GHOST STORIES

AND OTHER TALES OF HORROR

THE END OF AND TO SEE HIM SMILE

As if in uncanny response to his own troubled thoughts, a chorus of lilting, mocking voices seemed to be crooning somewhere down the hall, possibly from down the stairwell.  "He comes." they sang;"Comes in when; when the; comes when the cold; when the cold winds sigh."  It was winingly high-pitched and ragged, like a gaggle of children trying unsuccessfully to sing together.  But whatever was going on, at least it was something one could confront, Lloyd reflected, somewhat relieved; it was a group of people, even if they were drunk or crazy.  He unlocked his door and stepped out into the hall.
    "Winds sigh.  he comes from; comes from the; from the gloom."  The voices were emanating from somewhere down the stairs.  "Gloom of his; of his terrible tomb; tomb."  Lloyd snorted; he'd see about this.  Stepping smartly back down the hall, he felt his annoyance grow; hadn't he been through enough?  he started down the stairs.
And stopped halfway between floors.
The voices were here, all right.  But only one figure stood on the shadowy stairs below him.
Lloyds hand went to his throat, fished under his coller, found the chain, the cross.
For the figure standing below him was familiar.  It had a heavy overcoat draped over its shoulders, and a swatch of cloth covered its face below the firey eyes.  "Terrible tomb," the voices sang.  How could there be so many of them?  " And to see; to see him; and to see him smile," they sang.  The eyes appeared to wince slightly at the sight of the cross, but held their gaze upon him.  And the knarled hands went up and grasped the cloth and pulled it down and off.
Lloyds earlier impression had been right.  the "scarf" was only the broad fringe of a kind of mantle or shroud that had covered most of the creature's front like some grotesque bib.
  The thing was face all the way down.  And all the mouths were singing.
"Him smile; see him smile."
  One puny silver cross certainly wan't enough----maybe it would have taken dozens of crosses for each needle-fanged mouth. "And to see him smile is to die."  Lloyd tried to back away, but it would have taken running up the stairs backwards.  The nightmare face lurched upward, and some of the mouths were still singing when they reached him.
                                                            THE END
Story by Donald R. Burleson   copywrite 1995 

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