Horror tales; Nightmares -- Fiction; Short stories
His voice was lowered and instinctively we leaned toward him; he was
gripping the chair arms and the blood was seeping from his lip.
"Then the sun sets and the shadows come and I stagger on and fall and
rise and reel on again. And I laugh, laugh, laugh! Then I cease, for
the moon comes up and throws the grasslands in ghostly and silvery
relief. The light is white across the land, though the moon itself is
like blood. And I look back the way I have come--and far--back"--all
of us leaned farther toward him, our hair a-prickle; his voice came
like a ghostly whisper--"far back--I--see--the--grass--waving. There is
no breeze, but the tall grass parts and sways in the moonlight, in a
narrow, sinuous line--far away, but nearing every instant." His voice
died away.
Somebody broke the ensuing stillness: "And then----?"
"Then I awake. Never yet have I seen the foul monster. But that is the
dream that haunts me, and from which I have wakened, in my childhood
screaming, in my manhood in cold sweat. At irregular intervals I dream
it, and each time, lately"--he hesitated and then went on--"each time
lately, the thing has been getting closer--closer--the waving of the
grass marks his progress and he nears me with each dream; and when he
reaches me, then----"
He stopped short, then without a word rose abruptly and entered the
house. The rest of us sat silent for awhile, then followed him, for it
was late.
* * * * *
How long I slept I do not know, but I woke suddenly with the impression
that somewhere in the house someone had laughed, long, loud and
hideously, as a maniac laughs. Starting up, wondering if I had been
dreaming, I rushed from my room, just as a truly horrible shriek
echoed through the house. The place was now alive with other people
who had been awakened, and all of us rushed to Faming's room, whence
the sounds had seemed to come.
Faming lay dead upon the floor, where it seemed he had fallen in
some terrific struggle. There was no mark upon him, but his face was
terribly distorted; as the face of a man who had been crushed by some
superhuman force--such as some gigantic snake.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account