Pulp Fiction, 1949 · page 38 of 133
A. Merritt's Fantasy Magazine, December 1949 — page 38: what you’re looking at
A restored page from Pulp Fiction, 1949. Page through the whole issue in the reader above.
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oa ram - " d =e hie ~ - - ~ & , a : . ; 38 » en * : te A. MERRITT’S FANTASY your reports. When you gave me them, = 3s that which hated and feared the shadow wept, but that which desired it rejoiced.’ “Night came—the third night. At din- S ner he had no perception of a lurking _ watcher. Nor in the library. He felt a ‘vast disappointment and as vast a relief. He went to his bedroom. Nothing there. An hour or so later he turned in. It was a warm night, so he covered himself only with the sheet. “He told me, ‘I do not think I had been asleep. I am sure I was not asleep. But suddenly I felt the fragrance creep over _ me—and I heard a wihnsper close to my ear. I sat u “ *The shadow stood beside me. “It was sharply outlined, pale rose above. It was leaning toward me. I could see the pointed nails of that hand, thought I could see the gleam of shadowy eyes. I summoned all my strength and laid my hand on it. I felt only the sheet. “*The shadow leaned closer . . . whis- pering ... whispering... and now I un- derstood it . . . and then it was she told me her name .. . and other things. . . and what I must do. But I must not do this thing until the moment she kissed me—when I could feel her lips on mine—’ “TI asked sharply, ‘What were you to do? “He answered, ‘Kill myself.’ ” D* LOWELL pushed back his chair, stood trembling. “Good God! And he did kill himself! Dr. Bennett, I do _ mot see why you did not consult me in this case. Knowing what I told you of—”’ Bill interrupted: “Precisely because of that, sir. I had my reasons for wishing to handle it alone. Reasons which I am prepared to defend before you.” Before Lowell could answer, he went on swiftly: “T told him, ‘It’s nothing but hallucina- tion, Dick; a phantom of the imagination. Nevertheless, it has reached a stage I don’t like. You must take dinner with me, and stay here for the night at least. If you won't consent, frankly I’m going to use force to make you.’ _ “He looked at me for a moment with the subtle amusement in his eyes inten- sified. He said quietly, ‘But if it’s only hallucination, Bill, what good will that do? T’ll still have my imagination with me, won’t I? What’s to keep it from conjuring up Brittis here as well as at home ?” “T said, ‘All that be damned. Here you stay.’ “He said, ‘It goes. I’d like to try the experiment.’ “We had dinner. I wouldn’t let him speak again of the shadow. I slipped a strong sleepmaker into a drink. In fact, I doped him. In a little while he began to get heavy-eyed. I put him to bed. I said to myself, ‘Fellow, if you come out of that in less than ten hours then I’m a horse doctor.’ “T had to go out. It was a little after midnight when I returned. I listened at Dick’s door, debating whether to run the risk of disturbing him by going in. I de- cided I wouldn’t. At nine o’clock the next morning I went up to look at him. The room was empty. I asked the servants when Mr. Ralston had gone. None knew. When I called up his house, the body had already been taken away. There was nothing I could do, and I wanted time to think. Time, unhampered by the police, to make some investigations of my own, in the light of certain other things which Ralston had told me and which I have not related since they are not directly related to the symptoms exhibited. The symp- toms’’—Bill turned to de Keradel—“ were the only matters in which you were in- terested, professionally ?”’ De Karadel said, “Yes. But I still see nothing in your recital to warrant any diagnosis but hallucination. Perhaps in these details you have withheld I might—” IT had been thinking, and interrupted him rudely enough: “Just a moment. A little while back, Bill, you said this Brittis, shadow or illu- sion or what not, told him that she was. no demon—no Succubus. You started to quote him—‘She said she was—’ then stopped. What did she say she was?” Bill seemed to hesitate, then said slow- ly, “She said she had been a girl, a Bret-— tonne until she had changed into—a shad- ow of Ys.” | The Demoiselle threw back her head, laughing unrestrainedly. “She put a hand on my arm. “A shadow of that wicked Dahut the White! Alain de Caranac— 7 -comicbooks:com