Read Online Night Things: A Novel of Supernatural Terror by Michael Talbot - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Michael Talbot
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the time he had walked about halfway through he was overcome with such a feeling of dizziness he had to veer sharply to the left and collapse onto one of the sofas. At first he thought he might be coming down with something, but then he remembered the sitting room on the first floor that had made them all feel dizzy, and he examined the room’s architecture once again.
As he had suspected, careful scrutiny revealed that the floor, walls, and ceiling were all slightly askew. Indeed, its geometry was even more out of kilter than the sitting room’s. But what rendered its pronounced distortion invisible to the human eye was that everything, from the carving in the oak panels to the length of the legs on the furniture, had been carefully designed and reproportioned to conceal this fact.
Giggling with delight at such trickery, he stood and started through the room again. But again the room started to spin around him, and before he realized what was happening he was lurching headlong toward one of the doors. He lunged for the knob and blundered through. Inside he suddenly found himself face to face with a wild boar. Terrified, he screamed and started to run, but in his panic he tripped and fell over his own feet. When he turned around he saw the boar was stuffed.
His heart still pounding, he righted himself and saw the boar graced what appeared to be some sort of trophy room. The walls were covered with panels of birch bark, and everywhere he looked were stuffed animals and mounted animal heads. By a giant stone fireplace at the far end of the room stood a stuffed bear. Over the fireplace was the head of a moose, and gazing dumbly from around the room were deer heads, mountain Hons, pheasants, and ducks. Even the rugs on the floor were fashioned out of various animal pelts, all bearing mute testimony to long-ago hunts. The room possessed a stale preservative smell he recognized from the taxidermy displays of museums.
On another occasion this stuffed display might have captivated him, but given his experiences in the house thus far, the smell and the frozen accusing stares of so many dead animals made him uncomfortable. Seeing a door to the left of the fireplace, he quickly crossed over and turned the knob. It opened onto a narrow set of stairs leading down.
To his surprise the stairs led him once again to the main entrance hall of the house. Miffed at ending up where he had begun, he walked across to the main staircase and went back upstairs. Now he was doubly determined to find out more about the house.
This time when he reached the vestibule at the end of the hall he chose another door. Inside he discovered what appeared to be a large linen room. He passed through a maze of smaller rooms branching off it and was once again forced to go down a flight of stairs that emptied into one of the sun porches. At least he had avoided returning to the entrance hall. Still, he had been unceremoniously discharged into one of the outer first-floor rooms.
Again and again he tried to make his way through the house, but each time he encountered some hindrance or obstacle that foiled his effort. Sometimes the strange and twisting architecture of the house itself obliged him to take certain directions. Sometimes a beguiling maze of halls could not be resisted and led nowhere, into a cul-de-sac of rooms. Sometimes a corridor seemed too dark to venture into.
Whatever the case, after about half a dozen such attempts a remarkable realization slowly dawned on him. Far from being haphazard or merely eccentric, the layout of the house had a curious rhyme and reason. It was almost too fantastic to believe, but it appeared the house had been carefully designed to prevent anyone from venturing too deeply into its inner recesses.
As frustrated as he felt, he was very pleased with himself for having figured this out. But as he sat on the entrance-hall steps and gazed up into the spiderweb of stairways over his head he realized his discovery only
As he had suspected, careful scrutiny revealed that the floor, walls, and ceiling were all slightly askew. Indeed, its geometry was even more out of kilter than the sitting room’s. But what rendered its pronounced distortion invisible to the human eye was that everything, from the carving in the oak panels to the length of the legs on the furniture, had been carefully designed and reproportioned to conceal this fact.
Giggling with delight at such trickery, he stood and started through the room again. But again the room started to spin around him, and before he realized what was happening he was lurching headlong toward one of the doors. He lunged for the knob and blundered through. Inside he suddenly found himself face to face with a wild boar. Terrified, he screamed and started to run, but in his panic he tripped and fell over his own feet. When he turned around he saw the boar was stuffed.
His heart still pounding, he righted himself and saw the boar graced what appeared to be some sort of trophy room. The walls were covered with panels of birch bark, and everywhere he looked were stuffed animals and mounted animal heads. By a giant stone fireplace at the far end of the room stood a stuffed bear. Over the fireplace was the head of a moose, and gazing dumbly from around the room were deer heads, mountain Hons, pheasants, and ducks. Even the rugs on the floor were fashioned out of various animal pelts, all bearing mute testimony to long-ago hunts. The room possessed a stale preservative smell he recognized from the taxidermy displays of museums.
On another occasion this stuffed display might have captivated him, but given his experiences in the house thus far, the smell and the frozen accusing stares of so many dead animals made him uncomfortable. Seeing a door to the left of the fireplace, he quickly crossed over and turned the knob. It opened onto a narrow set of stairs leading down.
To his surprise the stairs led him once again to the main entrance hall of the house. Miffed at ending up where he had begun, he walked across to the main staircase and went back upstairs. Now he was doubly determined to find out more about the house.
This time when he reached the vestibule at the end of the hall he chose another door. Inside he discovered what appeared to be a large linen room. He passed through a maze of smaller rooms branching off it and was once again forced to go down a flight of stairs that emptied into one of the sun porches. At least he had avoided returning to the entrance hall. Still, he had been unceremoniously discharged into one of the outer first-floor rooms.
Again and again he tried to make his way through the house, but each time he encountered some hindrance or obstacle that foiled his effort. Sometimes the strange and twisting architecture of the house itself obliged him to take certain directions. Sometimes a beguiling maze of halls could not be resisted and led nowhere, into a cul-de-sac of rooms. Sometimes a corridor seemed too dark to venture into.
Whatever the case, after about half a dozen such attempts a remarkable realization slowly dawned on him. Far from being haphazard or merely eccentric, the layout of the house had a curious rhyme and reason. It was almost too fantastic to believe, but it appeared the house had been carefully designed to prevent anyone from venturing too deeply into its inner recesses.
As frustrated as he felt, he was very pleased with himself for having figured this out. But as he sat on the entrance-hall steps and gazed up into the spiderweb of stairways over his head he realized his discovery only
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