American short stories : $b Selected and edited with an introductory essay on the short story by Charles Sears Baldwin
General
American short stories : $b Selected and edited with an introductory essay on the short story by Charles Sears Baldwin
American fiction -- 19th century; Short stories, American
I am no coward, and am possessed of considerable physical strength.
The suddenness of the attack, instead of stunning me, strung every
nerve to its highest tension. My body acted from instinct, before my
brain had time to realize the terrors of my position. In an instant
I wound two muscular arms around the creature, and squeezed it, with
all the strength of despair, against my chest. In a few seconds the
bony hands that had fastened on my throat loosened their hold, and
I was free to breathe once more. Then commenced a struggle of awful
intensity. Immersed in the most profound darkness, totally ignorant of
the nature of the Thing by which I was so suddenly attacked, finding
my grasp slipping every moment, by reason, it seemed to me, of the
entire nakedness of my assailant, bitten with sharp teeth in the
shoulder, neck, and chest, having every moment to protect my throat
against a pair of sinewy, agile hands, which my utmost efforts could
not confine--these were a combination of circumstances to combat which
required all the strength and skill and courage that I possessed.
At last, after a silent, deadly, exhausting struggle, I got my
assailant under by a series of incredible efforts of strength. Once
pinned, with my knee on what I made out to be its chest, I knew that
I was victor. I rested for a moment to breathe. I heard the creature
beneath me panting in the darkness, and felt the violent throbbing of a
heart. It was apparently as exhausted as I was; that was one comfort.
At this moment I remembered that I usually placed under my pillow,
before going to bed, a large yellow silk pocket-handkerchief, for use
during the night. I felt for it instantly; it was there. In a few
seconds more I had, after a fashion, pinioned the creature’s arms.
I now felt tolerably secure. There was nothing more to be done but to
turn on the gas, and, having first seen what my midnight assailant
was like, arouse the household. I will confess to being actuated by
a certain pride in not giving the alarm before; I wished to make the
capture alone and unaided.
Never losing my hold for an instant, I slipped from the bed to the
floor, dragging my captive with me. I had but a few steps to make to
reach the gas-burner; these I made with the greatest caution, holding
the creature in a grip like a vice. At last I got within arm’s-length
of the tiny speck of blue light which told me where the gas-burner lay.
Quick as lightning I released my grasp with one hand and let on the
full flood of light. Then I turned to look at my captive.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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