“Unquenched, unquenchable,
Around, within, thy heart shall dwell;
Nor ear can hear nor tongue can tell
The tortures of that inward hell!
But first, on earth as vampire sent,
Thy corse shall from its tomb be rent:–Lord Byron (The Vampyre)
I had a dream, which was not all a dream.
The bright sun was extinguish’d, and the stars
Did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless, and the icy earth
Swung blind and blackening in the moonless air;–Lord Byron (Darkness)
Long were the mansion’s mysteries, horrendous were its horrors, and vague were the details of the missing and presumed dead across the mansion grounds. For the past, and the forgetful dead had now hidden much of the sinister, and fogged the memory of the evil that had scorched the manor with a more devious name—Hell’s Forge. Jeffrey LeBlanc (Hell’s Forge)
Mighty is the storm that rages in the sky; but it is as nothing to the storm that rages in the heart of the murderer. —George Thomas Spillman (Retribution)
“Juliette entered her bedroom, smiling, and a thousand Juliettes smiled back at her.”–Robert Bloch (A Toy For Juliette)
“Well, when he hopped over the fence, the bag caught on the top strand of wire and fell back in the parking lot. I picked it up later and what do you suppose I found inside?’
“I have no idea” I told him. “Don’t keep me in suspense!”
“Dirt!” He answered. “Just plain dirt. Earth dirt.”—Joseph Payne Brennan (Who Was He?)
“Nimuk came closer. Noni saw fear in the animal’s gaze. He could see hunger and suffering in the animal’s labored breathing and awkward movements. Noni’s heart wept. He hated himself and fought against it.”—Hugh B. Cave (Two Were Left)
“Omar Khayyam was right: Hell is the reflection of a soul burning.”–John H. Green (Seven Men in a Tank)
A shuddery weird tale of Hollywood and the film industry—a story of the gruesome thing that emerged from the burial crypt.–WT 1938
Another horrific tale by Robert Bloch sure to make your skin crawl!-JL
When Lazarus left the grave, where, for three days and three nights he had been under the enigmatical sway of death, and returned alive to his dwelling, for a long time no one noticed in him those sinister oddities, which, as time went on, made his very name a terror.
In that same silver paradise of shimmering night, as an alligator bellowed, mosquitoes hummed, and green tree frogs chirped….a million crickets rubbed their wings together and sang.–JL
Stately, stoic is said of thee,
Wisest of the wise may he be…
Jeffrey LeBlanc 