The Horror Megapack. Robert E. Howard

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Название The Horror Megapack
Автор произведения Robert E. Howard
Жанр Языкознание
Серия
Издательство Языкознание
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9781434438980



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of Oz Megapack

      HORROR

      The Achmed Abdullah Megapack

      The E.F. Benson Megapack

      The Second E.F. Benson Megapack

      The Cthulhu Mythos Megapack

      The Ghost Story Megapack

      The Second Ghost Story Megapack

      The Third Ghost Story Megapack

      The Horror Megapack

      The M.R. James Megapack

      The Macabre Megapack

      The Second Macabre Megapack

      The Mummy Megapack

      The Vampire Megapack

      The Werewolf Megapack

      WESTERNS

      The B.M. Bower Megapack

      The Max Brand Megapack

      The Buffalo Bill Megapack

      The Cowboy Megapack

      The Zane Grey Megapack

      The Western Megapack

      The Second Western Megapack

      The Wizard of Oz Megapack

      YOUNG ADULT

      The Boys’ Adventure Megapack

      The Dan Carter, Cub Scout Megapack

      The G.A. Henty Megapack

      The Penny Parker Megapack

      The Pinocchio Megapack

      The Rover Boys Megapack

      The Tom Corbett, Space Cadet Megapack

      The Tom Swift Megapack

      AUTHOR MEGAPACKS

      The Achmed Abdullah Megapack

      The Edward Bellamy Megapack

      The B.M. Bower Megapack

      The E.F. Benson Megapack

      The Second E.F. Benson Megapack

      The Max Brand Megapack

      The First Reginald Bretnor Megapack

      The Wilkie Collins Megapack

      The Philip K. Dick Megapack

      The Jacques Futrelle Megapack

      The Randall Garrett Megapack

      The Anna Katharine Green Megapack

      The Zane Grey Megapack

      The Second Randall Garrett Megapack

      The M.R. James Megapack

      The Murray Leinster Megapack

      The Second Murray Leinster Megapack

      The Andre Norton Megapack

      The H. Beam Piper Megapack

      The Mack Reynolds Megapack

      The Rafael Sabatini Megapack

      The Robert Sheckley Megapack

      DAGON, by H.P. Lovecraft

      I am writing this under an appreciable mental strain, since by tonight I shall be no more. Penniless, and at the end of my supply of the drug which alone makes life endurable, I can bear the torture no longer; and shall cast myself from this garret window into the squalid street below. Do not think from my slavery to morphine that I am a weakling or a degenerate. When you have read these hastily scrawled pages you may guess, though never fully realise, why it is that I must have forgetfulness or death.

      It was in one of the most open and least frequented parts of the broad Pacific that the packet of which I was supercargo fell a victim to the German sea-raider. The great war was then at its very beginning, and the ocean forces of the Hun had not completely sunk to their later degradation; so that our vessel was made a legitimate prize, whilst we of her crew were treated with all the fairness and consideration due us as naval prisoners. So liberal, indeed, was the discipline of our captors, that five days after we were taken I managed to escape alone in a small boat with water and provisions for a good length of time.

      When I finally found myself adrift and free, I had but little idea of my surroundings. Never a competent navigator, I could only guess vaguely by the sun and stars that I was somewhat south of the equator. Of the longitude I knew nothing, and no island or coast-line was in sight. The weather kept fair, and for uncounted days I drifted aimlessly beneath the scorching sun; waiting either for some passing ship, or to be cast on the shores of some habitable land. But neither ship nor land appeared, and I began to despair in my solitude upon the heaving vastnesses of unbroken blue.

      The change happened whilst I slept. Its details I shall never know; for my slumber, though troubled and dream-infested, was continuous. When at last I awaked, it was to discover myself half sucked into a slimy expanse of hellish black mire which extended about me in monotonous undulations as far as I could see, and in which my boat lay grounded some distance away.

      Though one might well imagine that my first sensation would be of wonder at so prodigious and unexpected a transformation of scenery, I was in reality more horrified than astonished; for there was in the air and in the rotting soil a sinister quality which chilled me to the very core. The region was putrid with the carcasses of decaying fish, and of other less describable things which I saw protruding from the nasty mud of the unending plain. Perhaps I should not hope to convey in mere words the unutterable hideousness that can dwell in absolute silence and barren immensity. There was nothing within hearing, and nothing in sight save a vast reach of black slime; yet the very completeness of the stillness and the homogeneity of the landscape oppressed me with a nauseating fear.

      The sun was blazing down from a sky which seemed to me almost black in its cloudless cruelty; as though reflecting the inky marsh beneath my feet. As I crawled into the stranded boat I realised that only one theory could explain my position. Through some unprecedented volcanic upheaval, a portion of the ocean floor must have been thrown to the surface, exposing regions which for innumerable millions of years had lain hidden under unfathomable watery depths. So great was the extent of the new land which had risen beneath me, that I could not detect the faintest noise of the surging ocean, strain my ears as I might. Nor were there any sea-fowl to prey upon the dead things.

      For several hours I sat thinking or brooding in the boat, which lay upon its side and afforded a slight shade as the sun moved across the heavens. As the day progressed, the ground lost some of its stickiness, and seemed likely to dry sufficiently for travelling purposes in a short time. That night I slept but little, and the next day I made for myself a pack containing food and water, preparatory to an overland journey in search of the vanished sea and possible rescue.

      On the third morning I found the soil dry enough to walk upon with ease. The odour of the fish was maddening; but I was too much concerned with graver things to mind so slight an evil, and set out boldly for an unknown goal. All day I forged steadily westward, guided by a far-away hummock which rose higher than any other elevation on the rolling desert. That night I encamped, and on the following day still travelled toward the hummock, though that object seemed scarcely nearer than when I had first espied it. By the fourth evening I attained the base of the mound, which turned out to be much higher than it had appeared from a distance; an intervening valley setting it out in sharper relief from the general surface. Too weary to ascend, I slept in the shadow of the hill.

      I know not why my dreams were so wild that night; but ere the waning and fantastically gibbous moon had risen far above the eastern plain, I was awake in a cold perspiration, determined to sleep no more. Such visions as I had experienced were too much for me to endure again. And in the glow of the moon I saw how unwise I had been to travel by day. Without the glare of the parching sun, my journey would have cost me less energy; indeed, I now felt quite able to perform the ascent which had deterred me at sunset. Picking up my pack, I started for the crest of the eminence.

      I