriety that most
publishers prefer to emblazon
across the front cover. It shows
an unusual respect for both the
"Help!" he shouted, as he saw author's talent and his readers'
my boat. "Get me off here!" tastes.
THE GRAVE
IN THE DESERT
Reynolds was walking in the ment behind him and a hand

desert when he found it. It was touched him on the shoulder. . . .
a grave. A mound of sand with He turned. A decaying body

a wooden cross on top if it. The was standing with both hands
sun was low in the west, and the stretched towards him. An echo-
cross cast a shadow over the sand. ing voice that seemed to come from
"I wonder whose grave it is?" he under ground said " Come
mused. "I wonder whethei Come guard my jewels !"
me!
He
He
was wondering if anything tried to run, but some invisible
valuable had been buried with the force was dragging him towards
body. That was the case some- the horrible Thing ... a sand
times, he knew. Cold or jewels, cloud blew into his eyes and he
maybe, or money in a box. He had staggered about blindly ...
he
cause to know, for he had robbed fell into the open grave and the
quite a few graves. soil closed over his head. . . .
He pulied the cross off the top The Thing stood by the grave.
and had a good look at it. Nothing Soon Reynolds would rise again
valuable about that, anyway. He and guard his jewels. He dug
began to dig at the mound with his himself a grave and lay down in
hands, for he was hardened. A it. Sand blew over the hole and
boy had once seen him digging up covered him. . . .
a grave, and Reynolds had tried The power of the Un-Dead is

to make him an apprentice, but the greater than we know. . . .
boy threatened to tell the police,

and so Reynolds had had to silence
him. (He'd put him in the place
occupied before by the original
body .
He worked for ten minutes . . .
and then uncovered a box. He

broke it open, and saw . . jew-
.
els! Emeralds,
rubies sparkled
and glistened in the setting sun;
a stone as big as a man's head
winked at him like a huge blue eye.
He stood looking at them, entranced
. . when he heard a slight move-
.
1*) / Crypt of Cthulhu
ACCIDENT
As Jim Organ reached a corner blackness of space, and then fell

of the lonely cliff road, he saw the through the Earth's atmosphere,
patch of oil that lay directly in his towards a large white building. In
path. The car skidded and crashed fact, a hospital.
into the railings. There was a "Where am I?" Organ groaned.
snap, and the car screamed over "In a hospital," said a doctor,
the edge. It fell forty feet. standing by his bed. "You've
Organ saw himself lying in the been almost dead for three days,
debris, a look of horror frozen on but I pulled you through."
his face. Then a luminous cloud Organ never told anyone why
floated down from the sky, and he he picked up a bottle of medicine
was gently but firmly urged into and hit the doctor over the head
the middle of it. Then it rose with it.
again; he saw the remains of the
car lying on a brown strip of road,
and the countryside spread out
around it; he stared at a tree that
had fallen across a road, just as
the cloud sped into the darkness
of outer space.
"Well, Mr. Organ," said Saint

Peter, "I have been through your
record, and Ihave decided that
you definitely belong here, in
Heaven. will take you to your
I
section of Heaven. Follow me."

Organ was taken to a beautiful gar-
den, a garden that surpassed all
earthly beauty. and left to do
whatever he wanted.
There is no such thing as Time
in Heaven, so Jim did not know how
long had passed since he had died.
But suddenly a black cloud came
down into his garden, he was
dragged towards it, and soon it
enveloped him. It leapt upwards;
once again he passed through the
I was sitting in a cafe reading a down the street, while they sang
paper, when the man came and sat something about the loyalty of pals.
down by me. He had been in the It didn't need a detective to tell
inn next door, so expected him I
where they'd been.
to be a little drunk, but he was
"He owned a small shop," the
cold sober. The wind was howling man continued, "and he offered to
outside like an animal in mortal let me go into partnership with
agony, and the rain had been pour-
him, as I was looking for a job.
ing down for at least half an hour.
"Did you ever have a really good
"Things went well for the first
few weeks, and then something
friend, one that never left your
side?" said the man.
cropped up that we didn't see eye
to eye about. wanted to do one
"A dog, you mean?" I sug-
I
thing, Frank wanted another. We

gested.
"A had a hell of a row, and he roared
human," he said, and re-
off home in a raging temper. The
lapsed into silence. The rain
poured, next morning learned that a
and there came a faint I
rumble of thunder. Somewhere out motor-car had knocked him down

the darkness a dog howled.
and killed him.
in A
teenage couple got up from their "The shop had been left to me
table, and went out into the teem- in his will, and did what wanted
I I
ing rain. about the affair mentioned. But I
had that night, as went home through

"I a good friend once," I
came the man's a field, Frank met me with a gun

voice. "His name
was Frank Frank Swann. met I
in his hand. He said Now we'll '
him one night at this cafe, and took always be together and shot me." '
a liking to him as soon as saw I

"But you're not dead!" I
him. Well, I'd seen him before at shouted. Getting no answer, I
shows and places like that, but this turned. . . . The chair next to
was the first time I'd spoken to me was empty.
him. I called a waiter. "Where did
A fiash of lightning lit up the the man go who was sitting here?"
scene outside. Two men were mak- "You've been alone all night,"
ing their way, rather unsteadily. he said.
Wife Betjirs; Cart
The wind shrieked louder out- every minute. will go and fetch
I
side the narrow window of the her.

highest room in the castle. Count "
Hysterical ?" repeated Count
Slavus, the Scandinavian lord, had Slavus. "You mean something has
before him the Great Book, the frightened her?"
Black Grimore. He was reading it "Something very evil. Lord,"
in pitch darkness, for it was the said Wulf in a hushed voice. "But
third section, the section written she will not tell me what it was . .
in luminous ink on black paper. . she said she would only tell you."
". take one eye
. . cut fresh,
from a black cat and place in the

, "I waswalking along the road
centre of the second pentacle then ; to the castle," began Martha when
stand in centre of first pentacle she had
recovered from her hyste-
and repeat incantation You should
. ria, "when saw a cart coming
I
then ..."
. along behind me. stepped out of I
A knocking on the door of the the road when

. saw the
. . I
castle room made him start, and horses that were pulling it."
nearly drop the precious book; he "What was wrong with them?"
pushed it inside an oak box and asked Count Slavus. Not that he
locked it. He called "Who's there?" wanted to know, but it seemed the
"It's me. Lord, only your loyal only thing to say.
Wulf!" came a voice. Slavus opened "Their eyes were like burning
the door. "Yes? What do you pits, and the horses had wings
want this time?" growing out of their backs! But
"'Tis Martha, the old peasant the d-driver the driver, he
. . .
woman, that would speak with you!" was a skeleton! His eyes were like
answered Wulf. Martha was the two openings into hell, and when he
worst nuisance, according to the saw me he cracked his whip and
Count, in Scandinavia. He had cried, To Slavus
'
Castle Let us !
taken steps to have her eliminated. take that servant the Evil One
"Oh, bring her up to me," said to Hell Oh, Lord, it is your
!
'
the Count. "I suppose must hear

I dabblings in black magic and satan-
her groans. Oh
have you any ism that have brought this doom
cats in the castle? Black cats upon your soul! For your own
preferably?" sake, repent while you can. Count
"I have none," answered Wulf. Slavus. Your end near ^ !
"But Martha gets more hysterical Count Slavus spat. "Interfering

footsteps came across the landing.

Then something crashed against the
door, as though a giant's fist was
pounding it. Then the lock gave
way; the door banged open, and
the afore-mentioned skeleton rushed
in. Without wavering he caught
Slavus round the throat with his
bony fingers and bore him off.
The legend says tliat, as the Count
was thrown iti the cart, a lightning
bolt hit it, and it disappeared com-
pletely.
A railway runs on the track
that used to lead to the castle;
and passengers on the midnight
train sometimes see two figures
glowing at the side of the track;
a man and a skeleton.
wretch of a peasant woman!" he

roared. "Meddling with things that
you do not understand! will I
teach you to keep your skinny

hands out of my affairs!" He called
out of the doorway, " Franz Karl " , !
!
Two guards stumped in through

the doorway. "Yes, Lord? What
is your wish?"
"
Throw this woman from the
window " !
shrieked the frenzied
Count.
"No! Have mercy on me!"
screamed Martha; but it didn't mat-
ter
two
how loud she screamed. The
men dragged her, screaming,
CART
fighting and pleading, to the win-
dow, and pushed her out. A hor-
rible shriek, followed by a dull
thud, resounded through the silent ASTRO-ADVENTURES #2
country.
A silence followed, only to be Yes, the intergalactic freighter
broken by the sound of horses' has just pulled in and unloaded
hooves on the drawbridge. Then a good stock of copies of Astro-
Slavus heard slow, heavy footsteps Adventures #2, which includes
coming up the staircase. "Corsairs of the Cosmos" by
"Who is it?" he called. " Who js Lin Carter, "The Other Place"
^?" There was no reply, except by Richard L. Tierney, "The
for an insane giggle. The footsteps Eyes of Thar" by Henry Kutt-
came nearer nearer
. . . . . . ner, plus satire, criticism,
nearer. . . . letters, and a Stephen E.
With a hysterical scream the Fabian cover! $9.50
Count rushed over to the door, and
slammed and double-locked it. The
Tem Bashish
Two brothers climbed Tem Basish, Their names were Tem and Basish,
The story said: and all their lives they had wanted
Two brothers climbed Tem Basish, to climb the mountain.
But one was dead. "It is a rule in Borak'esh that a
mountain has no name until someone
So ran the old rhyme. Tem has climbed to the top. So the two
Basish is a mountain, as you have brothers set out one day and said
guessed; and the rhyme is a kind 'As the mountain is unnamed, we
of warning to any unwary climber will climb it together, and reach
who might want to climb Tem Bash- the top at the same time, so shall
ish . the mountain be named Tem Basish.'
Iwas staying in the old village "So one brother climbed one
of Borak'esh, and as soon as saw I peak, and the other climbed the
Tem Basish felt the climber's
I other peak, and as had been
urge creeping over me. Once see I prophesied, they reached their
a mountain that haven't climbed
I I goals at the same time, so the
take its presence as a challenge mountain was named Tem Basish.
that must answer.
I "Now the brothers grew jealous
When first saw Tem Basish it
I over something, the legend does
was an awe-inspiring sight. Its not tell what. But the next time
twin peaks towered up towards the they climbed Tem Bashish, only one
sky, and in between the peaks the returned. That one was Tem. They
sun was setting, giving a blood-red searched for the other's body high
tint to the sky. resolved to askI and low, but they never found it.
the keeper of the inn where was I "Tem climbed the mountain alone
staying, to tell me
that he knew all a few days later, and he never
about Tem knew that
Basish. I returned. His pick was found in
some legend
the about
mountain the rock about half way up. His
was told in the village, and I body was found at the bottom of
wanted to know the whole story. the mountain. A clump of bushes
Unfortunately, none of the vil- had broken his fall, and the body
lagers knew English, but luckily I was still recognizable. He had
knew all the words, including un- not just fallen, he had been mur-
printable ones, in their language; dered .
so have written all speech trans-

I
"How on earth did you know
lated into English. that?" asked.
I
"Well," began the inn-keeper," "Because of the finger-marks

there were two brothers who lived round his throat, where he'd been
in Borak'esh about fifty years ago. choked to death," he answered.
However, did not scare me, this Being trapped in a cave one
and resolved to scale Tern Basish
I
hundred feet up, with nothing for
the next day, alone. collected my I company except a grinning skull,
tools, and started out for the is not a position recommended for
right-hand peak. retaining your sanity; but am I
At the bottom, as stared up I sure that they were real.

the rocky sides of Tern Basish, I They were dim, shadowy fig-
noticed something protruding from ures, that appeared at the cave
the rock. Then, giving it no more entrance. Echoing words floated
thought, started to climb.
I to me, as crouched shivering in
I
About half-way up saw what it I a corner of the cave. Words with

was. It was nothing more than a a sinister meaning, words that
pick. Then
was that remem- it I were not for mortals to hear: "I
bered what the old inn-keeper had will reach the peak then ^ can ,
"
told me They found his pick
. . . rest in peac e" 'H will hurl
. . .
about half-way up. " Of course, I you down from my mountain, then
thought that they had left it where
was
my spirit can rest " There ....
it as a sort of memorial,
. . . was the sound of fighting, curses;
maybe. never thought of theI
the etheral figures were struggling,
supernatural, for I did not then one was being forced nearer and
believe in ghosts. nearer to the edge. . . .
I could stand it no longer. I
screamed and ran towards the two

figures of Tern and Basish, who
had been dead for fifty long years.
They vanished and found myself I
falling down, down, down. . . .
Basish's skull still lies in the

cave where Tern had put it after
he had murdered his brother. Tern's
Then I hit an area of hard rock. pick has moved two-thirds of the
It tookme four hours to climb it, way up the mountain. But don't I
and by then the sun was setting. think it's fair; have to fight two
I
So Imade for a cave that lay near people while try to haunt this
I
me, like a gaping mouth. had I damn' mountain.

brought a torch, luckily, and when
I was into the cave shone I
it round.
That was when discovered that I
there was more than just rock in

the cave. There was more. Some-
thing much worse.
To be precise, a human skull.
,
The Whirlpool
Tom Bart, the man who had Dankworth's band, and Ray Mur-
murdered six people, waited by the phy, an amateur author. All rot-
whiripool in the woods for another ting away somewhere deep down in
victim. This whiripooi had claimed the whirlpool.
the bodies of aii his victims as soon Then he shut his eyes and
as he had taken everything that started to sink down in a humming
could be of any possible use to void. Somewhere in his mind
. . .
him. But it had been said to him, formed a bizarre pattern, and he
by an old man who he had met out dreamed.
in Egypt, "For some people seven He was in the middle of a huge ,
is a iucky number, but to you it featureless plain; it was lifeless,
will be unlucky." there was nobody there but himself .
He
waited a iong time in the Then he saw faces faces floating ,
woods, a very iong time. He fancied in the air they were all his vic-
;
footsteps that came through the tims . one, two

. . five six . . . ,
woods, but if he reaily heard them, seven ! Whose was the seventh
they remained as footsteps. Final- face ? It was vaguely familiar .
ly he tramped off home, feeling The mouths chanted in unison,

very disgruntied. "Come! Come with us!" He could
not resist he did not want
, r^-
As he
ciimbed into bed he sist
, so he followed the strange
thought of
aii his victims: John beings .
Kissane, middle-aged commercial

a The ground felt rough although ,
traveller; David McBryde, a young he knew was flat Then the .
gamekeeper; Sid Latham, a pork faces began to move faster and he ,
butcher; Eric Laird, a tourist; r^n after them. Once he trippedT

Mike Shea, a local trumpet-player but saved himself by catching hold
who had been thrown out of Johnny of something which wasn't there. . .
his head, he remembered who the

seventh face in his dream had be-
longed to.
It had been his own.
Suddenly he woke, and the full

horror of the situation was borne
in to him. In his sleep he...
had walked straight into the whirl-
pool! And as the water closed over
MAIL=CALL (continued from p. 52) Issue 47 of Crypt was one of the

best I've received for awhile. "The
it. It was a total scream. Cats Pool" was interesting, even apart
torture mice prior to eating them . from the actual story. The intro-
cosmically frightening?
. No. duction was almost like an original
So shoggoths
like humans to be Lovecraft story; a scholar receives
horrified same type of thing.
. . . an age-old yellowed manuscript. . .
At least Deep Ones you get

with . Seriously, the revision was well-
into espionage, mind exchange, written and contained a good deal
cloning. Deep Ones are intelligent of atmosphere. The climax built up
enemies. Shoggoths are dumb and to a (if not unexpected) satisfying
brutal like sharks.
. . . For cos- climax.
mic horror beyond anything HPL Lin Carter's "Behind the Mask"
wrote: read Bastienne's two stories succeeded in creating a pleasing
in Cthulhu Codex 1 and 2. j_f the story and it was enlightening to
plebeian mind can fathom what Bas- hear about the "hobbies" of the
tienne is saying, the plebeian will Miskatonic library staff!
be numbed with horror un- . . . "Soul Proprietor" by Robert
fortunately most plebeians will nev- Bloch proved to be probably the
er understand those two stories. best story in the issue (although I
How aboutshoggoths breeding did like "The Fantasy and Mystery

and then genetically infusing them Bookshop" by Peter H. Cannon).
into Patti so that she can ... or Bloch's style is obvious and the
have the shoggoth akin to virus "twists" at the end are always viv-
material or having half of a DNA id, mostly darkly humourous and
like AIDS has and an RNA . . . most of the time unexpected.
(memory etc.) infusing the
. . . Robert E. Howard's "The Mark
RNA gives Patti the memory of, of a Bloody Hand" made a nice
etc. Wagner says Shea is not play- change from the usual Mythos sto-
ing for laughs . . . the story was ries you print. Howard's work
funny. Tani Jantsang holds the reader and are always
Newquay, England (continued on page 40)
22 / Crypt of Cthuthu
THE WHISPERING HORROR
This is a story of the lengths her revenge.

that a woman may go to if her hus-
band is unfaithful. But this woman That night, as Victor got into
was different from other women, bed, he heard his wife muttering
for she had strange powers, and something outside his bedroom door.
knew things that it is not given He thought he heard another voice
to many to know. For instance, answer, but wasn't sure, so he
she could change. But this
. . . took no notice.
is not a list of all the things she She had certainly been mad at
could do, but the story of one him today, he thought. Oh well,
thing that she did. she'd get over it. His head
Even though she was not beau- touched the pillow and soon he was
tiful, she had married a man called asleep.
Victor Sloane. Her maiden name He woke up, with the feeling
(she was a foreigner) was Puol there was something in the room.
Eripmav. It was the middle of the night, and
But after three years of mar- it was pitch dark. It took him a
riage, he tired of her. There was few minutes to get used to the
a young woman in the next street, blackness, but when his eyes were
and soon he started to take her out in focus he saw a Thing lying on
any time he thought his wife the bed beside him.
wouldn't notice. If it was like any earthly crea-
Finally she found out, and she ture, it was like a spider; but it
resolved, in her white-hot fury, to had many more legs than a spider .
use her black-magic powers to get . . about twenty, in fact.

"
He tried scream, but the Hor-

to
ror wouldn't let him. A whispering
voice in his mind said, "If you
scream you will wake everybody in
the house. You wouldn't want to
do that, it wouldn't be right, would
it?"
must be going mad he thought ,
numbly. But when he heard the

next words of the Thing for . . .
he was sure that it was the Thing

that was speaking when he . . .
heard the next words of the Thing

he felt a dull edge of horror go
down his spine.
For the Thing was saying: "It
is nice to be dead. Why don't you
commit suicide?" But Victor did unconsciousness creeping over him.
not answer, he had fainted. The Thing knew that if Victor
When he came round it was only fainted, it would go hungry for
to hear the Horror's inexorable another night. That it could not
"It is good to be dead. Why don't bear. So it did the only thing that
you commit suicide?" it could think of to do; treacher-
And suddenly he knew he must. ous, of course, but the Thing had
With slow, heavy footsteps he no human feelings or emotions,
walked over to the window and except greed.
pushed up the sash; he stood on It told him the whole truth .
the ledge, poised himself. . . . It told him about his wife's pow-
Then, guite suddenly and with- ers, and her jealousy of the girl
out any warning, like a clarion on the next street; the jealousy
call, a cock crowed. The Horror that had made her try to kill him
gave a low cry of anger, and van- by the dreadful use of black magic.
ished as though it had never been. And he listened, and his face be-
Victor came out of his trance came grim and purposeful.
with a start. Where was he? What
Puol was standing before a mir-
on earth was he doing on the win-
ror, sharpening her nails, when the
dow-sill? One slip and he would
have plunged down to a horrible door opened and Victor entered. He
death. He pictured himself lying, moved towards her, his eyes were
glazed and staring.
like a broken doll, his head a
splash and "Your familiar came to me to-
of brains blood. He
thought about It in night," he said. "Somebody's go-
more detail,
ing to be killed tonight."
and was nearly sick.
"Oh?" she said sleepily. "Who?"
That
night, Puol was speaking "You," he said, putting his
to her
familiar. It was getting hands round her throat.
restlessand hungry. "I must feed
soon," it said, "and you know I
On the day of Victor Sloane's
can only eat somebody who has execution, they found him dead in
been killed by a human, or one his cell. Like his wife, his body
who has committed suicide. must had been gnawed in many
feed tonight places. When the warder entered
I
the cell, he thought he saw a huge

As before, Victor woke up only spider sliding through the window.
to find the Horror lying on the bed At the inquest, the verdict on
beside him. Also as before, the Victor was that he must have, for
Horror started to discourse on the some reason, decayed quicker than
happiness and marvels of being a other dead bodies.
dead soul, and once again he felt Only two people knew the truth.
.
But toldI him that was I
Frank's friend, and after muttering

Come at once, I am in a horri- something about "you will find him
ble trap. different" and blowing out a cloud
Frank that lingered in the air and insinu-
ated itself into my throat, he gave
That was all. Just ten words. me instructions that could just I
All that was in the letter that I barely follow.

read over a cup of coffee. am a I At saw the house. It was
last I
private psychic investigator, and partly hidden by clumps of trees

in my profession naturally get a
I that grew haphazardly around it,
large number of cranks, one or two but on the iron gate outside the
psychiatric patients and quite a few drive I read the letters, partly
practical jokes. But the writer of obliterated, "B AD OOR."
the letter was a personal friend of Above me the clouds ran across
mine; he was none of the things the purple sky in a macabre ballet.
I've mentioned, except possibly the I drove my sports car up the
latter. That was why I left every- drive. At the top alighted, then I
thing just as it was, and drove as walked into the old wooden porch
fast as I could to my friend's coun- and crashed the iron knocker
try home. against the door.
had to ask the way to his
I
Hesitating footsteps approached
home, which was called Bradmoor. the door. Then it opened. A man
The only person could find to ask
I
stood there; his eyes had dark
was an old man wiio was smoking a rings under them. said "Is Mr. I
clay pipe that was not a thing to Bardell in?"

go into ecstasies about. The fumes That was my friend's other
that came from it made me think name. It was my first shock that
twice about the methods that farm- night, as I felt a vague edge of
ers use to dispose of surplus pig horror trace itself down my spine.
swill. Something iike that must The man was Frank Bardell.
have been in that pipe.
Anyway, asked him how to
I
-II-
get to Bradmoor, and he said,
"Bradmoor? Ar, the man there be A roaring in the grate, the
fire
right snappy. Don't you go there, flames fanned by the wind howling
sir. Ar." And he blew out a down the chimney. Rain battered
cloud of dense smoke. against the window; and outside.
trees, vague, phantom figures,

like
were swept up and backwards by
the force of the gale. Frank and I
sat on either side of the hearth.

The vague edge of horror that I
had felt after meeting Frank that

night had not disappeared; on the
contrary, it had grown, for there
was something very evil about the
old house, and had a feeling a lot I
of it emantated [sic) from Frank

himself. However, hid my feelings I
as best could, and finally asked

I
Frank: "Is this trap that you . . .
mentioned supernatural one?" a

He looked into the fire, seeming
to see something there, something
more than the leaping flames. His
eyes swivelled towards me, and he
said, "I don't know what it is. I
BRADMOOR
only know that it is here now, and you! I'll put you up in the bed-
I'm afraid of it."
room next to mine."
"Have you ever heard anything? "By the way," said, "are you
Seen anything? Felt anything?"
I
sure there's nothing more to tell?

"I've been hearing something Nothing that could be connected
moving about for a few weeks even remotely with the haunting?
now," he answered. "First I
Did anyone ever swear that after
started to hear something bumping death they'd return to haunt you,
down the old disused stairway . . .
or anything like that?"
there is one, it leads to the cellar "No, never," he said. Then,
. but when
. investigated, I I
suddenly, he turned towards the
saw that nothing lit up the stairs, window. Rain still battered against
so Icouldn't see anything. it. The trees still twisted them-
"Then started hearing the
I
selves into weird shapes, but they
voices. never heard the words
I
were not the only things that Frank
they said, but knew that they I
Bardell saw out in the darkness.
were voices ... of men and wom- He fell back in his chair with a
en, it sounded like a whole crowd gurgle of terror. ran to the
I
of them." window, but all I could see were

"I see," said. "And what do
I
trees in bizarre shapes. Then,
you expect
He thought
^
to do about it?"
was joking at first,
for an instant, I thought saw aI
I
man standing in the grounds; he
but after going ha-ha and seeing was naked, and there was some-
that still looked as serious as be-
I
thing else about him that could I
fore, he stuttered, "Y-you are a not place. Then I turned to Frank,

psy-psychic investigator, aren't and when I looked back the figure
you?" had gone.
"I am," said. "But Ican re- I
fuse my services, can't I? You -III-

know, '
the company reserves the
right ,'and all that. And I'd like The wind howled and rattled
to keep out of this affair. On the window of the bedroom. lay I
second thoughts, though I'd like to awake in bed and listened for . .
stay the night here, and when the . any sounds that might be foot-
noises start. I'll go and investigate. steps and voices. But nothing
If you don't mind, that is."
came except the wind and rain.
"Of cours e don't mind!" he ex- "Heard anything
I
yet?" came
claimed. "That's why I wrote to Frank's voice through the cornnect-
.
ing doorway. isn't the cellar that I saw when 1
"No, not yet," called back. I came down the stairs last. Where
"Neither have I." on earth are we?"
The hooting of an owl came from Then remembered something
I
somewhere outside. The window that had meant to ask him.

I
I
rattled, and then and then . . . said, "What did you see in the
there came the slam of a door some- garden last night that frightened
where downstairs. Leaping out of you so badly? saw a naked man."I
bed, hesitated briefly to grab my

I "So did I," he answered, "but
gun, loaded with silver bullets, and there's something. Look, . . .
yell "Come on! it's here!" to Frank, we're going to be here for quite a
then started off across the land-
I long time, by the looks of things,
ing . so do you mind if bore you with I
The staircase was dark, pitch a story?"

dark, so I had to hold the banister "Not at all," said. "Co ahead I
until got my torch out, wasting

I and bore me."
precious minutes. But ran as I "Well, in my first year at col-
fast as could, the torch's light
I lege," he began, "(I was at Cam-
wavering through the darkness. brige, you know) found myself I
Frank was close on my heels. short of money and needed ten ,

I
Now could hear the sound of

I pounds to pay off an urgent debt.
voices and
footsteps clearly. We "I scouted round the college,
burst into the kitchen, for that was and finally met a student, who
where the top of the disused stair- called himself de Ville. He said he
case was located. was willing to give me the ten
The opening to the staircase pounds, on condition that did I
gazed at us like a hollow eye-socket something for him.

shone the torch down said, What is it?'
'
of a skull. I "Of course, I
the steps, but it was a winding whereupon he produced a scrap of

stairway, and saw nothing more I paper and a pen, and wrote some-
than a wall. So started down I thing on the paper. Then he
the stairs. Frank was still on my passed them to me. 'There,' he
tail said, 'sign that.'
The voices had stopped, except "It was quite simple; seven
for one, voice. a high-pitched words, but oh Cod, the terrible
Down and down the stairs we went, meaning of those words.
and the high-pitched voice yam- "It said: I sell my soul for ten
mered on and on. We started run- pounds .
ning faster and faster. And . . . "I looked at the paper, then at
then, quite unexpectedly the stairs de Ville. read the paper again,
I
finished. There was nothing more then turned it over to make sure I
except a ten foot drop. pitched I hadn't missed anything. felt de I
forward into space. A last glance Ville's eyes on me he had ...

back showed me that Frank, too, coal-black eyes, you know . . .
had been unable to stop. Then I then he said 'Well? Will you sign
hit the ground and spun into obit?'
livion. . . . "I looked at it again, and at the

two five-pound notes that he held
-IV- ready in his hand, then picked I
up the paper and pen and signed

When came round found that I I it, and gave it to him, receiving
my arms and legs were chained to the money in exchange.
the floor. Twisting my head, saw I "That, thought, was the end
I
Frank in a similar plight. He, too, of it. But now I'm not so sure.
was conscious. That man that we both saw in the
"Is this a ceilar?" asked him. I garden is de Ville! have a hor- I
"I can't make head or tail of it," rible feeling about this."
he said, obviously shaken. "This must have been pale;
I know I I
and me. We started for the stairs

. . . when a wall of flame rose up
before us. But said "Quick! I
Follow me!" to Frank, and ran

straight for the fire, and saying
the Lord's Prayer as loud as I
could, while ran. I
The flames hissed and went out.

But their place, sitting on the
in
floor not a foot from me, was a
huge toad. say it was a toad, I
for that is the creature it resem-

bled most, but in reality it was not
like any creature that lived on the
earth. It passed its tongue across
its lips, if they were lips, and
stared at Frank and me with un-
blinking, lidless eyes. It had a
slimy skin that had decomposed in
parts, revealing the raw red flesh
beneath. have never seen any-
I
thing more filthy or obscene than

that Thing.
To
reach the stairs, we had to
felt ghastly. Now knew why I I pass the Thing. Wondering if it
felt that vague horror when had I was invulnerable, fired the gun I
met him, and now knew where the

I with the silver bullets at it. There
evil that emanated from him had its was a dull plop as the bullet
source. It was because Frank struck. But the Thing just looked
Bardell had no soul ! at it, languidly picked it out with
a front paw, spat on it, and
-V- pitched it back at me. Then it
laughed a ...
harsh, grating
"Is there no way I can regain laugh, that echoed through the
my soul?" he shrieked in horror. great hall.
"There are two," said. "You I The Lord's Prayer resounded in
can confess what you have done, the hall as advanced, hands out-
I
to a Roman Catholic priest, then stretched, towards the Thing. When

somehow get hold of the document my hands were nearly touching the
that you signed and burn it in the Thing's face, it gave a scream of
presence of the same priest." terror and vanished. We kept on
He didn't take to that one, so I towards the stairs, when suddenly
told him the other. "You have to a low, pleasant, persuasive voice
gel hold of the sum of money . . . called "Do you want that document?
ten pounds, in your case . . . and I have it here; come and take it
sit with it, in a pentacle, repeating back .
over and over 'I buy back my soul I gasped out "Don't look, Frank!
for ten pounds.'" Then gloomily, He's trying to trap you! Don't
"if we ever get out of here, that look his eyes!"
at But it was too
is
.
late; Frank was walking towards a
"Look!"
he said, feeling in his figure that recognised as de Ville,
I
pocket. "A file! was going to I the naked man who had been in the
file the lock off a cupboard door grounds of Bradmoor, and also I
that had stuck, but never I saw what had been wrong with him;
thought it would come in this use- he didn't cast a shadow .
ful!" He bent down and began to There is a word that will over-
file away frantically. come all evil; it is not known to
Soon he had freed both himself many, but luckily am one of the I
"
the house stayed silent. We went

to bed and locked all the doors be-
hind us.
-VI-
The next morning I went down

to the village to buy some chalk,
ignoring the urgent beseechings of
Frank that if he left the house
de Ville would probably destroy it,
and if he didn't de Ville would kill
him; but assured him that no evil
I
thing, even de Ville, would have

power in the daytime. So, finally,
and after much argument, he let
me go.
When returned
I found him I
lying on a settee, with his face

white as a corpse's. When asked I
him what the matter was, he an-

few. One of the many queer, psy- swered, "I've been trying to say
chic people that met I in my
job, the Lord's Prayer for about half-
was a Magister Templi; in fact, an an-hour, but can't do it!
I Listen:
Ipsimuss (sic). He told me in strict "'
Our Father who art in ,
.'" . .
confidence, the Word; in case I But further than that he could not
should meet anything really evil. go. For the first time felt pity I
It has five syllables, and it fell rather than revulsion for this man
through my lips like a liquid who had no soul.
stream. cannot divulge the Word.
I "The part find most horrible,"
I
For a minute a blue light seemed said Frank, "is that can say it I
to flicker round my fingers, then it backwards! Has that does it . . .
started to extend towards de Ville. make it any worse?" By my ex-

He saw it, and with a thwarted pression he saw that it did. Again,
scream, he disappeared. I must have looked ghastly. The
Frank came out of his trance Lord's Prayer spoken backwards,
with a start, and we ran for the the worst denial of the belief in
stairs. We had only covered about Cod that a man can give. De Ville
twenty steps, when we came into a had certainly had his way with t his
cellar. Now we knew why Frank man's soul, though, of course,
had not known of the existence of Frank may have been laid open to
the place under his house. Hell, for I did not, then or now,
Then Frank whispered: " Listen !
know what kind of thing he may
But he had not needed to tell me; have practiced in later life.
I could hear as well as he could. A "I can see that it does," he said
sound like a wet rag being dragged brokenly. "But anyway, have you
up the steps, and a cackling laugh got the thing that you went oul
floated up to us. saw a dark
I for?"
shape on the stairs, coming quick- "I have," I answered. "But we
ly upwards and leaving a trail of must wait until tonight. ." . .
green slime in its wake. The thing Then, suddenly, a horrible realisa-
looked like a rotting toad, maybe tion struck me. ran to a calen- I
the same thing that had tried to

I
dar that was tacked on the wall,
banish. This time used the Word,
I and looked up the date. Then, to
and it dissolved in a flash of flame. be sure, found it in my diary.
I
All that was left was a pool It was true. Both gave the same
of green slime. date, and the dreadful truth broke
Nothing more followed us, and in upon me.
Tonight was Walpurqis Night !
-VII-
I stood stock still, not moving

an eyelid as realised the truth.
I
Tonight was Walpurgis Night, the

night of the year when, according
to old grimores and legends, every-
thing evil was let loose to roam the
earth and do as it pleased. And I
knew what that meant. It would be

the best night for Frank to regain
his soul, but all evil would be let
free to fight him. It would be ab-
normally easy, however, for Frank
to reach his soul, for, according to
popular belief, all unattached souls
were also let from their prison to
walk in the world. All this told
I
to Frank, and his face grew into

a mask of worry.
"I'll carry the ritual through,"
he said finally. "You admitted that
tonight is the night when I'm most
likely to regain my soul, and noth-
ing you say will keep me from
practicing the ceremony." though itwas decayed and bloated
"Very well," said I. "And as I with evil. No, it was not just the
have enough equipment to construct face. Straight above the pointed
two pentacles, will stay this night
I ears were two horns, growing out
with you. But tomorrow, whether and up, , . .
or not your soul has regained its The sheer horror of the thing,
body, I will leave Bradmoor, and the blatant revelation, was just too
nothing that you say will prevent much for Frank. This time he
me from doing so. And I should didn't even gurgle, but keeled over
advise you to do likewise; if you and slumped to the floor,
do leave, or stay for that matter, I went to get some water to
promise me that you will have that bring him round. As crossed the I
stairway walled up. If you do not hall with a cup of water, heard I
promise, I will destroy all the the window open stealthily in the
equipment that have brought,
I room where Frank lay.
and then you will not regain your I moved towards the door. There
soul. Do you promise?" was the sound of something climb-
"I promise," he said, and I ing through the window, and the
could see that he meant it. "By thump of something falling on the
the name of ... by the name. . floor. Then there was another
.
." But he could say no more. sound of falling, but this time it
But he knew that it would be in sounded soft like a wet rag.
. . .
his interests to promise. I pushed open the door and

Then I saw something that made entered. The door made no sound.
my blood run cold. Pressed against I saw de Ville standing by Frank's
the window, so hard that it looked unconscious body, and saw some-
like a flat mask, was a face. I thing else behind him.
didn't need a second look to see It was ...can't find anyI
that it was that of de Ville. But creature to resemble it in this

what made my hair stand on end world, unless it was a jellyfish.
was not the face itself, even But a jellyfish hasn't got legs, and
"Now," asked him, "have you

I
got ten pounds on you?"

He investigated, then gave an
affirmative answer, brandishing the
money under my nose as he did so.
"All right," said. "Now here's I
what you'll have to do. You must

take that money and sit with it in
the pentacle all night. When any-
thing comes, as it definitely will,
you must show it the money and
tell it that you want to buy back
your soul. Now, is that clear?"
He assured me that it was, just
as the sun sank below the horizon.
We went to our respective penta-
cles, and I heard Frank frantically
a jellyfish hasn't got an eye that trying to say the Lord's Prayer.
protrudes
a stalk.
up out of the centre on It's
thought.
going a long night ^ , I
De Ville stood back, and mut-

tered some strange words. am I -VIII-
not an Ipsissimus, so did not I
know what they denoted. But it Have you ever been in a penta-
was clear that they were some sort cle on Walpurgis night? Believe
of order to the Thing, for it began me, it's not a thing to be experi-
to move toward Frank. enced by anyone with a nervous
Still moving silently, I went over temperament. have never been I
to the table, on which stood a flask the same since that night at Brad-
of Holy Water. The Thing was in- moor; in fact, would probably not I
tent on Frank, and de Ville had his be here now, writing this account,
back to me. unscrewed the top,
I but for Divine intervention that
and threw the Holy Water over the saved me from a ghastly fate at the
Thing. hands of the Devil's priests, or
The effect was instantaneous. something worse.
The Thing dissolved in a shower of It was a stormy night. Thunder
glittering atoms, and the flask of rumbled across the moors and lost
Holy Water was empty. But had I itself in the hills beyond. Dogs
not got rid of de Ville. He turned howled, owls hooted and a bittern
to me, and screamed; "I curse boomed somewhere out on the
you in the name of .!" But he
. . marshes. Frank was muttering "I
got no further. always carry a
I buy back my soul for ten pounds
small gold crucifix with me in my . . buy back my soul for ten
. I
.
pocket, and had pulled it out in

I pounds . .
. . . .
J^.
the space of a second and thrown Then it started. I started to
it his evil, decayed face.
at He fancy whispers in the roon., whis-
gave a horrible scream and van- pers that said obscene things,
ished in a curl of smoke. For a whispers that were trying to per-
minute saw something else, some-
I
suade me to do obscene things too.
thing indescribably obscene, then But shut my eyes and visualized
I
the room was empty except for the Christ on the Cross, and the whis-
inert Frank and me. Outside, pers died away and stopped alto-
across the wild moorland, heard I gether.
the yelping of a dog. Otherwise, Apparently the whispers con-
the place was silent. Frank groaned tinued for Frank, for he was not
and tried to get up. helped him I saying anything about his soul, but
over to the settee, where he rested something very different. But
while constructed two pentacles.
I as he had no soul, obscenity
had no meaning for him, and he what worrying me."

is
had no resistance against it. It had gone dark again, when
I shouted, "Frank, shut up ! suddenly something crashed through
Remember your soul " At this, he !
the window. could hear its pant- I
relapsed into silence, but finally ing and growling, a sound that
broke out again with the formula I made my blood run cold. But all I
had told him to repeat. could see was a vague intensifying

There was a humming in the air. of the darkness, and two red eyes
Suddenly without warning, there that seemed to glow. The fiery
came a sound of laughing. It vi- glow came back and the Beast was
brated in the air, a slow rhymitical illuminated. have never seen one I
[sic] laughter. It sounded like a since, and do not want to. But
I I
chorus of lunatics, invisible ones knew instinctively what it was. It

at that. It was horrible. Frank's was a chien du feu, a Hound of
face had gone pale; a stream of Hell !
saliva ran from the corner of his put back its head and bayed,
It
mouth. He started to try to get then giared at me balefully. As it

out of the pentacle, but something did again,
this picked up one of I
held him back. the of Holy Water and threw

flasks
This time said the Word.
I The it down the Hound's throat.
laughter became shrieks and died Once again the powers of Good
away. Frank wiped his forehead triumphed over those of Evil. The
and tried to look as if he was not Thing dissolved, but Frank's voice
scared. But he was; so was I. shouted "John! Look out! It's be-
I thought saw the jellyfish in
I hind you! Look out!"
a corner, but after a minute it dis- turned.
I There was nothing
appeared. Then, quite suddenly, behind me, but heard a stealthy I
the electric light, which had been movement in the spot that had I
switched on, dimmed and went out. been facing a moment before. Whip-
A hot wind blew at my face, and ping round, saw a purple face I
something sqealed (sic). Three floating in the air just outside. The
loud knocks came from the window, Word got rid of it, however.
and as the Thing squealed louder, "Who was that shouting?" came
the window started to open. Frank's voice.
The darkness was lit again, but "Wasn't it you?" asked. I
not by electric light. It came from "No," he said. "It was another
the window, and it was the light of of the Things that hunt me, no
flames. At first thought that the
I doubt. If they can imitate my
house was on fire, but then saw I voice, who can tell what more they
that had been mistaken. For this
I may do?"
was not true fire, but ethereal There was a ghastly scream
fire, and in the centre was a from behind Frank. He jumped up
many-faceted jewel, that seemed to . . and knocked over one of the
.
writite in agony, and knew thatI cruets of Holy Water. . . .
it was Frank's soul, trying to The face of de Ville materialised

return to its body. But then a in the air, and swiftly his naked
iiand, a fleshless skeleton hand, body A green
produced itself.
came through the flames, and took glowing figure of horror appeared
the soul through the fire, back on the other side of the pentacle.
to the empty beyond where the It had no face. A snake was sud-
souls of the damned howl forever. denly curling around Frank's body,
And Iheard Frank give a and above him a skeleton hand,
suppressed sob of agony as the holding a glowing knife, material-
Hand took his soul. ized. The horrors converged on
"Keep going!" encouraged him.
I him. . . .
"Walpurgis night has only just Suddenly darkness descended

started." on my mind, and I knew no
"I know," he answered. "That's more.
wolf, the teeth dripping with blood

and saliva. He moved forward,
toward the altar upon which lay his
prey, a girl who probably knew
nothing at all about Black Magic
and Satanism. If she had known
about It, she could have protected
herself.
I strove to put a barrier of
Divine protection around her. "Oh
God, don't let her die. She is so
young, so beautiful." And almost
immediately a huge white dove flew
down and alighted on the altar.
Putting its wings around her, it
vanished through the wall. A vul-
ture glowing with an eerie red
light, appeared to follow the dove,
-IX- only to be struck down by a fork
of white lightning.
I was a jewel, floating in a hum- The darkness began to disperse;
ming had no feelings or
void. I the inner light started to fade.
emotions; could not speak, only
I My soul was quite inexplicably,
think. told myself, quite unemo-
I returning to my body.
tionally, that was dead. I Then had a feeling that, in
I
found that
I could project my- I the void, was not alone. A voice
I
"
self to any spot, faster than the echoed in my mind. You have
speed of light. projected myself, I done as much as you could As a .
quite unhurt, to Bradmoor's cellar. reward ,

you will not die yet . The
Then knew the truth. The voices.
I night js finished and you , will
The footsteps down the disused return to your body ..." .
stairway. The fact that tonight was in the pentacle, and

I the
was Walpurgis night. sun was just rising. My eyes
Bradmoor was the place where . raked round the room and . . .
unknown to Frank , The Grand then froze,

I as saw the other I
Sabbat was held ! pentacle.

The footsteps and other noises A small pile of ash lay just in-
had the witches and Devil's
been
priests taking the equipment for
the Black Mass to the meeting-
place. And they knew that Frank
had sold his soul, and would not
be able to use the Powers of Good
to help him. But they had not
realised that he might write to a
friend who knew how to disperse
Evil. Even so, had not saved I
him, and could not do so now,

I
for was dead.

I
The witches in the place under

Bradmoor had a girl on the altar,
and they were going to sacrifice
her to some filthy god that they
worshipped. could see a Thing I
near the altar; it was the figure of

an man, clad in black robes
old
that were covered in Satanic sym-
bols, but his head was that of a
side it, which could result

like that but can guess.
I think he should
I
from pound notes being exposed to have been named Le Noir for his
the fires of Hell. Frank lay on his short stay on earth, or maybe
back in the middle of the pentacle. Natas.
There was no wound or mark on think that, even though the
I
him. But he was dead! powers of Good are on our side,

when we go near anything or any-
-X- body evil, we should be careful.
Corruption's claws can sink deep
There was an inquest, of into human flesh.
course. But the verdict was As for me, am I a bank clerk.
"Death by natural causes," and I It is a boring job,
but at least I
gave none of the evidence that is am from de Ville.

relatively safe
written here. They would only have I never laid another ghost, except
said was crazy, anyway.
I
that of The Tower, of which you
And de Ville? Nobody knows. will learn if you read on.
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HYBRID
Tom
Dickson stood quite still, "It strikes me," said the psychi-
amazed at what he saw, lying in atrist curtly, "that you're making
the middle of that barren place. It altogether too much of this dream.
was a man, naked except for a After all, what can a dream, how-
cloth which covered his head and ever horrible, do to you?"
face. "You try it, sometime!" shouted
Then a numbing horror began to Dickson, leaping out of his chair.
creep into his mind. The hands "It's driving me mad!" He smashed
were long and the nails were long his fist down on the psychiatrist's
and pointed. That was disgusting desk, making the inkwell jump into
enough, but the thing that horri- the air and getting a splash of ink
fied him was that the hands were in his eye for his troubles. Wiping
dripping with blood ! his eye, he continued, "Can't you
The Thing began to crawl to- do anything for me?" in a somewhat
wards him. It made a motion of subdued tone of voice.
throwing away the cloth, and he "My advice," said the psychia-
screamed. "No!" he cried. "You trist, go for a few weeks in
"is to
won't make me see the face! I'll Cornwall," while he frantically en-
shut my eyes!" But he couldn't. deavoured to mop ink off his once-
They seemed to be stuck open. The shining desk.
Thing crawled nearer, and half- "Thanks," said Dickson. "Maybe
dropped the cloth, revealing a I will. In fact, I will !"
pointed muzzle, and red eyes that
seemed to bore into his eyes. . . . You can easily lose yourself in
He could not escape, the Thing was Cornwall, if you're not careful to
hypnotising him. . . . note your surroundings. Dickson
found that out when he lost himself
"You
say you are in a barren there on the first day of his "rest
rock desert, the only landmark be- cure.
ing a rock that resembles a hand He had been walking along the
pointing up into the sky?" said the rocky coast, when it happened.
psychiatrist. The red mist that he had noticed
"Yes, that's right," said Tom gathering over the sea was, quite
Dickson, "but the inexplicable part swiftly, extending smoky tentacles
of it is that, even though I'm in a across the water and curled round
place that seems to be, even though him. . Very soon the only thing
. .
it's impossible, a desert, can I

in sight was a flat wall of pink
hear the sound of the sea, quite mist. Dickson did not think of the
near me too! What do you make of strange colour at the time. He
it?" looked at his watch: six o'clock.
.
The sun would set soon. There

was a faint copper-coloured disc
floating in the sky, but it was
sinking
Before long it had disappeared.
He walked along through the night,
and before long he found that he
must lie down, he was so tired.
The mist began to disperse as he
lay down on the dew-covered grass.
Waking up, he found the mist
had completely disappeared. He
took stock of his surroundings;
the place looked like a rock desert.
The only landmark was a rock that
resembled a pointing finger.
A movement behind him made him
turn. A man stood there. He was
young and very dark with green
eyes. His canine teeth were pointed Lupus's house. Lupus had said he
and extremely long. His voice was was going to "get some food." As
soft and purring, like the low he sat before a fire in the lounge,
growling of a dog. "Lost your reading To the Devil A Daughter ,
way?" he asked Dickson. a book from Lupus's shelf, a slow

"Yes, have, as a matter of
I realisation crept over him, and he
fact," Dickson answered. "Do you began to feel afraid. The place
know the Planet Hotel?" where Lupus had met him was the
"I do," said the green-eyed scene in his dream!
young man. "But I don't think He ran along the shore to the
you'll be able to get there till to- rocks. Yes, there it was, exactly
morrow. The road between It and as It had been in his dream, except
here has been flooded. would be I that there was no naked body lying
honoured if you would consent to inert on the rocks. ... He felt a
stay the night at my house. It is touch on his shoulder.
only a few hundred yards down the He turned. A naked man with a
shore. Come! Let us go!" wolf's head stood there.
"What is your name?" Dickson A voice said, "Now I've got
panted as he ran after the young food." Itwas Lupus's voice.
man, who seemed to run like a As the Thing tore his throat
wolf. out, he realised in his last moments
"Call me Lupus " called back ! why Lupus did not use silver
the young man, over his shoulder. knives.
Lupus's home was a small house
on the edge of a cliff. As Lupus
was just eating his meal Dick- . . .
son did not know which meal, he

had no notion what time it was, but
he thought it was breakfast . . .
as Lupus was just eating his meal,

he invited Dickson to join him.
But Dickson found it almost impos-
siple to eat a pork shop with an
all-wood knife and fork.
Late thatafternoon, just before

sunset, Dickson was alone in
- .
The Tower
-PROLOGUE red, sunken eyes. He had a cruel

mouth, with thin bloodless lips that
As a monument to anyone, it seemed to be permanently set in a
was very impressive. As a monu- sneer. The caption informed them
ment to Franz Asta, it was impres- that "this man is Franz Asta, a
sive, but there was some aura of count of the sixteenth century. He
evil about it that brought into the is reputed to have practiced sor-
mind thoughts of suicides falling cery in the Tower, named after
from the roof and splattering, dolls him, outside this town. Many peo-
of red pulp, at the bottom. Look- ple were invited to the Tower, his
ing up at the tower, Reynard knew permanent residence, and some of
of the Tower's bad reputation, and their bodies were found in the
even though it was a hot day, he moat, which dried up in the long
shivered. The ancient maxim said. past, but there were two small
What goes up must come down but , holes in their throats where the
apparently scientific laws did not life-blood had been sucked out of
apply to the Asta Tower, for many their bodies." This was in Ger-
people had gone up the stairway man, but has been translated for
into the Tower and most of them the benefit of my listeners and
had not returned. readers
Reynard, a college student, was Reynard was ascending the
to sleep the night
out in the shadowy stairs. Outside, some
Tower, for when two
of his student weird animal gave a sobbing cry.
friends had heard of its evil Fog was stretching smoky tentacles
reputation, they told him that they through the gaping holes of vi/in-
were willing to bet twenty pounds dows.
on the fact that he would not sleep
in the Asta Tower. With a Reynard lay on a bench in the
student's usual recklessness about darkness. Suddenly a cold wet
such things, Reynard had taken hand brushed across his face. He
on the bet, and now he scanned screamed and then he felt a
. . .
his night's lodgings, the Tower. kiss, not on his lips, but on his
When he had been in the local throat . . . his throat felt numb,
museum with his friends, they had he couldn't breathe and the . . .
seen a portrait, captioned under hand was laid on his mouth, so that
a glass case. The portrait showed he couldn't scream. . . .
a man with high cheek-bones and His student friends came for him
the next morning and found him

dead. All the blood had been drunk
through two holes in his throat,
and there were marks around his
mouth that showed that a hand had
been held across his mouth. The
two students, horrified and broken
at what they had done, ran all the
way to the nearest police-station,
leaving behind them a small wooden
whistle, with Latin words engraved
on its side, clutched in Reynard's
dead hand.
* * *
read about the Tower Mystery

I
in one of the foreign journals. It

was a topic of conversation there -I-
for a month. Then they started
talking about a woman who had. . Mist was creeping over the land
. .But am not here to tell you
I by the time reached the Tower.
I
sordid News of the World cases. I It was like a [jointing finger, a

investigate psychic cases, not cases stairway to Heaven ... or to Hell.
of that kind. wouldn't want to. I . There was indeed an aura about it,
. . Oh well, it's too late now any- there seemed to be something
way. watching from the Tower. An in-
As was going to say, the
I visible Thing waited in the tower
whistle had been in Reynard's
that for prey to come blindly into its
hand when they found him, had not clutching claws.
been buried with him. Unfortunate- A bird alighted on the towering
ly, it had been left in the morgue, battlements. Birds do not usually
and when the police came to take it frighten me, but this was the filth-
as an item in the inquest, it had iest of all gnawers of carrion . . .
gone. Whether some thief with an a vulture. A wet hand was tracing
eye for strange loot had taken it, its way down my spine when the
or whether its owner had returned vulture, giving vent to that horri-
for it, was not possible to say. ble cry that is so often heard near
But it had certainly gone. dead bodies in this country, dis-
As am a psychic investigator,
I appeared through a gaping window-
as you learned in Bradmoor knew , I hole. walked back to my car,
I
at once that the Terror of the Afka feeling that this was the most evil
Tower was none other than that place that would come up against.
I
most terrifying of all denizens of Then, my mind reminding me of

darkness, a vampire. have never I Bradmoor, improvised on the
I
met a vampire in combat before, second worst.

and can assure you that
I do not I Starting up the engine, found I
wish ever to do so again. There is that it had inexplicably stopped

a spiritual, as well as a mortal completely. After an hour of pull-
danger from were-bats. ing out every component and gaz-
And the whistle? you ask. What ing at it as though expected it I
has that to do with vampires? Those to change into a worm, then put-
of you who have read M. R. James' ting them back in a convenient
story, which deals with a whistle, place, found that the car still
I
may have some idea. Those who stayed as inert as ever. Finally
never heard of M. R. James, read I decided to go to the nearest vil-
on, while the shadows move and lage to fetch helpers.
weird night noises assail your ears. The hand of night was creeping
.
over the country as started off I green and the other had been red.
across the misty fields. Little It may not sound beautiful when it
droplets of moisture hung in spi- is described in words, but . . .
ders' webs; and as thought of 1 at any rate to me .it had an . .
spiders, a cold shiver went down unearthly beauty; and knew that, I
my spine. Spiders were too much whatever repercussions might re-

related to the vampires, in my sult, must leave the safety of the
I
mind car to get a closer look at this

The mist was growing thicker all unnatural phenomenon.
the time as walked through the I Islammed the door behind me
long grass. The grass seemed to and felt my way for the first few
cling to me, like thin slimy tenta- feet. Very quickly reached the I
cles of an octopus. looked back I moat, and stood staring into the
at the Tower once; it still stood, a luminous depths. But before long I
pointing finger, silhouetted against felt rather than heard a commanding

the darkling sky; but there seemed voice; a voice that ordered me to
to be a luminosity about it, a go into the Tower, to ascend the
strange red glow, lighting it up. winding stairs to the highest room;
It was eerie, all right, but had I a voice of a supernatural Thing, a
no time to bother about the Asta command that could not be dis-
Tower. My car's plight was more obeyed. And as heard that Voice's I
than enough. So turned my back I call, the green water faded and
on it, and kept on across the mist- was gone; but the red light around
covered field. As a scream came the Tower appeared again. The
from above me, shivered, but it I Voice called again; walked into I
was a vulture, maybe the one had I the dried-up moat, through the
seen at the Tower. threw a stone I doorway and up the steps. . . .
at it, and with another cry, it Up. Up. Up. Higher and
flew off and disappeared into the higher went, at every step hear-
I
mist. ing the Voice ordering me to go to

On and on through the dark the highest room. And, powerless
night walked, until at last
I saw I to disobey its command, climbed, I
a car in front of me. Then looked 1 unaware till afterwards of the ach-
to the left, and knew. The car ing of my legs, of the trickle of
was my own. red blood down my arm where had I
was lost!
I cut it on a protruding window-
ledge.
-II- The door of the topmost room
stood open, waiting for me to en-
As soon as the realisation came ter. entered, and as soon as
I I
to me, knew it would be no good

I was beyond the door, some invisible
tiring myself out, and went to the I agency shut it. looked up and I
car and lay on the front seat. Very saw It.

soon was asleep.
I
It was the figure of a man, a
I remember what
can't dreamed I man with red, sunken eyes, a
about, except that it was very un- sneering mouth and high cheek-
pleasant. woke up screaming. I bones. He was holding a small red
When saw where I was, it took me I book, and as came through iheI
a few minutes to discover how got I door he picked up a quill and wrote
there. Closed doors opened in my something in the book. Then he
mind, and remembered. looked
1 I waved his hand at me and a few
toward the Tower. . . . Latin words seemed to burn them-
The moat was filled. selves into my brain; suddenly I
Filled with green-yellow water felt numb and found couldn't even I
that up the night with an eerie

lit move an eyelid, so extensive was
glow. It was like the glow had I the paralysis.
seen emanating from the Tower a Then I knew that I was up
few hours ago, except that this was against the roving spirit of Franz
Asia, Black Magician and

vampire-
raiser. And as saw his hand go I
into his robe and put something to

his lips, knew also that he would
I
consider me to be a victim, and call

up his familiars to kill me ... to
make me into one of that ghastly
league, the Vampires, the Un-Dead.
He blew the whistle.

The door opened, to admit a
Thing, a Thing of horror, a man;
it was dressed in a dark green
robe, it had a twisted, dead-white
face and most horrible of all
. . . .
. . where its hands should have

been, there was empty space; the
arms ended in stumps. The face
was lacerated and torn; blood ran They were once again in German,
from newly-made wounds, and as I but as before have I given the
watched, still unable to move a English translation.
muscle, the Count wrenched a whip June 9th, 1695. Max, my
from the wall and cut the Thing familiar, lured an old woman to my
across the face with it. The Thing castle, where ate her. She was I
clutched its forehead and staggered not very frightened of Max, and
through the doorway. did not expect him to drink her
At the same time a huge bat flew blood. . . .
in the window, and something told January 19th, 1857, . . .
me that this was the Vampire, and Killed three peasants by means of
this frightened me so much that I curses and incantations to Zamiel. .
exerted all my will to call for Divine

protection. Apparently suc- I
July 26th, 1958 Lured . . .
ceeded; the paralysis left my limbs, English psychic investigator, John

and found
I was free of the su-
I Campbell, to my castle. am about I
pernatural bond that had been to put out his eyes and eat him.
hampering me. Even then, how- Have just called Van Haak to the
ever, was thinking how to prove
I
room ....
the truth of my experience; then decided
I to find out, if possi-
acting on a hunch, said the Word I ble, who Van Haak was. Going
mentioned in "Bradmoor." The down to the museum, asked the I
ghost of the Count seemed to fall proprietor who he had been. He

apart, and soon all that was left of knew the story, and answered:
Franz Asta was a white ivory "He was a witch who lived in
frame, and even that became dust the same time as Asta. One day
and blew out of the window as a Asta invited him to his castle . . .
bree/e whispered into the room. the Asta Tower, you know. . . .
But on the floor, intact though He was never seen again, at least
yellowed with the passing of cen- not alive. They found him in the
turies, was the red book in which moat with his face covered with raw
the Count had been writing when I wounds and his hands cut off. The
entered the room. . . . story says that after death he was
doomed to become one of Franz As-
-Ill- ta's familiars. Of course, it's only
a story. ..."
Returning to my hotel, went I Oh, yeah ? I thought.
up to my room and took out the My hotel again. As crossed I
book. now saw it was a diary.

I the lawn looked towards the place
I
I give some of the entries here. where, I knew, the Tower would be
silhouetted against the skyline. I I went up to my room and took

glanced in its general direction. out my notebook to copy down the
Then took a long look.
I My eyes entries in Asta's diary. went I
stillregistered the same. over to the drawer in which the

The Asta Tower was no longer little red book lay, and opened it.
there l
The drawer was empty .
rushed to find somebody who'd

I
I have no proof now, so don't I
tell me
that my eyes had gone expect you to believe a word of
wrong, that the Tower was still this. But I've never been able to
there. A young American, also decide this: did the diary, like
staying at the hotel, was the first the Tower, crumble into nothing-
"
person that met. What's hap -I ness? Or did something .
pened the Tower ?" cried, I something supernatural take

. . .
catching at his arm. "I left it it into the Beyond? Or was it a

about four o'clock this morning, thief with an eye for strange loot
and it was still intact. What went that took it? don't know.
I I
wrong?" never will.

He did not ask me what was I What do you think?
doing in a lonely tower at four
o'clock in the morning, as ex- I
pected him to. He only answered

"You were lucky. It couldn't have
been more than fifteen minutes
after you left, that the place
started to crumble. About half-an-
hour later the only thing they
found was a pile of bricks and the
skeleton of a huge bat. They
haven't found out yet what it was
that caused apart. Queer
it to fall
affair altogether; if you ask me, I
think that ... if there were such

things ghosts had something
. .
.
to do with it."
"Maybe," said numbly. "Uh
I .
. . thanks for telling me."
UAIL=CALL (continued from p. 21) Videodrome ; it does have a sense

of "what's going on now?" in it.
enjoyable.
Mike D. Mason
Having Fred Chap-
just read Loughborough, England
pell's Dagon am in agreement , I
with the letters in Crypt #48. It

appears that Chappell uses the
Mythos element to visualise his own
need for an actual "centre" to the SubsCRYPTions
plot a basis on which to build
"his" story of a man's growing in- One year's subscription (8
sanity. Without the Mythos element issues) costs $36 in the USA
we have a man's thoughts and im- and Canada, $44 in Western
ages conveyed through his mad- Europe, and $47 in Australia.
ness. With the Mythos the plot is
based better, and provides a depth Pay in U. S. funds, and
and indeed a reason for the man's indicate first issue.
madness. liked Phinas Kornegay's
I
comment on the story being like

CO^VERSATION IIN A
RAILWAY CARRIAGE
DISAPPEARING WIFE carriage now was the faint light of

POLICE CANNOT FIND twilight. Very soon the train en-
tered a station; the door opened to
ANY BODY admit a woman. Grant could not see
her face owing to the bad light.
The mysterious disappearance She sat down and took out her
of Mrs. Gillian Shelton has still newspaper, which he had noticed
not been accounted for. She her frantically snatching from a
vanished from her house late bookstall as the train squealed into
last night; no trace of her the station. For some time the only
body has yet been found. Po- sound in the carriage was the rus-
lice believe that her husband tling of paper. Then the woman
murdered her and burned the suddenly ejaculated "Fools!"
body in the fireplace. Grant jumped at the sudden,
sharp sound. Then, regaining his
So read Jim Grant, sitting in a composure, he sat back and said
third-class non-smoker railway car- "I beg your pardon?"
riage. He was not horrified, as "I said 'Fools'!" said the woman.
any normal person would be. In "The police don't know what they're
fact, he was very pleased. But talking about. They say Mrs. Shel-
then, he had good reason to; he ton's body was burnt; it isn't true!
had murdered her. That's not at all what happened to
"Hope she rots in mut- hell," he it!" Grant felt odd; this was get-
tered. "Damn her, marrying some- ting too near home for his liking.
body while was in the army! I'm But,
I
stillkeeping his voice under
glad
will
Ikilled her! But the police
never find the body
gave a grim smile. ".
."he . .
control,
pen, then?"
he said: "What hap- ^
I've seen . .
"He ate the body, of course,"
to that!" He sat back in his seat. she said coolly. "And it wasn't the
"My God, but I'm hungry!" husband, either; it was somebody
The train rocked from side to else, somebody called Jim Grant."
side. A long high scream assailed He leapt towards the seat opposite;
his ears; an express was sending but at that moment the train
out its cry as it raced in the other
stopped with a grinding jerk, and
direction, as a gull lets out its with a "This is my stop," the wom-
shriek as it skims over the surface an opened the door and climbed
of the water.
out.
^lic k !The lights dimmed and He jumped out after her;
went she
out. The only light in the knew his secret, she mustn't es-
cape! Then he saw her face . . . foaming at the mouth. Before long
the eyes had been cut out, he everyone in the station was watch-
hadn't wanted to eat them. He fell ing him; the police found him dead
on the platform, screaming and of a broken blood vessel.
R'LYEH REVIEW (continued from page 51)
the time the most commonly fatal by L. Theobald, Jun. is slightly

type of cancer in men it's fairly more epic in length (212 lines) and
certain that cancer that kills as just as comic in tone ( "Zythopolis"
swiftly as his did after it was diag- was Lovecraft's Latinization of Mil-
nosed had been in the body for as waukee it translates roughly as
long as several years. It's not "beer city"). Lovecraft wrote it
without a little poignance, then, for his friend in amateur journalism
that one realizes that even as he on the occasion of Moe's 25th Class
was writing the later stories that Reunion. As Lovecraft's own remi-
would immortalize him, Lovecraft niscence of what life was like in
was already dying.
1904 a year when "Boston was still
On a more pleasant note Everts a sep'rate realm from Cork, / Whilst
has also annotated two unbound English yet was spoken in New
folios of Lovecraft's verse epistles. York!" it's an amalgam of observa-
Both are written in the heroic tions on what was topical in world
couplet style of the master verse- news (Percival Lowell's observa-
epistle writer, Alexander Pope, and tions on the canals of Mars, the
like Pope's, both are witty attacks birth of the Czar's ill-fated heir)
on the culture of their time. and the popular culture (Buster
An Epistle to Francis, Ld. Bel- Brown comic strips and the lyrics
knap is subtitled "With a Volume of of "Sweet Adeline").
Proust, presented to him by his Like all of Lovecraft's descents
aged Crandsire, Lewis Theobald, into humor, this poem begs the
Jun., Christmas, 1918." In this question how much of his joking
mock epic of eighty-two lines, a was good-natured and how much
perplexed Lovecraft searches for a was gloss over something that
a
suitably "modern" volume to present really rankled. There is, for ex-
to Frank Belknap Long, since, "For ample, the following couplet: "A
sure, 'twere vain on normal Art to brief recess now back to art's dim
lean / In Youth's jazz'd World of last row, / To doctor that curst
Concrete and Machine!" Although junk by old De Castro!" It leaves
little more than a platform from one wondering at the gentility of
which Lovecraft vents his spleen on Lovecraft's letters to de Castro
modern writers like Joyce and Eliot some years later (see Crypt
six
and how short they fall of the clas- #46), and whether those letters
sics, it shows that Lovecraft was at would have been written at all if,
least familiar enough with their as Moe originally intended, the
work to comment upon it. Included poem was published in a book.
with this poem is a facsimile of Everts' annotations are helpful
"The Spectator," a juvenile account for some of the more obscure per-
of Lovecraft's imaginary visit to sonal references in both poems, but
New York that is amusing when one many are unnecessary and some
considers the sentiments he would questionable (is Percy Shelley real-
express some years later, after ly "more famous for marrying the
having lived there. author of Frankenstein "? Though ) .
An Epistle to the Rt. Honble the poems themselves are trifles,

Maurice Winter Moe, Esq, of Zytho - the Strange Company has enhanced
polis, in the Northwest Territory of their value with the usual quality
HIS MAJESTY'S American Dominion (continued on page 47)
The Mask
-I- suppose that you've got a haunted

room here?" Now he's got his
The owner of the boarding- chance, he thought. But surpris-
house was a rather facetious young ingly, Laird said, "No, we haven't
man with a drooping moustache. got any ghosts, at least
He was the type, Dick Moorhead don'tI
think we have."
knew, who would make a standing
"Pity," said Moorhead. "Which
joke of Moorhead's tendency to room are you giving me?"
write a ghost story whenever he
Then,
as Laird reached for a key, "Ah^
had a moment of spare time, which Number 19,
was often.
see."
I He took it
The young man, who from Laird's outstretched hand, and
introduced himself as Fred Laird, told him that he would, as it was
had noticed the name "Richard P.
quite early in the afternoon, go to
Moorhead" on Moorhead's luggage, his room and unpack.
and immediately asked "Are you the
He did so,
and the remainder of the afternoon
ghost-story writer?" and evening passed uneventfully.
Moorhead didn't like the empha- At eleven-thirty he went to bed.
sis on the "you." He answered Lying in the soft velvet dark-
coldly, "I am that person. Why?" ness, he remembered the events
The young man hastened to pacify that had brought him to the small
him with "I've read a lot of your
village, Crampton, which was about
books. particularly enjoyed The
I
a half-mile from Laird's boarding-
Prowling Horror of Woodville Are house.
.
Eating his breakfast one
you writing one now?" morning at his London home, a line
The conversation continued, and the
in paper caught his eye.
as it unfolded Moorhead began to Strange Happenin gs in Village, it
feel that Laird might not be so said. Crampto n A Haunted Vil-
cynical, after all, about his stories.
lage ?
Laird, in fact, insisted in taking Reading on, he was informed
him into the lounge, where two that huge creature had been seen
a
copies of Eerie Stories reposed, near the churchyard. It was cov-
hiding shyly in a corner of the
ered with hair and had a wolf's
scrupously-polished bookcase. head, according to witnesses. Old
Looking at the numbers, Moorhead
men were filling guns, trophies
found he had contributed to both
from some war fought long ago,
of them ... in fact, they each with silver
bullets. "Here," Moor-
contained an episode of his two-part
head had said to himself, "is a
serial, Spawn of Hell .
chance of a lifetime! Maybe I'll
"I don't suppose," said Moorhead
even meet the werewolf!" He was
turning from the bookcase, "I don't
one of those people who believe in
. .
what they write. So he packed a

suitcase and drove to Crampton.
There were no hotels or board-
ing-houses in Crampton, but after
an hour's search Moorhead found
Laird's house. The rest has been
told
As Moorhead floated through the
strange world of half-sleep, he re-
solved to make extensive inquiries
in the region of the village. He
did so, but found out nothing ex-
cept a rather nasty rumour of the
type that breed by the dozen in
small He went to the
villages.
churchyard where the Thing was
reputed have appeared, but it
to October, wasn't it?" came Moor-
did not materialize for him. No head's answer. Then he gave a
coffins rose out of the earth. No gasp. "I say! Was it Hallowe'en
dead bodies lay on the grass. No Night?"
corpses peered from behind trees. "As a matter of fact, it was,"
The place was just what it seemed confirmed Fred Laird. "And as it
to be; an ordinary cemetery, a was Hallowe'en, thought I.I . . .
place where the dead stayed dead. Well, it seemed. Oh, to hell
. . .
But then, of course, werewolves with it. Come over here . . .
were, while being supernatural look!" Mystified, Moorhead fol-

creatures of the worst kind, still lowed Laird over to a cupboard.
alive. Maybe ....
Moorhead As it opened, he bent forward to
and nearly
thought suddenly maybe the
. . . peer into it . . .
Thing was not a werewolf at all, fainted from the totally unexpected
but some witch's familiar! That momentary horror.
would mean a search for the The werewolf stared out at him
"devil's mark," a search that would with blind, gaping eye-sockets. It
be thought obscene in modern Eng- was some time before Moorhead re-
land. But there go, thought
I alised that it was only the skin that
Moorhead ruefully, run on and I lay at the bottom, an empty hulk.

on when there isn't even any proof So Laird had killed the werewolf!
of the Thing's existence. A few Moorhead thought, and turned to
old wives' tales. The news-
. . . Laird to ask. "How did you kill
papers will fasten their teeth into it?" But Laird's face had become
anything if they're given a chance. more worried still, and he only
Returning to the boarding- said, "I see that you don't under-
house, he was surprised to find stand yet." "Admittedly, don't," I
Laird waiting for him at the door. said Moorhead, "is there something
Laird usually had a grin on his else?"
" fiercely,
face, so it was more of a surprise Look " said Laird
, "I
to see that he looked very worried. was in London on the twenty ninth.
Before he knew what was happen- I saw this thing in the window of a
ing, Moorhead found himself sitting junk-shop, and suddenly it struck
in Laird's private room, being of- me that it would be rather good to
fered a cigarette by Laird. have a Hallowe'en joke on the vil-
"I hear you've been making in- lagers, so went in and got the
I
quiries in the village about the skin

thing that was seen by the church- "But the newspapers got hold of
yard," was Laird's opening remark. the story, and of course didn't I
"Do you know on what date it was say a word to anyone about my
seen?" part in it, was too scared. How-
I
"Somewhere around the end of ever, don't want you to go to any

I
. " "
further trouble. So now you know. on his he had died of fright.

face,
"1 1! the werewo lf! By other signs, he had been throt-
* * * tled. Inspector Swann looked at
the body, rather sadly; though his
Moorhead lay in bed, thinking sorrow stemmed more from the fact
of every torture to which he would that he had absolutely no clues
like to subject Fred Laird. Bring- than from the loss to humanity that
ing him down to a stinking house had just taken place.
like this on a fool's errand . . .
Of course, there was the disap-
the cheek of it, blast him! Oh pearance of Laird, the proprietor
we'l, this was the last night he of the place. That was incriminat-
was going to spend under this ing enough. Gone without a trace!
roof, thank Cod, He'd have started
He hadn't told anyone he was go-
out tonight, had his car not re-
fused to start.
ing; nobody had seen him for a
Still, the garage
few days.
proprietor had said that the car
would be as good as new in the Then there were the floorboards.
morning, How did they fit in? They had
A sudden noise behind him made been thrown up, it seemed, by
him start. He turned over . . .
pressure from below. They were
Standing there, with one skinny in the room in which the body had
hand pointing at him, was the most been found. Had something . . .
ridiculous figure that Moorhead had come from under the floor and put
ever seen. its hands round the man's neck?
It was not the long,
flowing garment, quite obviously a There was some link between
sheet, that it wore; though it could these incidents there had to
. . .
be seen as a crude attempt to por- be. "If only we could get hold of
tray the traditional robes of the Laird," the Inspector remarked to
old-time ghost. The thing that the constable who had been the
made him double up with laughing first agent of the law to see the
was the face. body. "At least we know who he
It was the face of a devil. At is," said the Constable pointing at
one part the material had torn, ex- the body on the floor. "Richard P.
posing the skin of the wearer. Moorhead's written his last thriller
Moorhead knew that if he ripped for Eerie Stories Pity too, i've
.
off the mask, the face of Fred never missed an issue." He caught
Laird would be underneath. And the Inspector's eye and suddenly
that was just what he intended to found an enraptured interest in a
do. To think that the idiot actual- monstrosity that was intended to
ly thought to scare him with a be a vase. Finally, he said "Is
damn fool get-up like that! He'd there a cellar in this place?" "How
show him that he wasn't going to the hell should know?" retorted
play on Moorhead's beliefs. He Swann irritably. "We'd better find
wasn't getting off lightly either. out, there may be something down
Moorhead would show him. . . .
there.
With one movement he leapt Five minutes later, the two men
tow.3rds the figure and ripped looked at each other in something
off the devil-mask. like horror. They were standing
He stood there with the mask in in the cellar, and at their feet lay
his hand, too terrified to cry out, the body of Fred Laird. The pro-
paralysed by fear of a Thing not of truding tongue and marks on the
this world, a Thing from the Great throat were indisputable signs that
Unknown Laird had been throttled.
"What on earth happened?" asked
the Constable as they locked up
the silent house and prepared to
The man
on the was un-
floor return to the police station. "I
doubtedly dead. By the expression suppose we'll never know ..."
Jameson?" he answers to the effect

that he was called away in the
night on urgent business. The dis-
appearance made a small stir in the
papers at the time, but after a few
months the police ended their in-
vestigation, no wiser than when
they began.
That was three years before
Moorhead ever met Laird. A year
after death of Jameson, we
the
come one of the parts of the
to
affair which seems to admit none
but a supernatural explanation; it
-Hi- is recorded in Laird's diary, which
he had been writing on the night of
lt may be a hard task for my his death.
readers to visualise Laird as a mur- Laird was alone in the house
derer. Not an intentional one, when it happened; he heard strange
maybe; but whether intentional or noises coming from the room in

not, he was definitely a murderer. which Jameson's corpse was hidden.
When Frank Jameson, a believer Entering the room, he was horrified
in ail superstition, found that Laird to see the floorboards being forced
laughed at his beliefs, he made up up from below; and, according to
his mind to give Laird such a shock the appropriate entry in his diary,
as would not be forgotten for many "I saw a hand reach up; stamped I
nights. Walking to the village that on it, whereupon its owner re-
same evening, he purchased a card- tracted it. Then the top of a head
board devil-mask and a sheet, re- came intoview; could not bear to I
turning when everybody else, Laird look upon the face, and rushing
included, was in bed. out of the room, locked the I
So much can be surmised. What door.

took place after that will never I will the last entry speak
let
certainly be known, but the scene for the pen lay in a blot
itself;
can be constructed, from a blood- across the page, the sentence which
stained poker, with one or two he had been writing was only half-
strands of human hair still adhering finished. The entry have re- I
to it, found in Laird's bedroom; produced below, for the benefit of

also by certain other signs. my readers.
What happened after Jameson let "August 2nd, 1958. Tonight is
himself into Laird's bedroom can be the anniversary of the death of
pictured. Laird waking, seeing Jameson. Will he haunt me? I can-
something leaning over the foot of not tell. But if he can only return
his bed; something that, by his in the flesh, shall lock myself in
I
half-sleeping brain, seemed to be a the cellar till daybreak. Will his

fiend from the depths of Hell. He face be as horrible as the glimpse
clutches up a poker, lying at hand I got on that night when saw the I
on the hearth by his bed; brings boards rising in . that Room? . .
the implement down on the Thing's A face like ." . .
skull. Sheet and mask fall away, But there the sentence ends.
and Laird sees no demon, but only There is no more. And we mortals
Frank Jameson in his death-throes. will never know what horrifying
Laird, horrified at what he has Face Moorhead saw when he ripped
done, realises that he must dispose off the Mask.
of the body. He tears up the No trace has yet been found of
floorboards in one of the rooms, the body of Frank Jameson. Did
lays the body, with disguise, in the his body crumble to dust when his
niche. When he is asked "Where is ghostly revenge had been achieved?
Or was it taken into a Beyond Gregg's gothic castle is a leit-

where only the Dead are allowed . motif that functions like Bloch's
. a Place which has no name?
.
earlier gothic building, the omni-
present house on the hill behind
-THE END- the Bates Motel in Psycho (which
American Gothic resembles in many
respects). Although an incongruity
in a modern city, what goes on in
R'LYEH REVIEW Gregg's castle is a stark reminder
(continued from page 92) that even among people capable of
producing something as spectacular
production on heavy stock with and enlightened as the Columbian
vintage photographs. Exposition, there are those who
harbor more primitive, basic pas-
sions we would just as soon forget.
Bloch, American Gothic.
Robert Hence the pun in the title.
TOR, 1987. 299 pp. $3.95. Bloch imbues the name of a paint-
ing known for its wholesomeness
(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz) with a subtle unwholesomeness.
In the publishing business, mar- This is a traditional gothic story in
keting is destiny. When Robert the sense that it is a morality tale
Bloch's American Gothic appeared cast against a darkened back-
in paperback in 1975, distributors ground. The background that
saw the word "gothic" and a sappy throws it into sharp relief is a
cover illustration, and promptly smug, self-congratulating part of
shelved it alongside the Barbara America whose hypocrisy comfort-
Cartland clones. It died a quick ably accommodates people like
and undeserved death. Gregg. (Bloch notes in a post-
Granted, the story has gothic script that his villain is based on
elements, including a dark forebod- Herman W. Mudgett, who really did
ing castle and an imperiled maiden. build a castle in Chicago in 1893
But the castle is located in Chi- and who may have killed over two
cago, not on a windswept moor, hundred people before he was fi-
and the maiden turns out to have nally apprehended and executed.)
more spunk than most of her male Full as the novel is, there are
friends and certainly more than several things one could wish for
any of the withering wallflowers more of here. Gregg is one of the
whose virtue takes the mandatory least developed characters in the
eight-count in these types of sto- story. One is more aware of him
ries. Bloch purposely manipulates fulfilling a function rather than
these stock genre elements to having an independent personality.
transform them into a vehicle suit- Likewise, when the story cranks
able for his particular type of hor- up to its somewhat anticlimactic
ror story. ending, one is aware that as much
Thai story concerns one C. Gor- as the gothic romance form gives
don Gregg, a quack pharmacist who Bloch a structure to toy with, it
buiki*; a castle on the corner of is also sometimes a creaking ma-
63rd and Wallace streets in Chicago chine over which he must labor.
the year of the 1893 World's Fair. But the story is well-paced and
A thoughtful capitalist, Gregg sees very evocative of its period and
that the best way to profit from place. Although not a very de-
this extravagance is to eliminate scriptive writer, Bloch knows how
the middle man literally . Like an to arrange scenes and what goes on
American Sweeney Todd (Gregg's in them to give a better visual im-
near contemporary), he murders pression than is at first evident in
guests who rent his rooms, dis- his streamlined prose.
poses of their bodies in his cellar As a final note, TOR Books must
and pays his bills with their money. (continued on page 12)
PREMONITION
A human soul in the centre of and in horror he looked down at

an oscillating vortex. A disem- his hands, the only portion of his
bodied ego, the ego of a mass mur- body visible to him. And then
derer, a fiend in human shape by horror and madness claimed his
the name of Harry Masters. mind, and at last he screamed; for
The ego sensed something mate- nothing remained of his hands save
rialising in the vortex. It came black, smoking hulks. Then, to
nearer, and Masters knew. All the the accompaniment of a peal of
strange events of his last week in thunder, blackness enveloped him
the world came back in a terrible and he knew no more.
second of horrible realisation. . . . When his eyes opened once more
upon the world, it was to see a
It was very cold in the High face looking down on him. Some
Street, Masters noted, as he walked minutes elapsed before he focused
to his office. The rain slashed his eyes sufficiently to recognise
down from the sky in a liquid it as that of his secretary. The
sheet, running along the gutter and memory of the horror he had just
splashing off any obstruction it experienced came flooding back to
chanced to meet. A muted rumble him, and he looked down at his
of thunder growled across the city; hands apprehensively; but there
a few minutes later the thought was not a mark on them, they were-
crossed his mind that he had seen perfectly whole. On a minute's
no lightning. He saw a fork of hard thinking, a more subtle horror
lightning a few minutes later; never presented itself to him: was he
before had he seen red lightning. going insane?
He wondered if it would be in the The red lightning, too, could
papers that night. be but a figment of a crazed mind.
An icy wind followed him into He could not stand the uncertainty;
his office as he shut the door he made up his mind to find out
against the storm. As he hung up the truth, however terrible it might
his coat in the hall, he saw another be. Turning to the secretary, he
of the uncanny flashes. His body asked her "Did you see any light-
seemed suddenly to be exposed to ning, Miss Woodvine?"
the heat of a factory furnace. Ag- "No, sir! Not a flicker; nor a
onizing pains came to his turtured whisper of thunder. Torrents of
mind from every part of his body. rain, though; you never did see .
. But here Masters interrupted uncomfortably his bed that

in
with "Never mind. That will be night. The wind rattled the doors
all. Miss Woodvine. You can take and windows and screamed like a
the day off." dying beast. Masters gave a final
"Take the day off, sir?" twitch, and at last succumbed to
"Yes, I don't feel very well; I the unaccountable urge to get out
think I'll go home," answered Mas- of bed.
ters. And Miss Woodvine thought He walked to the window and
that was true; for he was certainly leaned his elbows on the sill. Tat-
very pale. tered clouds floated across the
lurid sky. "I think i'll take a
Mark Garrett had not liked Mas- sleeping pili, I need the rest," he
ters; and in America, he made this said to nobody in particular.
dislike quite plain. He happened to Returning from the bathroom
know that Masters had two girl
with a glass of water, he saw the
friends at that time, one known as
heavens open and release a flood.
Susan and the other Jill. Garrett
He took the little round box of
rang up Jill and addressed her as
pills out of its alcove and dissolved
Susan, then hung up. He did a
one in the glass.
similar thing to Susan, both times
calling himself Frank. At that precise moment the sky
This trick ruined Masters' rela- was torn open as a fork of red
tions with both girls, as would be lightning ianced down. The horror
expected. However, Masters re- of that morning was upon him
solved to have his revenge on the again; he knew there would be a
culprit; and one night in a drug- second flash of lightning, and that
store, when he was more than a when it came, he would experience
little drunk, he heard Garrett, who the sensation of being burnt alive.
was in a similar state, boasting of . . He knew that he could still
.
the trick he had piayed. Masters avoid it, however. With one move-
rushed outside in a frenzy and set ment he removed the lid of the box
fire to the place. Too late did he of pills and tipped the contents
reaiise what he had done, and by into the giass.
that time twenty people had died It was only when he felt death
on the pyre. He fiew back to Eng- numbing his body that he realised
land on the next 'plane, changing that he was going out from his
his name (his real name was Chat- body, only to consign himself to
terton) to Masters. the flames of which he had had a
These uneasy thoughts passed premonition. . . .
through Masters' mind as he twisted .the fires of Hell.

. .
SOFT BOOKS
89 Marion Street, Toronto, Ontario,
Canada, M6R 1E6
VV e buy and sell Arkham, Berkley, Cape, Dobson, Doubleday,

Faber, Gnome, Gollancz, Grant, Grosser, Hodder, Hutchinson,
Kimber, Little Brown, MacDonald, Phantasia, Random,
Scream, Scribners, Underwood, Viking, Whispers - - Crypt Of
Cthulhu, Drumm, Fawcett, Necronomicon, Pardoe, Spectre,
Strange Co., - - Aldiss, Anderson, Ballard, Bloch, Brennen,
Campbell, Derleth, Ellison, Farmer, Howard, King, Long,
Moorcock, Niven, Smith, Straub, Vance, Wellman, etc., etc. . .
w e have also published selected works by H. P. Lovecraft,

plus Lovecraft criticism and bibliographies. At The Root, Cats
And Dogs, The Materialist Today, FuBar, Les Bibliotheques,
and Howard Phillips Lovecraft: The Books 4. etc., etc., etc
r orthcoming items include: William Hope Hodgson: A

Bibliography of Books
and Periodical Appearances. Clark .
Ashton Smith: The Books. Les Bibliotheques, etc., etc., etc
Send For Free Cataloeue

Rlyeh Review
R. Alain Everts, The Death of a tory until February, when pain
Gentleman: The Last Days of How - finally confined him to his bed, but
ard Phillips Lovecraft. 28 pp. he wasn't admitted into the Jane
$9.95. Brown Memorial Hospital until March
H. P. Lovecraft, An Epistle to
10. Although the diary Lovecraft
the Rt. Honble Maurice Winter Moe, kept at this time has been lost,
Esq . $9.50 Robert H. Barlow copied out some
of the entries and condensed oth-
H. P. Lovecraft, An Epistle to ers. Everts reproduces them at the
Francis, Ld. Belknap . $3.50. back of the book and they are not
(Each limited to 200 copies; all
pleasant reading. As Lovecraft's
published by The Strange Co., disease progresses, the word "pain"
Box 869, Madison, Wl 53701 ) appears with increasing frequency,
and the notes become more jagged,
(Reviewed by Stefan Dziemianowicz) rarely running to full sentences.
It's upsetting to think that a man
A half century after the event, with Lovecraft's descriptive powers
Lovecraft's premature death is very was reduced by his illness to these
much with us. In Randy Everts' final communications.
The Death of a Gentleman: The Everts' booklet also sheds inter-
Last Days of Howard Phillips Love - esting light on the people who were
craft , it is sometimes too much with witness to Lovecraft's final days.
us. Before you consider buying Lovecraft's physician, Cecil Dustin,
this expertly produced booklet, demonstrates extraordinary recall of
perhaps you should ask yourself his patient's illness (Everts' inter-
how much you really want to know view was conducted in 1972), al-
about Lovecraft's painful struggle though it's hard to believe that at
with terminal cancer of the colon. the time he diagnosed terminal can-
Everts devotes considerable atten- cer from a physical examination
tion to details that have not ap- alone. (This would be highly sus-
peared in other biographical stud- pect even with today's more sophis-
ies, and the results are definitely ticated medical knowledge.) Everts
not for t)ie squeamish. suggests that when Lovecraft was
Based on Lovecraft's meager finally moved from 66 College Street
diary notations, retrospective in- to the hospital, Dustin did it as
terviews with his relatives and doc- much for the benefit of Annie Cam-
tors, hospital records and physi- well, who had been totally discom-
cian's notes (a lot of the narrative posed by her nephew's illness,
is little more than a description of as for Lovecraft's sake.
the clinical signs and symptoms of Had the cancer been caught
his condition and the palliative early, Lovecraft's prognosis might
treatment of his pain and discom- have been favorable (Everts notes
fort), the account follows Love- that, with a sort of cruel irony,
craft's life from roughly New Year's the same issue of the Providence
Day to March 15 of 1937. As we've Journal that carried Lovecraft's
come to expect of Strange Company obituary carried an article on edu-
publications, this one is crammed cating the public about the early
with photos and memorabilia. Obit- warning signs of cancer). While
uary notices from several papers we can only guess how early cancer
are also reproduced. had actually taken hold in Love-
Lovecraft apparently noted his craft based on his generally poor
problem first as indigestion (what health, his atrocious diet and the
he referred to as his "grippe") mortality statistics for what was at
back in 1936. He was still ambula- (continued on page 92)
MAIL-CALL OF CTHULHU
I can't think how long it is that you review. Thank you for the
I've kept meaning to write to you. warped magazine which you give to
I've been a regular reader of Crypt us.
of Cthulhu almost from the start Sean Branney
and find it becoming more and more Boulder, CO
a compulsive read. Yet I'm not a
great fan of HPL's fiction, but I
find his life and his letters endless- No. 49 is a truly amazing issue
ly fascinating. As a result Crypt it breaks new ground in Lovecraft
#46, just received, was a delight, scholarship, and that is no mean
and what with your new presenta- feat in view of all that has been
tion, made the issue a total fascina- written about HPL's work over the
tion. There's something of a micro- past half century.
cosm of wonder that you can slip Iwas, needless to say, very
into when Crypt arrives, and I flattered by the book reviews and
have a horrible feeling may be I delighted by Lin Carter's reference
coming addicted to it. Heaven to Morgan Robertson and his memo-
help us all. rable story. Robertson, by the
Mike Ashley way, was a former seaman turned
Kent, England author and much of his work was
outside the SF or fantasy genres.
Wilum Pugmire lent me a box of A prolific writer, he is virtually
Crypt s and
, haven't slept so
I forgotten today.
poorly in weeks. especially ap-
I
Robert Bloch
preciate your theme issues, such Los Angeles, CA
as the CAS diad and the Lost Books
issues. Perhaps you could devote read Fat Face by Michael Shea.
1
a volume of arcane lore and theolo- It was good. But have something I
gy to the women of weird tales? to say about Wagner's introduction

Surely the gentler sex has made which of course is a positive cri-
many a contribution to the annals tique of Fat Face lauding it beyond ,
of fear and loathing? reason: "cosmic horror equaling

Maryanne Snyder HPL" maybe equaling Derleth,
. . .
Seattle, .WA yes, but NOT HPL! And Wagner

manages to also put down most oth-
Koszowski's covers, especially er Mythos stories, praising the few
for Crypt #22 and "The Tomb that he likes, stating with authority
Herd," are most impressive. what is or what is not cosmically

Bruce Walker frightening. On page one you
Largo, FL read a quote from Mountains of
Madness emphasis on shoggoths.
,
I especially the diversity

enjoy On page one you meet Patti, the
of your articles and the wide range prostitute. guessed the end. I
of reader opinions which you print Correctly, too. Horrifying? No.

(such as the opposed reviews of Shoggoths dressing as humans in
From Beyond ). Individual perspec- order to eat us. So? Deep Ones
tives are essential for constructing dressing as humans in order to
an intelligent approach to literature mate with us? Maybe What . . .
and its interpretation. The "R'lyeh happens to the girl when she final-
Review" is always interesting and a ly "makes it" with the shoggoth-
good resource for those who cannot man can be discovered by reading
easily obtain Lovecraft related ma- Lumley's Return of the Deep One s
terials in their hometowns. hope I where it is described in a much
that you can continue to provide more cosmic manner (shoggoth feed-
the addresses of publishers and ing). Fat Face was good. liked I
distributors of the materials which (continued on page 21 )

NEXT TIME
Once we planned to call it quits with Crypt of Cthulhu #50. It
seemed a long way away back then. In that case you would not
have been reading this "Next Time" teaser. Its very presence
denotes that we've got our second wind. Here's what you'll find
in Crypt of Cthulhu #51 ;
Mike Ashley, "Lovecraft and Blackwood; A Surveil-

lance"
Thomas "The Mystics of Muelenburg"
Ligotti,
Lin Carter, "The Benevolence of Yib"
Will Murray, "Did Lovecraft Revise 'The Curse of
Alabad and Chinu and Aratza'?"
Randall Larson, "Innsmouth Spawn"
Carl T. Ford,
"
Cthaat Aquadinqen A Guide to :
Further Research"
Shawn Ramsey, "Henry Kuttner's Cthulhu Mythos
Tales: An Overview"
Robert M. Price and Tani Jantsang, "The True His-
tory of the Tcho-Tcho People"
CRYPT OF CTHULHU
Editor
Robert M. Price
Fiction Editor and Reviewer
Stefan R. Dziemianowicz
Contributing Editors
S. T. Joshi Will Murray
.
Columnists
Lin Carter . Carl T . Ford
Copyright O 1987
Fiction and poetry by Ramsey Campbell

Cover by Allen Koszowski
All other material by
Cryptic Publications
Robert M. Price, Editor
107 East James Street
Mount Olive, North Carolina 28365

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II

The Haunted Manor 5

The Oak Chest 6

The Hollow in the Woods 8

Things from the Sea 11

The Crave in the Desert 13

The Devil's Cart 16

The Whispering Horror 22

Conversation in a Railway Carriage 91

it came from the past

T. V. Boardman & Co., Ltd.

37, Hertford Street, London, W. 1

26th August, 1958

Master John R. Campbell,

Thank you for sending us your illustrated book entitled GHOSTLY

We should like to take this opportunity of encouraging you to

With very best wishes for a successful future.

Tom Boardman, Jr.

I should think most of my read- some (not necessarily the most

often said that, had been Derleth, I show to publishers, presumably on

to blame Bob Price for its resur- about to fold.

Bob was seized by an urge to be- blithely invented a phrase and

and then to send it staggering out see many of the surnames of

moured only in whispers, would one that is clearly based on Dennis

azine from Bolton, Lancashire, ap- Lovecraft, and a couple of years

Cije $aunteli iUanor

The manor stands in the centre

The Walls are thick with ivy.

The manor is deserted.

And now the wind stops howling.

He is drawn towards a bloodstain

For here, he shot himself.

bedroom. And then he leaped

the stairs. manding to be taken for a walk.

and Mrs. Johnson had found

chair, "is that you read too many will."

window, then went and telephoned

In the hall lay the body of

"Did you know the previous

. a sound like the lid of a chest

grunted and wrenched Verses Dedic atory by

But he could do nothing. the Book of Eibon by

I hate the dreadful hollow behind the little wood.

I he shivered again and gave a low

thing called a shoggoth?" what was the word? .shog- . .

"No, never," answered. "What I goths. It was a pity I'd started

Mother ) go home? I'll see you tomorrow,

at the bottom; at least, we thought to go through the woods."

violently I can't go that way!"

I interrupted. him firmly. "You can't stay here.

"Very well," suddenly

"See you tomorrow," he had realised why Mary had tripped.

It made quite a sensation in the White sticks ? Boulders ?

persons unknown," was the verdict lay there grinning up at me . . .

wondered. Shoqqoth ? bones! The whole place was an

ireaching for my throat. ... fell I

Mnto the Hollow and cracked my

sciousness, thought I'd gone I

blind. But then realised that I

one of the skulls was lying on my

horrible thing away.

goths were crawling down the sides

schizophrenic patients. And he Isprinted up the fourth side of

my story. by the shoggoths beckoning . . .