The Horla by Guy de Maupassant

Author:Guy de Maupassant [Maupassant, Guy de]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-61219-246-8
Publisher: Melville House Publishing
Published: 2012-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

What is wrong with me? It is he, the Horla, who is haunting me, making me think these mad thoughts! He is inside me, he is becoming my soul; I will kill him!

August 19. I will kill him. I have seen him! I had sat down at my table last night, and I pretended to write with great concentration. I was well aware that he would come prowl around me, quite close, so close that I might perhaps be able to touch him, to seize him.… And then … then, I would have the strength of the desperate. I would have my hands, my knees, my chest, my forehead, my teeth to strangle him, crush him, bite him, tear him apart.

And I watched for him with all my overexcited organs.

I had lit both my lamps, along with the eight candles on my mantelpiece, as if, in this brightness, I might expose him.

Opposite me, my bed, an old oaken four-poster; to my right, my fireplace; to my left, my door, which I had carefully shut, after having left it open for a long time, in order to lure him in; behind me, a very high wardrobe with a mirror, which I used every day to shave and dress, and in which I had the habit of looking at myself, from head to foot, every time I passed in front of it.

I was just pretending to write in order to trick him, for he too was spying on me; and suddenly, I felt, I was sure, that he was reading over my shoulder, that he was there, grazing my ear.

I stood up with my hands outstretched, turning around so quickly that I almost fell down. And? Everything there was clear as in full daylight, but I could not see myself in my mirror—it was empty, clear, profound, full of light! My image was not inside it … yet I myself was facing it! I could see the large clear glass from top to bottom. I looked at it with terrified eyes, but dared not move forward. I did not dare to make any movement, fully aware that he was there, but that he would escape me again, he whose imperceptible body had devoured my reflection.

I was terrified. Then suddenly I began to see myself in a mist, in the depths of the mirror, in a mist as if through a sheet of water. It seemed to me that this water shimmered from left to right, slowly, making my image more precise, from second to second. It was like the end of an eclipse. Whatever was obscuring me seemed not to possess any clearly defined outlines, but just a sort of opaque transparency, little by little becoming clearer.

Finally I could distinguish myself completely, just as I do every day when I look at myself.

I had seen him! The terror of it has remained with me, and makes me tremble still.

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