Avon Fantasy Reader No. 9 — page 18: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

the position of this room on the thirteenth floor, nearly the entire city can be seen. Now I can only see a thick blanket of blackness where customarily are lights and life. “I fear greatly that the wailing cries heard constantly from the outskirts of the city are the death cries of the inhabitants. They are constantly increasing in volume and are approaching the center of the city. “The fog yet hangs over everything. If possible, it is even heavier than before, but the conditions have changed. Instead of an opaque, impenetrable wall of odorous vapor, there now swirls and writhes a shapeless mass in- contortions of almost human agony. Now and again the mass parts and I * catch a brief glimpse of the streets below. “People are running to and fro, screaming in despair. A vast bedlam of sound flieseup to my window, and above all is the immense whistling of unseen and unfelt winds. “The fog has again swept over the city and the whistling is coming closer « and closer... 7. | “It is now directly beneath me. “God! An instant ago the mist opened and I caught a glimpse of the streets below. | 3 es: “The fog is not simply vapor—it lives! By the side of each moaning and weeping human is a companion figure, an aura of strange and vari-colored hues. How the shapes cling! Each to a living thing! 3 “The men and women are down. Flat on their faces. The fog figures caress them lovingly. They are kneeling beside them. They are—but I dare not tell it. “The prone and writhing bodies have been stripped of their clothing. They are being consumed—piecemeal. 3 “A merciful wall of hot, steamy vapor has swept over the whole scene. | can see no more. | “Beneath me the wall of vapor is changing colors. It seems to be lighted by internal fires. No, it isn’t. I have made a mistake. The colors are from above, reflections from the sky. “Look up! Look up! The whole sky is in flames. Colors as yet unseen by man or demon. The flames are moving; they have started to intermix; the = colors rearrange themselves. They are so brilliant that my eyes burn, yet they are a long way off. “Now they have begun to swirl, to circle in and out, twisting in intricate designs and patterns. The lights are racing each with each, a kaleidoscope of unearthly brilliance. “I have made a discovery. There is nothing harmful in the lights. They radiate force and friendliness, almost cheeriness. But by their very strength, they hurt. “As I look, they are swinging closer and closer, a million miles at each jump. Millions of miles with the speed of light. Aye, it is light, the quin- 16 Comilcbooks:co