Avon Fantasy Reader No. 14 — page 78: what you’re looking at

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

thrill of purely physical horror passed over Audrey. That story of Sally Comp- ton’s about the man back in Scott County! He, too, had been bitten by a whole bunch of rattlesnakes, and what had happened to him? The poison had rotted the flesh and swelled the whole corpse, and in the end the bloated thing had durs¢ horribly—burst horribly with a detestable popping noise, Was that what was happening to Walker down there on the rock floor? Instinctive- ly she felt that she had begun to listen for something too terrible even to name to herself. The clock ticked on, keeping a kind of mocking, sardonic time with the far-off drumming that the night wind brought. She wished it were a striking clock, so that she could know how long this eldritch vigil must last. She cursed the toughness of fiber that kept her from fainting, and wondered what sort of relict the dawn could bring, after all. Probably neighbors would pass— no doubt somebody would call—would they find her still sane? Was she still sane now? Morbidly listening, Audrey all at once became aware of something which she had to verify with every effort of her will before she could believe it; and which, once verified, she did not know whether to welcome or dread. The distant beating of the Indian tom-toms had ceased. She did not relish this new and sudden silence, after all! There was some- thing sinister about it. The loud-ticking clock seemed abnormal in its new loneliness, Capable at last of conscious motion, she shook the covers from her face and looked into the darkness toward the window. It must have cleared after the moon set, for she saw the square aperture distinctly against the background of stars. Then without warning came that shocking, unutterable sound—ugh!— that dull pop of cleft skin and escaping poison in the dark. God!— The bonds of muteness snapped, and the black night waxed reverberant with Audsey’s screams of stark, unbridled frenzy. Consciousness. did not pass away with the shock. How merciful if only it had! Amidst the echoes of her shrieking Audrey still saw the star-sprinkled square of window ahead, and heard the doom-boding ticking of that fright- ful clock. Did she hear another sound? Was that square window still a per- fect square? She was in no condition to weigh the evidence of her scnses or distinguish between fact and hallucination. No—that window was not a perfect square. Something had encroached on the lower edge. Nor was the ticking of the clock the only sound in the room. There was, beyond dispute, a heavy breathing neither her own nor poor Wolt’s. Wolf slept very silently, and his wakeful wheezing was unmistakable. Then Audrey saw against the stars the black, demoniac silhouette of some- thing anthropoid—the undulant bulk of a gigantic head and shoulders fum- bling slowly toward her. “Y'aaaah! Yaaaah! Go away! Go away! Go away, snake devil! Go ’way, “ig! T didn’t mean to kill ‘em—lI was feared he’d be scairt of ‘em. Don’t, Yig, don't! I didn’t go for to hurt yore chillen—don’t come nigh me—don't change me into no spotted snake!” 76 conmiclbooks. conn