“In literature I have walked the midnight paths with Poe or crept amidst the shadows with
Machen; combed the realms of horrific stars with Baudelaire, or steeped myself with earth’s inner madness amidst the tales of ancient lore.” –Robert Bloch (The Shambler From the Stars)
“The sun had set Blood Mountain ablaze with evening light. Long shadows stretched across the landscape of the forest. Ancient and mysterious was this mountain in the twilight. Dwindling shimmers of light illuminated briefly a rugged path that winded further and further up into the vastness of hardwoods and hemlock. Oh, how I shivered and glanced uneasily over my shoulder. Growing fear knocked at my chamber door in the growing quiet of this place. Miles behind me lay the nearest ranger’s outpost—thousands of miles ahead of me lay the expanse of the Appalachian Trail.”–Jeffrey LeBlanc
A shivery tale of WOLF DAHLGREN and his gruesome adventure with a great WOLF that trailed him through the arctic wastes!-WT
If a WEREWOLF is slain as a MAN, then his half soul will haunt his slayer forever!!–Robert E. Howard (In the Forest of Villefere)
He spake in wonder, not in fear:
“How walks a man who died?
“Friend of old times, what do ye here,
“Long fallen at my side?”
“Rise up, rise up,” Sir Richard said,
“The hounds of doom are free;
“The slayers come to take your head
“To hang on the ju-ju tree.
“Swift feet press the jungle mud
“Where the shadows are grim and stark,
“And naked men who pant for blood
“Are racing through the dark.”–Robert E Howard (The Return of Sir Richard Grenville)
“You asked me to explain why I am afraid of a draught of cool air; why I shiver more than others upon entering a cold room, and seem nauseated and repelled when the chill of evening creeps through the heat of a mild autumn day. There are those who say I respond to cold as others do to a bad odour, and I am the last to deny the impression. What I will do is to relate the most horrible circumstance I ever encountered, and leave it to you to judge whether or not this forms a suitable explanation of my peculiarity.”–H. P. Lovecraft
“The very darkness seemed alive, incredibly remote from the life of Providence which swirled all around it.”–The Survivor
Vision or nightmare it may have been—vision or nightmare I fervently hope it was—yet it is all that my mind retains of what took place in those shocking hours after we left the sight of men. And why Harley Warren did not return, he or his shade—or some nameless thing I cannot describe—alone can tell.–H. P. Lovecraft
Night, black as pitch and filled with the wailing of a dead wind, sank like a shapeless specter into the oily waters of the Indian Ocean, leaving a great gray expanse of sullen sea, empty except for a solitary speck that rose and dropped in the long swell.–“Stragella” Hugh B. Cave
Can Graham Dean stop his California dreaming of the ominous dark sea? Or will he fall prey to the black kiss of the deadly dream weaver–Morella Godolfo? –JL
“I wonder what he thought,
that wretched, unnamed boy
with his sieve under his arm
and his pockets bulging with
an odd conglomerate of sandy
tourist coins, what he thought
when he saw me lurching at
him like a blind conductor
stretching out his hands over
a lunatic orchestra, what he
thought as the last of the light
fell across my hands, red and
split and shining with their
burden of eyes, what he
thought when the hands made
that sudden, flailing gesture
in the air, just before his head
burst.
I know what I thought.
I thought I had peeked over
the rim of the universe and
into the fires of hell itself.”–Stephen King (I Am The Doorway)
Above all was the sense of hearing acute. I heard all things in the heaven and in the earth. I heard many things in hell.–Edgar Allan Poe
“I know always that I am an outsider; a stranger in this century and among those who are still men.”–H.P. Lovecraft
I had faced death and weighed my chances in many a desperate venture, but never in one of this nature. I can swear I am no coward, yet this proposition of journeying back and forth across the borderland of death put the yellow fear upon me. –Jack London
A shuddery story of a ghastly charnel crypt in a weird cave in the hills of Cornwall!–Weird Tales
Jeffrey LeBlanc 