Fear by Hubbard L. Ron

Fear by Hubbard L. Ron

Author:Hubbard, L. Ron [Hubbard, L. Ron]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Fantasy, Classics, Mystery, Science Fiction, Suspense, Horror
ISBN: 9781592125593
Amazon: 159212559X
Goodreads: 15782607
Publisher: Galaxy Press
Published: 1952-01-01T08:00:00+00:00


They chattered on while Lowry stood near the cold fireplace. As long as there was very deep shadow he found he could not get glimpses of the thing. That is, not at first. But when he would turn his head it would briefly seem to appear in the middle of the room. Now and then he tried to catch it napping, but each time it swiftly scuttled back. He attempted to turn his head slowly so as to lead up on it, but then, too, it kept just out of sight.

He felt that if he could only find out what it was he would feel all right about it, no matter what it was. But until he saw it— He shuddered with dread at the thought of it touching him again.

“Why, Jim!” said Mary, breaking off her conversation with Tommy. “You’re shivering again.” She put her hand upon his arm and led him toward the door. “Now you go right upstairs and take ten grains of quinine and then lie down for a little nap. Tommy will help me put the dinner on and keep me company, won’t you, Tommy?”

“Anything for a friend,” said Tommy.

It made Jim vaguely uneasy to leave them together. But, then, Tommy must have been here many times while he was gone in just as innocent a capacity. What was wrong with him? To think that way about Tommy! About his best and really only friend? He started up the stairs.

And step by step the “thing” jumped along with him. He pressed himself against the wall to avoid any possibility of contact with it, but the presence of the wall, barring any dodge he might make, made him feel even more nervous.

What was the thing, anyhow?

Why was it tagging him?

What would it do to him?

What would make it go away?

He shivered again.

In his room he found his quinine and, taking it to the bath to get a glass of water, was accompanied by the “thing.” He could see it very indistinctly against the white tile. And then he grew cunning. He guided it by slowly turning his head, and then, springing sideways and out the door, he banged the door behind him. He felt better as he downed the quinine and water. For a moment he had the inane notion that he ought to go and tell Mary not to open this door, but then, of course, it would be a much better idea to lock it. He found a key in a bedroom door and carried it to the bath. In a moment the lock clicked home. He almost laughed aloud, and then caught himself up. That wouldn’t do. Whatever the thing was, it was perfectly explainable. Something wrong with his eyes, that was all. It was just malaria. Something the doctors hadn’t discovered about it.

He went to his bedroom and took off his jacket and stretched out on his bed. The warm air from the open window was very soothing, and in a little while he drifted off into a quiet sleep, untroubled by dreams.



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