: Edgar Allan Poe, Bram Stoker, Mary Shelley, Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, Robert Louis Stevenson, H.P. Lo
: 100+ Horror Collection. Scary Stories to Read in Bed Tonight The Tell-Tale Heart, Frankenstein, The King in Yellow, The Rose Garden, Number 13, The Call of Cthulhu, The Horror at Red Hook, The Willows and Others
: Strelbytskyy Multimedia Publishing
: 9780880030526
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: Gemischte Anthologien
: English
: 3872
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The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. These facts few psychologists will dispute, and their admitted truth must establish for all time the genuineness and dignity of the weirdly horrible tale as a literary form... As may naturally be expected of a form so closely connected with primal emotion, the horror-tale is as old as human thought and speech themselves. Horror intends to create an eerie and frightening atmosphere for the reader. Prevalent elements include ghosts, demons, vampires, werewolves, ghouls, the Devil, witches, monsters, dystopian and apocalyptic worlds, serial killers, cannibalism, psychopaths, cults, dark magic, Satanism, the macabre, gore, and torture. Contents: Edgar Allan Poe THE MURDERS IN THE RUE MORGUE THE GOLD BUG THE BLACK CAT THE PIT AND THE PENDULUM THE TELL-TALE HEART THE FALL OF THE HOUSE OF USHER THE MASQUE OF THE RED DEATH THE CASK OF AMONTILLADO THE FACTS IN THE CASE OF M. VALDEMAR HOP-FROG THE RAVEN Bram Stoker DRACULA Mary Shelley FRANKENSTEIN Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu CARMILLA Robert Louis Stevenson THE STRANGE CASE OF DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE H.P. Lovecraft THE ALCHEMIST AT THE MOUNTAINS OF MADNESS AZATHOTH THE BEAST IN THE CAVE BEYOND THE WALL OF SLEEP THE BOOK THE CALL OF CTHULHU THE CASE OF CHARLES DEXTER WARD THE CATS OF ULTHAR THE COLOUR OUT OF SPACE DAGON THE DESCENDANT THE DOOM THAT CAME TO SARNATH THE DREAM-QUEST OF UNKNOWN KADATH THE DUNWICH HORROR THE EVIL CLERGYMAN EX OBLIVIONE FACTS CONCERNING THE LATE ARTHUR JERMYN AND HIS FAMILY THE FESTIVAL FROM BEYOND THE HAUNTER OF THE DARK HE HERBERT WEST-REANIMATOR THE HISTORY OF THE NECRONOMICON THE HORROR AT RED HOOK THE HOUND HYPNOS IBID IN THE VAULT THE LITTLE GLASS BOTTLE MEMORY THE MOON-BOG THE MUSIC OF ERICH ZANN THE NAMELESS CITY NYARLATHOTEP OLD BUGS THE OTHER GODS THE OUTSIDER PICKMAN'S MODEL THE PICTURE IN THE HOUSE POLARIS THE QUEST OF IRANON THE RATS IN THE WALLS A REMINISCENCE OF DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON THE SECRET CAVE OR JOHN LEES ADVENTURE THE SHADOW OUT OF TIME THE SHADOW OVER INNSMOUTH THE SHUNNED HOUSE THE SILVER KEY THE STATEMENT OF RANDOLPH CARTER THE STRANGE HIGH HOUSE IN THE MIST THE STREET THE TEMPLE THE TERRIBLE OLD MAN THE TOMB THE TRANSITION OF JUAN ROMERO THE TREE UNDER THE PYRAMIDS THE VERY OLD FOLK WHAT THE MOON BRINGS THE WHISPERER IN DARKNESS THE WHITE SHIP SUPERNATURAL HORROR IN LITERATURE Algernon Blackwood THE WILLOWS Francis Marion Crawford THE DOLL'S GHOST Robert W. Chambers THE KING IN YELLOW M. R. James CANON ALBERIC'S SCRAP-BOOK LOST HEARTS THE MEZZOTINT  and others

Horror intends to create an eerie and frightening atmosphere for the reader. Prevalent elements include ghosts, demons, vampires, werewolves, ghouls, the Devil, witches, monsters, dystopian and apocalyptic worlds, serial killers, cannibalism, psychopaths, cults, dark magic, Satanism, the macabre, gore, and torture.

THE GOLD BUG


What ho! what ho! this fellow is dancing mad!

He hath been bitten by the Tarantula.

All in the Wrong[4]

MANY years ago, I contracted an intimacy with a Mr. William Legrand. He was of an ancient Huguenot[5] family, and had once been wealthy; but a series of misfortunes had reduced him to want. To avoid the mortification consequent upon his disasters, he left New Orleans, the city of his forefathers, and took up his residence at Sullivan’s Island, near Charleston, South Carolina.

This Island is a very singular one. It consists of little else than the sea sand, and is about three miles long. Its breadth at no point exceeds a quarter of a mile. It is separated from the main land by a scarcely perceptible creek, oozing its way through[6] a wilderness of reeds and slime, a favorite resort of the marsh hen. The vegetation, as might be supposed, is scant, or at least dwarfish. No trees of any magnitude are to be seen. Near the western extremity, where Fort Moultrie stands, and where are some miserable frame buildings, tenanted, during summer, by the fugitives from Charleston dust and fever, may be found, indeed, the bristly palmetto; but the whole island, with the exception of this western point, and a line of hard, white beach on the seacoast, is covered with a dense undergrowth of the sweet myrtle, so much prized by the horticulturists of England. The shrub here often attains the height of fifteen or twenty feet, and forms an almost impenetrable coppice, burthening the air with its fragrance.

In the inmost recesses of this coppice, not far from the eastern or more remote end of the island, Legrand had built himself a small hut, which he occupied when I first, by mere accident, made his acquaintance. This soon ripened into friendship—for there was much in the recluse to excite interest and esteem. I found him well educated, with unusual powers of mind, but infected with misanthropy, and subject to perverse moods of alternate enthusiasm and melancholy. He had with him many books, but rarely employed them. His chief amusements were gunning and fishing, or sauntering along the beach and through the myrtles, in quest of shells or entomological specimens;—his collection of the latter might have been envied by a Swammerdamm.[7] In these excursions he was usually accompanied by an old negro, called Jupiter, who had been manumitted[8] before the reverses of the family, but who could be induced, neither by threats nor by promises, to abandon what he considered his right of attendance upon the footsteps of his young “Massa Will.” It is not improbable that the relatives of Legrand, conceiving him to be somewhat unsettled in intellect, had contrived to instil this obstinacy into Jupiter, with a view to the supervision and guardianship of the wanderer.

The winters in the latitude of Sullivan’s Island are seldom very severe, and in the fall of the year it is a rare event indeed when a fire is considered necessary. About the middle of October, 18-, there occurred, however, a day of remarkable chilliness. Just before sunset I scrambled my way through the evergreens to the hut of my friend, whom I had not visited for several weeks—my residence being, at that time, in Charleston, a distance of nine miles from the Island, while the facilities of passage and re-passage were very far behind those of the present day. Upon reaching the hut I rapped, as was my custom, and getting no reply, sought for the key where I knew it was secreted, unlocked the door and went in. A fine fire was blazing upon the hearth. It was a novelty, and by no means an ungrateful one. I threw off an overcoat, took an arm-chair by the crackling logs, and awaited patiently the arrival of my hosts.

Soon after dark they arrived, and gave me a most cordial welcome. Jupiter, grinning from ear to ear, bustled about to prepare some marsh-hens for supper. Legrand was in one of his fits—how else shall I term them?—of enthusiasm. He had found an unknown bivalve, forming a new genus, and, more than this, he had hunted down and secured, with Jupiter’s assistance, ascarabaeus[9] which he believed to be totally new, but in respect to which he wished to have my opinion on the morrow.

 

 

“And why not to-night?” I asked, rubbing my hands over the blaze, and wishing the whole tribe of scarab?i at the devil.

“Ah, if I had only known you were here!” said Legrand, “but it’s so long since I saw you; and how could I foresee that you would pay me a visit this very night of all others? As I was coming home I met Lieutenant G—, from the fort, and, very foolishly, I lent him the bug; so it will be impossible for you to see it until the morning. Stay here to-night, and I will send Jup down for it at sunrise. It is the loveliest thing in creation!”

“What?—sunrise?”

“Nonsense! no!—the bug. It is of a brilliant gold color—about the size of a large hickory-nut—with two jet black spots near one extremity of the back, and another, somewhat longer, at the other. Theantennae[10] are—”

“Dey aint no tin in him, Massa Will, I keep a tellin on you,” here interrupted Jupiter; “de bug is a goole bug, solid, ebery bit of him, inside and all, sep him wing—neb