Read Online The Demon Curse by Simon Nicholson - Free Book Online

Harry looked up at it for quite some time and then felt Dr. Mincing’s hand tugging at his arm. He turned. A cold wave swept through him. He walked over to the quaking bed.
    â€œAs I say,” whispered Dr. Mincing, “he is somewhat changed.”
    The mayor’s face shook all over. A taut rope ran across the forehead, holding it still, but nothing could be done about the face itself, a quivering blur. Harry wondered if there was a single muscle in it that wasn’t struggling. The lips were arched, flecks of sweat raced over the skin, and worst of all were Mayor Monticelso’s eyes, stretched wide with fear. Further down, his mouth was wide open too, but with only hoarse gasps coming out. Harry tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. A real demon curse —staring down at this face, it seemed entirely possible.
    â€œNe craignez rien, mes enfants.” Madame Melrose stood across the bed. “Do not be afraid, I mean. We wish your presence to reassure our mayor, to remind him of the good he has done, of the affection with which he is regarded. To surround him with frightened faces will not do. Am I not right, Dr. Mincing?”
    â€œCertainly. Further pictures of terror are the last thing the patient needs.” Dr. Mincing pushed his stethoscope between the buttons of the mayor’s shirt. “Mayor Monticelso? We have visitors for you. Children from the Tobermory Swamp School, do you recall? They have come to wish you well.”
    The ropes groaned. All down the bed, ropes crisscrossed the mayor’s body, and they were under great strain, holding him still. Harry looked back at the face and saw, fleetingly, a flicker of the kindly expression in the painting cross those terrified features. Mayor Monticelso’s lips arched, shaping a word. Harry leaned close, trying to hear it, but it was gone, and the old man’s face had been taken over by shaking again, his eyes bulging as if trying to struggle free, only to sink back again.
    â€œLost utterly in his torment!” Dr. Mincing lifted away the stethoscope, which shook almost as violently as the ropes on the bed. “Yet another technique of modern medicine has failed!”
    â€œAnd if Dr. Mincing cannot help him, who can?” Madame Melrose dropped into a chair. “He is the most experienced of doctors, mes enfants . For years he has traveled around, researching every disease of the mind, have you not, Doctor?”
    â€œIndeed I have,” said the doctor. “I have studied in hospitals all over the world. I have undertaken dangerous field trips. Why, I have even ventured into the jungles of Costa Rica in search of rare medicines for the mind. But in all my years of study, I have never seen a patient in the grip of a condition quite so cruel. It really is as if some demonic force has made its home within his mind and is devouring it from within—although such a thing is medically unheard of, naturally.”
    â€œFor such a good man to be trapped in this evil condition— intolerable !” Madame Melrose indicated a door, ajar but with a red ribbon tied across it. “Why, even at the very moment of the attack, he was engaged in charitable acts. He was through there, in his office. Attending to the paperwork concerning his noble endeavors and—”
    â€œWho found him?” Harry asked. He was still unsteady from the terrible sight, but he managed to adjust his angle and peer through the door into the office. He made out scattered papers, a desk, and, just visible, the edge of a wire-grille shutter on a wall.
    â€œClerks heard the cries from down the corridor. I was here within minutes, followed by the other councilors. We saw him collapsed behind his desk, in the grip of this terrible fit, the papers of his good work thrown into the air by his convulsions.” Madame Melrose shook her head. “A fearful scene, and one that largely remains. The New Orleans police wish to inspect it