Tag: horrortales

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‘John leaned in and almost whispered, “And one more thing Dale that gives me the jitters. I figure, probably the longer a brujo is a skinwalker, the lesser their humanity. Devoid of empathy, of kindness, and of love, their evil master fills the brujo’s very heart and soul with infinite forbidden knowledge, and intoxicating, malignant power to do whatever unspeakable acts of mischief and violence this demoniac entity demands. A skinwalker commits tortured acts so heinous that they break our will spiritually, and mentally before we pray for death.’

—Thomas Swafford (Skinwalker)

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Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”–Edgar Allan Poe (The Raven)

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‘So at first she thought it was just a trick of shadows or some flaw in the glass. The wavering outline behind her seemed to blur the reflection oddly, and she frowned. Then she began to experience what she often thought of as her “married feeling”—the peculiar awareness which usually denoted her husband’s unseen entrance into a room she occupied.’–Robert Bloch (The Hungry House)

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“Child’s play,” he muttered, and looked wearily, longingly at me,—as if I could answer such questions! But Jack Scott came in and entered into the “game,” as he called it, with ardour. Nothing would do but to try the experiment on the white rabbit then and there. I was willing that Boris should find distraction from his cares, but I hated to see the life go out of a warm, living creature and I declined to be present. Picking up a book at random, I sat down in the studio to read. Alas! I had found The King in Yellow.’–Robert W. Chambers (The King in Yellow: The Mask)

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There was no moon. What a night! I was frightened, horribly frightened in these narrow paths, between two rows of graves. Graves! Graves! Graves! Nothing but graves! On my right, on my left, in front of me, around me, everywhere there were graves! I sat down on one of them, for I could not walk any longer, my knees were so weak. I could hear my heart beat! And I heard something else as well. What?.—Henri Rene Albert Guy de Maupassant (Was it a Dream?)