A story of Walpurgis Night, in which the horror creeps and grows
A brief weird story about the frightful thing that was imprisoned in that strange metal coffin
“People credit you with plenty of pluck. Now, if you will go in the middle of the night to the Chamber of Horrors, and bring back the Infernal Judge from the left-hand porch, we’ll all stand you a dinner.”
"He slept badly, and when he slept, he dreamed—of M. Tibault, a man no longer, but a shadow, a spectre, the limber ghost of an animal whose words came purringly between sharp little pointed teeth."
A tale of the sea, and the thing called Alain Gervais that came aboard the Jolly Waterman
Whatever hour you woke there was a door shutting. From room to room they went, hand in hand, lifting here, opening there, making sure—a ghostly couple.
"John, we are sinking! I wonder if you really understand what I feel at the present time"
How she trembled!—her body, her dying voice—she pressing heavily upon him, while the moon triumphed now through cloud glaring a moment white on the lunacy of her ghostly face.
A Short, Fantastic Tale
A Quick-Action Storiette Crowded with Dramatic Pathos
The witch beckoned to the scarecrow, throwing so much magnetic potency into her gesture that it seemed as if it must inevitably be obeyed, like the mystic call of the lodestone when it summons the iron.
'But I understand at last. He only wanted to communicate. He strains forward out of his darkness; he reaches toward us out of his mystery; he makes us dim signs out of his horror.'
