- Page 4 and 5: “The Duke of Demolition Goes to H
- Page 6 and 7: above.—John BetancourtPublisher,
- Page 8 and 9: Benson Megapack The Cthulhu Mythos
- Page 10 and 11: DAGON, by H.P. LovecraftI am writin
- Page 12 and 13: I have said that the unbroken monot
- Page 14 and 15: believe. Once I sought out a celebr
- Page 16 and 17: and Celtic blood, but basically, th
- Page 18 and 19: dual literary life, his swashbuckli
- Page 20 and 21: But my eyes traveled down my body a
- Page 22 and 23: only when their conquerors slept. I
- Page 24 and 25: to a polite perturbation which his
- Page 26 and 27: ways on the long trek and centuries
- Page 28 and 29: MOTHER OF PEARL, by Fitz-James O’
- Page 30 and 31: showed their mahogany faces above t
- Page 32 and 33: hide, who, with his quick, aquatic
- Page 34 and 35: sense of the author. She thinks of
- Page 36 and 37: mental activity. All my efforts, ho
- Page 38 and 39: rage, disappointment at her failure
- Page 40 and 41: That evening saw us on our way home
- Page 42 and 43: confessing!”Her statement was the
- Page 44 and 45: “I didn’t have any orange wine,
- Page 46 and 47: But she had overlooked her own love
- Page 48 and 49: “He’s one of them now,” said
- Page 50 and 51: Walt.”Amelia’s contradictory bl
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remnants of her hosiery.Ducoin chuc
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Madeline’s trembling bare body an
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SOMETIMES YOU HAVE TO SHOUT ABOUT I
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If no one else listened to her, if
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and everyone knew it and she lived
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THE STORY OF MING-Y, by Lafcadio He
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him by name. Turning his face in gr
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who preside over life and death and
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created by a rainbow in honor of Ko
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separated forever, shedding many te
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an illustrious house, by whom he be
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“Home,” I whispered.I’d been
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corner. Each time Smithers tried to
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too far into the woods one night fe
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scanning the obituary page. My moth
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I had always been one, only my feed
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that Anderson had mentioned in but
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“‘All right, Peter,’ I said,
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to be affected that way. He went ov
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“‘Let’s get out of here!’ I
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never forgot that three other peopl
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abruptly I saw the thing I was look
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of the room to the left of the bed.
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“I completed the barriers in abou
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CANON ALBERIC’S SCRAP-BOOK, by M.
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puzzling him all the day: the man m
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shape of an antiphoner; perhaps it
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throned King with a look of beast-l
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A penwiper? No, no such thing in th
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sinned and suffered, and have more
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idea of which evidently frightened
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then there came over the crest of t
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resume its course with a long, low
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—only broken by the low panting a
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seen, except that they found an Eng
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THE MAN WHO FOUND OUT, by AlgernonB
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the soul, of the meaning of life an
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“And a small portmanteau in the v
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little distance along the difficult
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he was powerless to help, was a sou
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muscles were tense and rigid. Then,
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heart.“Nothing is easier,” repl
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PHANTAS, by Oliver Onions“For, ba
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sucking down. She glided as if a lo
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Abel Keeling, his mind now noting m
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like a sightless man, he stumbled f
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stern the tallest and that to the l
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Abel Keeling. It would be the Amen
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a dream that he had no knowledge of
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and rumble on wood, and a crash of
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would scream, wherever he happened
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expected too much, feared too much
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As he shuffled, it had seemed to hi
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get me as sure as you’re born. I
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LUCIFER, by John D. SwainThe notori
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London; although as I have said, on
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circumstances; that he tried persis
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fall with the regular respiration o
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PENNIES FROM HELL, by Darrell Schwe
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and Joe and I used to go home on th
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shook it, and a penny dropped onto
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eagerness over the question, Can we
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what the next verse is, Jimbo?’
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“I dropped it with a yelp, as if
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good, but he was already dead. I ju
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THE HOUND, by H. P. LovecraftIn my
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insects that danced like death-fire
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unknown, we had always entertained
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nightmare retinue of huge, sinewy,
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up recycled into the new houses (
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The door to the operator’s cab ha
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white skin had lost all attraction
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Austin squeezed a lime. He didn’t
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“The same,” Foster said, watchi
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tingle.“Who wrote that thing?”
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That’s good service.”Foster mad
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question. “Who are—they? People
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The juke-box started to play “I
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usurer.It was a singular face, that
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little indeed. ’Tis an authentic
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like that caused by some person hop
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This operation over, she took a few
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coloured nations repeated in chorus
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PIT OF MADNESS, by E. Hoffmann Pric
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wings. Bat wings, it seemed. It dro
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one who could give him the most hel
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wearing the Order of Saint Léon. B
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the ritual from which she had escap
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Yet even as he yielded to that vort
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drugs sooner than the émir intende
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St. Mary’s County, Maryland. The
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gathered at the old country seat at
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paper to testify to the continuity
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water running in the bath room.Alre
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at the front and heavily at the bac
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“Try it yourself,” her guardian
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is someone with criminal connection
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raised and ready until the corner o
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exaggerated nonchalance, but once h
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Thrusting a hand into his pocket, h
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as that which conquered the first R
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butler’s captured pistol in his r
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two associates, both of whom were T
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to buy your trousseau.”
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Lewis Stillman fell heavily back ag
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He thought once more about the begi
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Thompson submachine, had been procu
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I can still make it, thought Stillm
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THE BELL IN THE FOG, by Gertrude At
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Although women invariably described
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beastly idiot about expressing myse
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when their sons go forth to encount
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American’s pride of ancestry. Ort
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of positive rapture. Then he took t
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great pale world. If such writers g
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except, perhaps, in the shadows of
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amiably, and she carried herself qu
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“Do you think she’s like other
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THE CORPSE ON THE GRATING, by Hugh
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by shock, and sent him bolting.”T
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reply. Not until he had stepped for
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wall. The thing was yellow with age
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unholy phosphorescent specter out o
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It was another five minutes before
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THE MAN WHO COLLECTED KNIVES, by Jo
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good.Now, in their little apartment
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it got in his hand, he didn’t kno
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father had told him the one time he