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Comet, v. 1, issue 3, May-June 1940
Page 7
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THE COMET PAGE 7 --HORROR'S CELLAR-- your right mind?" Rather brutal tactics, I'm sure, but they were the correct ones, I thought at the time. Knowing him as I did, I was sure that this was merely a product of his imagination--possibly even a night mare. And I didn't believe his reason had snapped, either---if it had, it was unlikely he would spend time standing talking to me. Maybe he was just a little irrational at the moment, however--- "Well, if you insist, I'll be right out." I snapped at lenght. "Whom do you want me to bring along--a doctor?" His reply nearly deafened me. "No!" he screamed, with his every ounce of strenght. "No one--don't bring anyone. No one must know-- if you're too late, a doctor won't do any good, and if you get here in time you might be able to save me--to let me get away--" [[Paragraph is originally at bottom of the page but meant to be inserted in this section of the story]]His voice had been rising in a steady crescendo of terror--and now it suddenly broke off completely. There was silence for an instant--for a long instant, until I began jiggling the hook, believing myself cut off from him. He must have heard me, for his voice came back over the wire, low, with a violently suppressed emotion. NOTICE: THIS PARAGRAPH WAS LEFT OUT FROM WHERE THE ARROW POINTS...... SORRY.... -Editor.. "No--I'm still here, Morten," he muttered, "But I know what I'll do! I'll go and break the door---I'll see what's there! You needn't drag yourself into this---" his voice began to become very shrill-- "you stay out. I don't want you here--I began this and I'll have to see it through! Just forget that I ever called you----just forget--it's best you do--or else you might come out here and find--" There was a thud. I stood looking dumbly at the 'phone, a little frightened. Either Morton's reason had snapped completely, leaving him raving like a wild beast----or else something too horrible to think was occuring. I knew then, for the first time, that no sane man could become so terrified by a mere nightmare of ever-excited imagination. That final monologue of his had been too intense--too real-- And what was the meaning of that thud? Had Morton dropped over unconscious? Or had he gone to carry out his sudden wild resolve, whatever it might have been, and--and what? I knew the house he lived in. An old, rambling structur, set back from the road by a good two hundred yards, and completely free fro m all dwellings for possibly a quarter mile. Whatever was happening there was happening unseen by any intruding eyes---that was almost sure. I'm not certain just how long I stood there. It might have been but a second or so; with all these wild thoughts flashing through me, or again it might have been full minutes. From later discovery, it seems likely it was at least sixty seconds, and in all probability longer, until I heard-- It was another thud--ore more than a thud--a crash. I know that a crash over a telephone just simply isn't---or at least it would seem
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THE COMET PAGE 7 --HORROR'S CELLAR-- your right mind?" Rather brutal tactics, I'm sure, but they were the correct ones, I thought at the time. Knowing him as I did, I was sure that this was merely a product of his imagination--possibly even a night mare. And I didn't believe his reason had snapped, either---if it had, it was unlikely he would spend time standing talking to me. Maybe he was just a little irrational at the moment, however--- "Well, if you insist, I'll be right out." I snapped at lenght. "Whom do you want me to bring along--a doctor?" His reply nearly deafened me. "No!" he screamed, with his every ounce of strenght. "No one--don't bring anyone. No one must know-- if you're too late, a doctor won't do any good, and if you get here in time you might be able to save me--to let me get away--" [[Paragraph is originally at bottom of the page but meant to be inserted in this section of the story]]His voice had been rising in a steady crescendo of terror--and now it suddenly broke off completely. There was silence for an instant--for a long instant, until I began jiggling the hook, believing myself cut off from him. He must have heard me, for his voice came back over the wire, low, with a violently suppressed emotion. NOTICE: THIS PARAGRAPH WAS LEFT OUT FROM WHERE THE ARROW POINTS...... SORRY.... -Editor.. "No--I'm still here, Morten," he muttered, "But I know what I'll do! I'll go and break the door---I'll see what's there! You needn't drag yourself into this---" his voice began to become very shrill-- "you stay out. I don't want you here--I began this and I'll have to see it through! Just forget that I ever called you----just forget--it's best you do--or else you might come out here and find--" There was a thud. I stood looking dumbly at the 'phone, a little frightened. Either Morton's reason had snapped completely, leaving him raving like a wild beast----or else something too horrible to think was occuring. I knew then, for the first time, that no sane man could become so terrified by a mere nightmare of ever-excited imagination. That final monologue of his had been too intense--too real-- And what was the meaning of that thud? Had Morton dropped over unconscious? Or had he gone to carry out his sudden wild resolve, whatever it might have been, and--and what? I knew the house he lived in. An old, rambling structur, set back from the road by a good two hundred yards, and completely free fro m all dwellings for possibly a quarter mile. Whatever was happening there was happening unseen by any intruding eyes---that was almost sure. I'm not certain just how long I stood there. It might have been but a second or so; with all these wild thoughts flashing through me, or again it might have been full minutes. From later discovery, it seems likely it was at least sixty seconds, and in all probability longer, until I heard-- It was another thud--ore more than a thud--a crash. I know that a crash over a telephone just simply isn't---or at least it would seem
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