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Acolyte, v. 2, issue 3, whole no. 7, Summer 1944
Page 20
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THE SMALL, DARK THING by Duane W. Rimel -o0o- "Come down to earth, man. Corpses don't go about stabbing people to death, least of all with needles." I coughed and rustled the sheets of manuscript. When Russel Sanders observed that I was serious, his smile faded. He took out his pipe and loaded it. We were seated in my study that cool spring evening. The table between us displayed several sheets of yellow paper covered with long-hand, and two newspaper clippings. "I didn't mean precisely that, Sanders. But I do think Carver had his revenge on Buillit, even though Carver was buried two weeks before Bullit died. And I think Carver was there himself...." "I don't believe in ghosts, Andy." "Perhaps you won't have to when you read this diary. I found it among Carver's belongings (which went to me according to his will) in his lake-side cabin at Waha, where he was discovered the twentieth of May. His body had a large, unhealed scar on its right side, below the ribs. The first clipping tells about that. "Incidentally, the doctors weren't sure what he died of. The second clipping gives an account of Bullit's death. Both have curious aspects, as you will notice when you read them. Doctor Bullit was found in his garage about two a. m., barely a week ago. He had been stabbed all over, as if by a long needle or hat-pin. "Now I want you to read Carver's diary and see if you think the way I do. Perhaps I'm prejudiced because he and I were such fast friends. I want to get your candid opinion." Sanders gathered up the yellow sheets and began to read. ---------- May 2, 1940---Clara had announced our engagement, and I am as happy as any mortal ever was, save for that one shadow which hovers between us--that thing with which I am accursed. I am afraid to tell her about it. Of all my friends, Anderson is the only one who knows. My parents did, of course, but they're gone forever. It is fortunate they never saw me grow up.... I must have an operation before we are married--that is vital. But I am afraid of that, too. The conflict is giving me the jitters. It must be done. Bullit says the removal will be simple. The mechanics of the operation should be easy for a surgeon of his remarkable ability, but he doesn't understand the psychological phases of the situation. He doesn't realize how attached I've become to it these long years, how much a part of my very being it really is. For all I know the thing may contain a segment of my very soul. I cannot say; I am no doctor or magician. have an appointment with Bullit tomorrow. I am afraid he will insist on an operation immediately, if I am to be completely well by the last of June. May 3---Went to Bullit's office, and he gave me the ultimatum. It has to be done very soon. Tomorrow it will be over, and with the grace of God, I'll begin the first instalment in my book of future happiness. It will seem strange living without that thing. And I am afraid the removal will leave a scar, perhaps more psychic than physical. It is worth the risk, however. Bullit should know if anyone does. He says it isn't really alive; merely an abnormal growth. He says there is no secret or mysterious bond between the thing and me. I -- 20 --
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THE SMALL, DARK THING by Duane W. Rimel -o0o- "Come down to earth, man. Corpses don't go about stabbing people to death, least of all with needles." I coughed and rustled the sheets of manuscript. When Russel Sanders observed that I was serious, his smile faded. He took out his pipe and loaded it. We were seated in my study that cool spring evening. The table between us displayed several sheets of yellow paper covered with long-hand, and two newspaper clippings. "I didn't mean precisely that, Sanders. But I do think Carver had his revenge on Buillit, even though Carver was buried two weeks before Bullit died. And I think Carver was there himself...." "I don't believe in ghosts, Andy." "Perhaps you won't have to when you read this diary. I found it among Carver's belongings (which went to me according to his will) in his lake-side cabin at Waha, where he was discovered the twentieth of May. His body had a large, unhealed scar on its right side, below the ribs. The first clipping tells about that. "Incidentally, the doctors weren't sure what he died of. The second clipping gives an account of Bullit's death. Both have curious aspects, as you will notice when you read them. Doctor Bullit was found in his garage about two a. m., barely a week ago. He had been stabbed all over, as if by a long needle or hat-pin. "Now I want you to read Carver's diary and see if you think the way I do. Perhaps I'm prejudiced because he and I were such fast friends. I want to get your candid opinion." Sanders gathered up the yellow sheets and began to read. ---------- May 2, 1940---Clara had announced our engagement, and I am as happy as any mortal ever was, save for that one shadow which hovers between us--that thing with which I am accursed. I am afraid to tell her about it. Of all my friends, Anderson is the only one who knows. My parents did, of course, but they're gone forever. It is fortunate they never saw me grow up.... I must have an operation before we are married--that is vital. But I am afraid of that, too. The conflict is giving me the jitters. It must be done. Bullit says the removal will be simple. The mechanics of the operation should be easy for a surgeon of his remarkable ability, but he doesn't understand the psychological phases of the situation. He doesn't realize how attached I've become to it these long years, how much a part of my very being it really is. For all I know the thing may contain a segment of my very soul. I cannot say; I am no doctor or magician. have an appointment with Bullit tomorrow. I am afraid he will insist on an operation immediately, if I am to be completely well by the last of June. May 3---Went to Bullit's office, and he gave me the ultimatum. It has to be done very soon. Tomorrow it will be over, and with the grace of God, I'll begin the first instalment in my book of future happiness. It will seem strange living without that thing. And I am afraid the removal will leave a scar, perhaps more psychic than physical. It is worth the risk, however. Bullit should know if anyone does. He says it isn't really alive; merely an abnormal growth. He says there is no secret or mysterious bond between the thing and me. I -- 20 --
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