And the will therein lieth, which dieth not. Who knoweth the mysteries of the
will, with its vigor? For God is but a great will pervading all things by nature of
its intentness. Man doth not yield himself to the angels, nor unto death utterly,
save only through the weakness of his feeble will.
Joseph Glanvill
The people on the block decided definitely that Jules was crazy when they heard about his composition.
Out of the singed heart of cosmic horror, and electrifying arcs of slime, we introduce you to the terrifying dimensions of the mortal immortal, Isaac Abramovitch in “The Masque of Death”.
William Blake captured Isaac’s nightmarish world so poignantly in the verses below.
Cruelty has a Human Heart
And Jealousy a Human Face
Terror, the Human Form Divine
And Secrecy, the Human Dress
The Human Dress, is forged Iron
The Human Form, a fiery Forge.
The Human Face, a Furnace seal’d
The Human Heart, its hungry Gorge –William Blake (A Divine Image)
Follow on children of horror through winding, spiraling, dark dimensions as we journey ever on into thunderheads on sandy shores, shadowed waterways, fog-foetid bayous, and amongst the darkness of decayed swamp without torch, flashlight, or candle flame with only electric arcs to light our way.
Those distant, shadowed whispers you hear are nothing to fear. And the tentacle monstrosity climbing out of a ripped dimension circling you can’t be a d—, or can they? There’s no such thing of course.
It snatched beyond his reach at one fell swoop all that he most loved and enjoyed, destroying a thousand dreams, and painting the future a dull drab colour without hope. He was an idealist at heart, hating the sordid routine of the life he led as a business underling. His dreams were of the open air, of mountains, forests, and great plains, of the sea, and of the lonely
places of the world.
A sailor without rudder or compass, tossed on a stormy sea–a traveller lost on a wide-spread heath, without landmark or star to him–such have I been: more lost, more hopeless than either. A nearing ship, a gleam from some far cot, may save them; but I have no beacon except the hope of death.
The Opener of the Way is a collection of fantasy and horror short stories written by Robert Bloch. It was published by Arkham House and released in 1945. This was the author’s first book. Stephen King listed the anthology “The Opener of the Way” as one of Arkham House’s “most important works”. Authors Stephen Jones and Kim […]
Immortality at a cost is a theme that has long intrigued me. Battling the forces of time to reset the mortality clock has so many levels of exploration. You could literally get lost in the concept. I wanted to approach this from a perspective of a man’s desperation and ignorance to the forces he was […]
Jeffrey LeBlanc 