Read Online Final Reckonings by Robert Bloch - Free Book Online
Authors: Robert Bloch
Tags: Horror Anthology
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remained was the deed. Mad Barsac would lie here on the last empty slab, and it would be ended.
Doctor Jerome ascended the stairs slowly. He went out and walked through the hills, returning only at dusk. He had wrestled with temptation and put it aside. There was no thought of putting poison in the food he took upstairs at dinner. He left the tray outside the laboratory door and knocked. He descended quickly before Barsac opened the door, and ate a solitary supper in the great castle kitchen below.
He was resigned to waiting, now. After all, in a few weeks Barsac might die a natural death. Meanwhile, let his work go on. Perhaps he might succeed.
Jerome listened to the reverberation from the laboratory above his head.
A steady humming sounded, accompanied by a rhythmic pulsing. Barsac must be in his cabinet now, working the focal prism and hypnotizing himself and his animals. Doctor Jerome wondered what sort of animals he was using in these "improved" experiments.
On second thought he didn't care to know. The vibrations were beginning to affect his nerves. He decided to turn in early. One more day and it would be over. If he could get a good night's sleep, now, his morbid fancies would vanish.
Accordingly, Jerome ascended to bed, switching off the lights as he proceeded down the hall. He undressed, donned pajamas, plunged the castle bedroom into darkness, and sought sleep.
Sleep came.
And then Barsac came. He wheeled in the cabinet, the great metal cabinet, and once again his bright eyes caught and captured Jerome's astonished stare. Jerome's will slipped away and he entered the cabinet. He was clamped into the seat as a prisoner is clamped in the electric chair. Like a prisoner, Jerome knew he was facing the execution of a death sentence. Yet his will was a prisoner—and now, as Barsac turned the dials, his soul was imprisoned, too.
Jerome stared through the great glass prism that loomed before his eyes. He could not look away, for the gigantic lens was in itself a hypnotic agent, pulling at his retina, impelling him to gaze ahead into the hugely magnified world of the focal field. He waited for the animals to appear in the field — but there were no animals.
There was only Barsac. For suddenly a great face loomed through the glass — a monstrous face with the bulging eyes of Barsac, and the great domed forehead.
Barsac was smiling and his yellow teeth were exposed, but Jerome could only see the eyes. The eyes that glared and pulled at his own eyes, at his brain behind them. Pulled his being into the glass, for as the humming rose insanely about him, Doctor Jerome felt himself plunging forward. His body was clamped to the seat, but his soul soared through the weird prism and lost itself in Barsac's mad eyes —
Doctor Jerome awoke. It was daylight at last, but he did not sit up to greet its coming. He felt weak, drained.
Drained .
A dreadful suspicion was forming in Jerome's mind. He knew that he had dreamed — but he did not know what he hadn't dreamed. Could it be that there was a distorted truth in his symbolic nightmare?
Was Barsac lying to him? Perhaps his machine could drain some of the vital essence from a man's soul. Perhaps Barsac wanted him to assist in the experiments so that a part of his soul would be removed — not to be incorporated into animals, but into Barsac! Hypnotic, scientific vampirism!
Had Barsac been in this room last night while he slept and dreamed? Had Barsac hypnotized him in his sleep, seeking to snare his soul? Something had happened. Jerome felt weak.
And then he was strong—strong with sudden purpose. The thoughts of yesterday came back, but they came now as a resolution. He would kill Barsac, today.
He would kill him before he died himself. He would kill Barsac because he was a madman, because his experiments were blasphemous, because he deserved to die.
Doctor Jerome would kill Barsac for the sake of science.
That was it. For the sake of science.
Doctor Jerome rose,
Doctor Jerome ascended the stairs slowly. He went out and walked through the hills, returning only at dusk. He had wrestled with temptation and put it aside. There was no thought of putting poison in the food he took upstairs at dinner. He left the tray outside the laboratory door and knocked. He descended quickly before Barsac opened the door, and ate a solitary supper in the great castle kitchen below.
He was resigned to waiting, now. After all, in a few weeks Barsac might die a natural death. Meanwhile, let his work go on. Perhaps he might succeed.
Jerome listened to the reverberation from the laboratory above his head.
A steady humming sounded, accompanied by a rhythmic pulsing. Barsac must be in his cabinet now, working the focal prism and hypnotizing himself and his animals. Doctor Jerome wondered what sort of animals he was using in these "improved" experiments.
On second thought he didn't care to know. The vibrations were beginning to affect his nerves. He decided to turn in early. One more day and it would be over. If he could get a good night's sleep, now, his morbid fancies would vanish.
Accordingly, Jerome ascended to bed, switching off the lights as he proceeded down the hall. He undressed, donned pajamas, plunged the castle bedroom into darkness, and sought sleep.
Sleep came.
And then Barsac came. He wheeled in the cabinet, the great metal cabinet, and once again his bright eyes caught and captured Jerome's astonished stare. Jerome's will slipped away and he entered the cabinet. He was clamped into the seat as a prisoner is clamped in the electric chair. Like a prisoner, Jerome knew he was facing the execution of a death sentence. Yet his will was a prisoner—and now, as Barsac turned the dials, his soul was imprisoned, too.
Jerome stared through the great glass prism that loomed before his eyes. He could not look away, for the gigantic lens was in itself a hypnotic agent, pulling at his retina, impelling him to gaze ahead into the hugely magnified world of the focal field. He waited for the animals to appear in the field — but there were no animals.
There was only Barsac. For suddenly a great face loomed through the glass — a monstrous face with the bulging eyes of Barsac, and the great domed forehead.
Barsac was smiling and his yellow teeth were exposed, but Jerome could only see the eyes. The eyes that glared and pulled at his own eyes, at his brain behind them. Pulled his being into the glass, for as the humming rose insanely about him, Doctor Jerome felt himself plunging forward. His body was clamped to the seat, but his soul soared through the weird prism and lost itself in Barsac's mad eyes —
Doctor Jerome awoke. It was daylight at last, but he did not sit up to greet its coming. He felt weak, drained.
Drained .
A dreadful suspicion was forming in Jerome's mind. He knew that he had dreamed — but he did not know what he hadn't dreamed. Could it be that there was a distorted truth in his symbolic nightmare?
Was Barsac lying to him? Perhaps his machine could drain some of the vital essence from a man's soul. Perhaps Barsac wanted him to assist in the experiments so that a part of his soul would be removed — not to be incorporated into animals, but into Barsac! Hypnotic, scientific vampirism!
Had Barsac been in this room last night while he slept and dreamed? Had Barsac hypnotized him in his sleep, seeking to snare his soul? Something had happened. Jerome felt weak.
And then he was strong—strong with sudden purpose. The thoughts of yesterday came back, but they came now as a resolution. He would kill Barsac, today.
He would kill him before he died himself. He would kill Barsac because he was a madman, because his experiments were blasphemous, because he deserved to die.
Doctor Jerome would kill Barsac for the sake of science.
That was it. For the sake of science.
Doctor Jerome rose,
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