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Show I & C!jris!tma GTapeStrp of &rafoetjue Jrostt I By Stella Ktestes & SI FIRST PRIZE STORY rg you are hungry! God is cursing you at every word you say! I've sweat blood night after night working over my theory on the Black Death. Trying to find that one error which kept it from being be-ing successful; trying to perfect a serum you had perfected six months ago. Yes, now I know. You killed kill-ed my brother because he knew the successful serum. You were afraid he might receive the honor which you wanted so badly you even killed for it!" Joel Ratchet spoke softly: pois- The demoniacal violence of combined com-bined snow and wind bent their passion full upon' the indistinct house which was rapidly becoming completely invisible. Indeed, even now the wind grew angrier as it unsuccessfully endeavored to gain admittance to the door. Alas, the snow had long made this impossible impos-sible for it had drifted into a relentless re-lentless barricade obscuring the door and windows, merely leaving the wind free to whisper mournfully mourn-fully about the eaves and chimneys. chim-neys. Within, the. oil lamp sent its feeble flickering light bravely through the window only to be lost a few feet beyond swallowed by the opaque snow. It was a futile night: heavy, airless nocturnal moments filled with expectant omen; prognostic with deep shadows. shad-ows. No less crestfallen were the two occupants of the house. Futility molded their features with shadowy shad-owy fingers and their eyes were haunted with catastrophe. A nervous ner-vous restlessness nurtured by three month's silence goaded the heavy steps of one of the men, as he paced the length of the room, stopping stop-ping to look out of the window, knowing' he would be greeted with the emptiness he had been viewing for ninety days. He was a singular man, still repulsive in his singularity. singular-ity. He had the bigness of an animal ani-mal with an animal's alert stealthy movements. The palms . of his hands were overlarge . humps of meat hard, yet known to be soft in their slimy touch of wantonness. His head was heavy in proportion to his body and was covered with a rough thatch of muddy blond hair. Heavy were his jowls startlingly Devil, you are! He is black of appearance ap-pearance and of soul just as you." The man at the window smiled a mirthless answer and lit his pipe. The minute glow of his match lit his face an instant and then died to leave it obscure again. But in that moment, one observed the character in his face. He was taller than his companion, lean but well-built. His black hair lay thick upon his head waving in its weight. Black side-burns continued into a beard somewhat shorter than that of his associate. Upon first seeing him, one would instantly in-stantly notice his eyes. They dwelt in shadowy hollows in his head; his soul written plainly in them. Eyes which could wither in their glance or hypnotize and intoxicate like black wine. "A pious speech on Christmas eve, Joel Ratchet," said he with the pipe. "Surely, even with an empty stomach, you could think of Christ on Chistmas instead of the Devil!" Ratchet looked towad the man. "You are as mad from hunger as I soon will be, Lincoln Visure! Christmas? It is well past January." Janu-ary." "How would you know ? The calendar cal-endar was burned a month ago. Next you shall burn the floor you stand on to keep you warm. You have milk in your veins instead of blood!" "And you have water! I'm a fool to stand here! I have worked for years finding the serum for Bubonic Bu-bonic Plague, and ,now I find I need only destroy you and disease dis-ease will be extinct from the earth. The Devil is the only one who would cause the Black Death!" At this, Visure threw his pipe to the floor and stepped forward. Dusky fury leapt from his eyes and his sinews grew rigid with the desire to leap upon this man and wreak his venegance. His shadow loomed dark in its monstrosity, covering the wall and ceiling. As suddenly as the seed pf anger had escaped it was controlled again. "You have the audacity to men-tin men-tin the serum! You dare to say onously calm: "You are beside yourself with hunger, Lincoln. You mistake my intentions. I was working in the laboratory with your brother, yes, but dropping the test tube of Bubonic Bu-bonic germs was purely accidental." acciden-tal." "You lie!" qntqrrupted Visure. "You killed my brother and then had me alone to eliminate. You planned that very skillfully when you sent me here for research work, careful to forget enough food supplies, didn't you? Then came the flaw the one flaw that spoiled your beatuiful plan of individual in-dividual victory and which was your death sentence as surely as it was mine! You found you were necessitated to accompany me, to this damned hole. There was no way out and too damned late to bring more food!" Lincoln Visure stood by the table; the fickle candle light exaggerating exaggerat-ing the angles of his face and lighting his eyes to black lighting. light-ing. He stood: an accusing Greek god with quinine dripping from his tongue and scorn upon his lips. "You knew you would starve we would starve before the remaining re-maining scientists came on Christmas," Christ-mas," continued Visure. "But Joel Ratchet great scientist for his damned self was not to be crashed crash-ed beneath his own trap. So you carefully took the food, twice your share, little by little like a thieving thiev-ing rat. You planned to show a starved appearance when they covered with a fire-red mass of hard beard covering his mouth and even his throat in mad defiance to his blond hair. Finally, his eyes were small slits of watery blue, ever roving as restless as his feet. Suddenly he stopped in his monotonous mono-tonous walking; turned to face his silent companion leaning upon the deep window ledge. His voice sounded strained unnatural as it broke the silence. "For hell's sake, say something! Say anything to break this damned quiet! I can't, even hear the wind any longer!" The distant moan of the wind and the whisper of the burning lamp was his answer. "I wish to heaven you could . go to hell and then we should see if that superior smirk upon your face wouldn't 'change to bloody yells as you burned!" tha red-bearded man continued, but he lowered his eyes for he could not stand that black look of loathing. "I would accompany you gladly just for the pleasure to see your reserve broken. brok-en. Anything to get out of this! Perhaps in hell, I should not have the curse of hunger clinging to my stomach like lichen to a tree!" "Why do you say 'when' you are in hell?" the silent man finally said between his teeth. "We are in hell now and you are Satan!" "Your tongue lies! I am not the came on Christmas and to be 'Oh, so sorry' because of my death. You forgot I might also do the same; might also take food little by little. lit-tle. And now we have no food, and we shall go to hell in each other's poisonous embrace!" Two mute bodies lay cold upon the floor. It could be noticed they were swollen and a peculiar blackness black-ness colored their throats and accompanied ac-companied lumps beneath their arms. The face of he with the red beard was hideously twisted into the agony experienced by those who face death with a reluctant fear. Lying close by was Visure; his face softened into thankful relief re-lief and his lips held the smile of victory while his eyes seemed to look out of the window and beyond. Well he might have looked, for through the tapestry of arabesque frost came men. laden with food and supplies. The scientists had come, and they were singing Christmas carols. |