Червона кімната

           “No,"saidI,“itisnot." 

           “Itoldyouso,"saidtheoldlady,withtheglassinherhand.“Itishispooryoungcountesswhowasfrightened—" 

           “Itisnot,"Isaid. “Thereisneitherghostofearlnorghostofcountessinthatroom;thereisnoghostthereatall,butworse,farworse,somethingimpalpable—" 

           “Well?"theysaid. 

           “Theworstofallthethingsthathauntpoormortalmen,"saidI;“andthatis,inallitsnakedness—‘Fear!’ Fearthatwillnothavelightnorsound,thatwillnotbearwithreason,thatdeafensanddarkensandoverwhelms. Itfollowedmethroughthecorridor,itfoughtagainstmeintheroom—" 

           Istoppedabruptly. Therewasanintervalofsilence. Myhandwentuptomybandages. “Thecandleswentoutoneafteranother,andIfled—" 

           Thenthemanwiththeshadeliftedhisfacesidewaystoseemeandspoke. 

           “Thatisit,"saidhe.“Iknewthatwasit. APowerofDarkness. Toputsuchacurseuponahome!Itlurkstherealways. Youcanfeeliteveninthedaytime,evenofabrightsummer’sday,inthehangings,inthecurtains,keepingbehindyouhoweveryoufaceabout. Intheduskitcreepsinthecorridorandfollowsyou,sothatyoudarenotturn.Itisevenasyousay. Fearitselfisinthatroom.BlackFear....Andthereitwillbe...solongasthishouseofsinendures."