Read Online Final Reckonings by Robert Bloch - Free Book Online Page A

dressed, prepared breakfast, took Barsac's tray upstairs, returned to the castle chambers below, and began to plan anew.
    Madman or genius, Barsac would die. He had to die. Suppose he were really doing what he claimed? Suppose he actually managed to create animals with human physical attributes and with human minds? Minds like Barsac's mind.
    Wouldn't that be the ultimate horror? And shouldn't that horror be avoided, stamped out?
    Of course. He, Jerome, would save humanity from this monstrous affront to the laws of life. He would do the deed as he had planned, by shock. Tonight.
    Yes, tonight. He'd short the electrical current in the castle, go up to the laboratory in the dark, and shock Barsac to death. Never lay a hand on him. A simple plan, and it would succeed. It must succeed.
    Jerome knew it must succeed by late afternoon—for when the vibrations sounded from above he realized he couldn't wait much longer. He couldn't stand the sound or the visions it conjured up. Barsac, draining his soul into the bodies of a horde of animals — it was impossible to bear the thought.
    What were the animals? Not rats, he had said. Jerome remembered the rats. Barsac had refused to show him the other monstrosities. He only showed the rats with the deformed paws. The paws with the missing finger or missing claw.
    Jerome prepared dinner and laughed. His apprehensions faded away with the memory of his dream.
    The paws. Of course! How foolish he was, letting Barsac's crazy talk and the morbid atmosphere of the castle affect him. Because of that and a few bad dreams he'd tricked himself into swallowing the grotesque claims of an obvious lunatic.
    There was a machine — but any lunatic, given the funds and a scientific training, can build an imposing machine. That didn't prove that it actually worked as Barsac claimed it did.
    There had been no other monstrosities for Jerome to see — for they didn't exist. Barsac's talk about previous experiments was merely talk.
    There were the rats, but what of it? Barsac had been cunning. He had taken twenty rats, killed them, and removed their individual claws on the left forepaws.
    That was all there was to it.
    Barsac was crazy, and there was nothing to fear.
    Doctor Jerome laughed again. That made it easier. He would kill the madman and take over. No more nightmares, no more fears. His laughter blended with the thunder.
    A storm was breaking. It shattered in fury over the castle, and the rumbling swallowed the noise of the vibrations from the laboratory upstairs.
    Jerome peered out of the window as jagged lightning slithered between the mountain crags.
    The thunder grew louder.
    Doctor Jerome turned back to get Barsac's tray ready. Then he paused.
    "Why bother?" he whispered. Yes, why bother? Why wait any longer? He'd go upstairs now, shut off all the lights, knock on the laboratory door. Barsac would appear, expecting his dinner tray. Instead, he'd dine on death.
    Yes. He'd do it now, while the resolution held.
    As the thunder mounted, Doctor Jerome walked up the stairs on his grim errand.
    Lightning flickered as he reached the second landing. Jerome moved toward the switch panel on the wall. Then came the blinding bolt, and as thunder followed, the lights went out.
    The storm had struck. It was an omen. Jerome exulted.
    Now he moved up the spiral staircase leading to the laboratory landing at the top of the great castle tower. He groped his way slowly, in utter darkness, tensing himself for the moment when he would reach the oaken door and knock.
    Then he listened, above the howling of the storm, for the vibrations from behind the door.
    They had ceased, abruptly, when the lightning struck.
    Jerome reached the top of the stairway. He edged toward the door. He was ready, now —
    The door opened, swiftly.
    Doctor Jerome heard Barsac's labored breathing.
    "Jerome!" called Barsac. The voice was faint, but filled with overtones of triumph. "Jerome — where are you? I've succeeded, Jerome, I've