The Horror Megapack_ 25 Classic and Modern Horror Stories ( PDFDrive )

Civil War at some southern gentleman’s side. Later perhaps it had carried
civilization west, helping defeat the hordes of Indians who waited behind every
rock and tree to ambush innocent settlers.
His boss had brought it back from Illinois along with a truckload of other
antiques. It had been love at first sight. The worn leather grip fit his hand like a
glove. It had been meant for him.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?”
Nodding, he hefted the saber. Eight little nocks in the hilt; eight deaths
attributed to its might. If only Joanne could see it, share it with him. Then life
would be perfect.
Slowly, he tested the blade with his thumb. Dull as a butter knife. (“Can’t have
that, not with such a fine weapon,” the creature inside him said, and he agreed.)
Such a waste otherwise.
Taking a whetstone from his desk, he began to work the saber’s edge back
toward razor sharpness. The touch of the steel made his hands tingle.
Finally finished, he wrapped brown paper around it, but loosely, so it could be
drawn. Turning off the lights, he set the alarms and locked the doors. Then,
trembling, he stood in the doorway for an instant, just watching his breath mist
the air. This felt like a turning point in his life, as though he stood on the brink of
something tremendous, something great and good and powerful, like knowing
God or being the first man to walk on the moon. It felt like that, only more so,
because it was happening to him and not some stranger on TV.
He could feel the sword’s weight. When he eased his hand into the paper and
touched its hilt, an almost electric tingle ran through his arm. Ecstasy.
“You can win her heart again!” the creature inside him cried. “She’ll see
reason. She loves you.”
“But—”
“Trust me,” it said. “Do it! Doitdoitdoit!”
He hugged the saber to his chest and cast his lot.
Two blocks’ walk and he came to the subway. He fed the machine his token,
then pushed through to stand impatiently waiting. Why did it seem to take
forever tonight, when for the first time it truly mattered?
Finally a train came. He boarded with a couple of old men, then sat alone at the
opposite end of the car with the saber across his knees. He watched graffitied
walls flow away on either side of the car.
At last he reached the right stop. Joanne’s parents’ house lay two blocks away.
She was staying with them till she got herself on her feet again—that’s what her