Read Online Dreams from the Witch House: Female Voices of Lovecraftian Horror by Joyce Carol Oates, Nancy Kilpatrick, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Storm Constantine, Molly Tanzer, Lois H. Gresh, Gemma Files, Karen Heuler - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joyce Carol Oates, Nancy Kilpatrick, Caitlin R. Kiernan, Storm Constantine, Molly Tanzer, Lois H. Gresh, Gemma Files, Karen Heuler
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were pushing Arpad's eyes from his head.
Tefere, trembling with sudden weakness and terror, felt that he was in some nightmare. He could not believe the story Arpad had told him. Assuring himself that his companion had been ill throughout with the incubation of some strange fever, he stooped over and found that the horn-shaped lump on Arpad's head had now broken through the skin.
Surreality took over as he stared at the object that his prying fingers had revealed amid the matted hair. It was unmistakably a plant-bud of some sort, with folds of pale green and bloody pink that seemed about to expand. The thing issued from above the center of the skull.
Nausea swept upon Tefere and he recoiled from the lolling head, averting his gaze. His fever was returning, there was a deep ache in all his limbs and his eyes blurred with a miasmal mist.
He fought to subdue his illness. He could not give way to it; he had to fight on, stay with Arpad and the guides until they reached the nearest trading station.
Through sheer determination his eyes cleared and he felt a resurgence of strength. He looked around for the guides and saw, with a start, that they had vanished. Peering further, he observed that the dugout used by the guides had also disappeared. He and Arpad had been deserted. Perhaps the guides had known what was wrong with the sick man and had been afraid. They were gone, and had taken much of the camp equipment and most of the provisions with them.
Tefere turned once more to the body of Arpad, quelling his repugnance. Resolutely he drew out his clasp knife and, stooping over the stricken man, he excised the protruding bud, cutting as close to the scalp as he could with safety. The thing was unnaturally tough and rubbery; it exuded a thin, sanguineous fluid and Tefere shuddered when he saw its internal structure, full of nerve-like filaments, with a core that suggested cartilage.
He flung it aside, quickly, on the river sand. Then, lifting Arpad in his arms, he lurched and staggered toward the remaining boat. Alternately carrying and dragging his burden, Tefere reached the boat at last. With the remainder of his failing strength he propped Arpad in the stern against the pile of equipment.
Tefere's fever was mounting apace. After much delay and with tedious, half-delirious exertions, he pushed off from the shore and rowed intermittently until the fever mastered him wholly and the oar slipped from oblivious fingers…
Tefere awoke in the yellow glare of dawn, his senses comparatively clear. His illness had left a great languor, but his first thought was of Arpad. He twisted about and sat facing his companion.
Arpad still reclined, half sitting, half lying against the pile of blankets. His knees were drawn up, his hands clasping them as if in rigor. His features had grown as stark and ghastly as those of a dead man; however, the thing that caused Tefere to gasp with horror was –
During the interim of Tefere's delirium and his lapse into slumber, the monstrous plant bud had grown again with rapidity from Arpad's head. A loathsome pale-green stem was mounting thickly and had started to branch like antlers after attaining a height of six or seven inches.
More than this, similar growths had issued from the eyes and their stems, climbing vertically across the forehead, had entirely displaced the eyeballs. They were branching like the thing from the crown. The antlers were all tipped with pale vermilion. They quivered, nodding rhythmically in the warm, windless air. From the mouth another stem protruded, curling upward like a long and whitish tongue. It had not yet begun to divide.
Tefere closed his eyes to shut out the sight. In his mind’s eye, he still saw the cadaverous features, the climbing stems that quivered against the dawn like ghastly hydras. They seemed to be waving toward him, growing and lengthening as they did so. His eyes snapped open with a start of new terror—that the antlers were actually taller than
Tefere, trembling with sudden weakness and terror, felt that he was in some nightmare. He could not believe the story Arpad had told him. Assuring himself that his companion had been ill throughout with the incubation of some strange fever, he stooped over and found that the horn-shaped lump on Arpad's head had now broken through the skin.
Surreality took over as he stared at the object that his prying fingers had revealed amid the matted hair. It was unmistakably a plant-bud of some sort, with folds of pale green and bloody pink that seemed about to expand. The thing issued from above the center of the skull.
Nausea swept upon Tefere and he recoiled from the lolling head, averting his gaze. His fever was returning, there was a deep ache in all his limbs and his eyes blurred with a miasmal mist.
He fought to subdue his illness. He could not give way to it; he had to fight on, stay with Arpad and the guides until they reached the nearest trading station.
Through sheer determination his eyes cleared and he felt a resurgence of strength. He looked around for the guides and saw, with a start, that they had vanished. Peering further, he observed that the dugout used by the guides had also disappeared. He and Arpad had been deserted. Perhaps the guides had known what was wrong with the sick man and had been afraid. They were gone, and had taken much of the camp equipment and most of the provisions with them.
Tefere turned once more to the body of Arpad, quelling his repugnance. Resolutely he drew out his clasp knife and, stooping over the stricken man, he excised the protruding bud, cutting as close to the scalp as he could with safety. The thing was unnaturally tough and rubbery; it exuded a thin, sanguineous fluid and Tefere shuddered when he saw its internal structure, full of nerve-like filaments, with a core that suggested cartilage.
He flung it aside, quickly, on the river sand. Then, lifting Arpad in his arms, he lurched and staggered toward the remaining boat. Alternately carrying and dragging his burden, Tefere reached the boat at last. With the remainder of his failing strength he propped Arpad in the stern against the pile of equipment.
Tefere's fever was mounting apace. After much delay and with tedious, half-delirious exertions, he pushed off from the shore and rowed intermittently until the fever mastered him wholly and the oar slipped from oblivious fingers…
Tefere awoke in the yellow glare of dawn, his senses comparatively clear. His illness had left a great languor, but his first thought was of Arpad. He twisted about and sat facing his companion.
Arpad still reclined, half sitting, half lying against the pile of blankets. His knees were drawn up, his hands clasping them as if in rigor. His features had grown as stark and ghastly as those of a dead man; however, the thing that caused Tefere to gasp with horror was –
During the interim of Tefere's delirium and his lapse into slumber, the monstrous plant bud had grown again with rapidity from Arpad's head. A loathsome pale-green stem was mounting thickly and had started to branch like antlers after attaining a height of six or seven inches.
More than this, similar growths had issued from the eyes and their stems, climbing vertically across the forehead, had entirely displaced the eyeballs. They were branching like the thing from the crown. The antlers were all tipped with pale vermilion. They quivered, nodding rhythmically in the warm, windless air. From the mouth another stem protruded, curling upward like a long and whitish tongue. It had not yet begun to divide.
Tefere closed his eyes to shut out the sight. In his mind’s eye, he still saw the cadaverous features, the climbing stems that quivered against the dawn like ghastly hydras. They seemed to be waving toward him, growing and lengthening as they did so. His eyes snapped open with a start of new terror—that the antlers were actually taller than
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