Vampire by Hanns Heinz Ewers

Author:Hanns Heinz Ewers [Ewers, Hanns Heinz]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Google: tY9EAAAAIAAJ
Amazon: B002ZVUZ34
Publisher: John Day
Published: 1934-07-14T23:00:00+00:00

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The professor had been gone for over an hour. But the two of them still sat in their chairs in the library, smoking, and sipping at their glasses. They didn’t look at each other, and didn’t speak, remained silent.

“Would you like to have the car,” she asked, “to take you back home?”

He looked over at her, and answered.

“I would like to stay here tonight.”

She quickly stood up, lifting her fine lips.

“Oh, whatever you want. The wine is over there, serve yourself. I will get ready then – I will send the maid when I am ready for you.”

At the door she stopped, and smiled back at him.

“Tell me – what would you like to see tonight, whether I am Astarte perhaps – were to drink blood? You once called me the Phoenician. Goddess – priestess – what was it?”

He didn’t answer, but her go.

He thought:

“Anything is possible in the human brain.”

He thought back –

So what was it? – What could be possible?

A priestess dripping with blood – and he himself her sacrifice, the dismembered child.

It was so silly, so absurd, like Doctor Cohen’s theory about a South Sea disease.

And yet the suspicion remained – and he could not rid himself of it.

He emptied the last glass, and followed the maid. Went into the bathroom, took a cold shower and put on a pair of silk pajamas.

She was sitting on the large bed when he came in. Her red hair fell down loosely over her lace nightgown. She held a couple of small, glittering things in her hand, playing with them, then setting them down quickly on the nightstand, when she heard his soft footsteps. He saw what had glittered so brightly, saw that it was a small scissors and a cute little folding knife that was open.

Then she took a ring from the table and put it on her finger.

He stepped up to her.

“A new ring?” He asked. “Another charm?”

She held out her hand to him.

“Perhaps. But it is not new.”

It was an ugly ancient silver ring with a crest cut on a greenish stone and set in a cheap mounting.

“I found it yesterday in a junk shop on second Avenue.

“ she smiled, “The rogue made me pay a hundred dollars for it, when he realized that I had to have it. I just can’t bargain – it is a pity.”

“The thing isn’t worth fifty cents,” he said.

“Yes it is?” She replied. “It is worth more than that to me. Look here: a pelican, pricking open her breast to feed her thirsty young with her own blood.”

He looked at her sharply – that same thought again!

“Why does it interest you so much?” He demanded.

She shrugged her shoulders.

“Oh, it just does! It is the crest of Magdeburg – my mother’s family came from there.”

She stood up, took a tumbler from the table that was filled to the brim with a milky white liquid and offered it to him.

“Drink, my friend,” she said.

“What is it?” He asked.

“A strong sleeping potion!” She answered.

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