By John Farris
As soon as she cowered in a dismal room whereas the Axman murdered her kin. Now, two decades later, she struggles to recollect the face of the crazed killer to finish her personal frustration. yet, a blackout traps her in an elevator with a stranger--a stranger who may be the Axman!
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Additional resources for Axman Cometh
The sheriff said this wearily, for he was tired, having been up since he had been called to Osborn’s farm. And what did I know about Whateley? he went on. I shook my head and confessed that I knew all too little about any of my neighbors. “But I’ve noticed his queer talk,” I admitted. ” The sheriff leaned forward eagerly. ” I admitted that Amos had so talked. The sheriff seemed satisfied. He took his leave after indirectly scoring me for my own conspicuous lack of success in discovering what had happened to my cousin Abel.
For a moment I was uncertain as to how to deal with him. One cannot simply overlook an attempt to burn one’s house down, and, for all I knew, one’s self with it. “Very well, Amos. Whatever it is you know is your affair. But I know you set fire to my house, and I can’t overlook that. I’ll expect you to make that right. ” “If ye dun’t know. . ” He shrugged. ” However ridiculous his rigmarole had been, what he said did disconcert me, largely because there was a wild kind of logic to it. But then, I reflected, as I walked back through the woods to my cousin’s house, there is a perverted kind of logic to all superstition, which explains the tenacity of superstitions from one generation to another.
But what with one thing and another, and everything that happened in the Pocket after that, I forgot about it; so the clothes are still there, sort of fallen together on the chair, just as I found them that night of the May full moon before the window in the store-room. And I set it down here and now, because it is evidence of what I claim, to stand against the terrible doubts that greet me on all sides. That night the whippoorwills called with maddening insistence. I heard them first while I was still in the store-room; they had begun to call out of the darkly wooded slopes from which the sunlight had gone, but far down the west, the sun had not set, and, though the Pocket was already in a kind of blue-hazed twilight, the sun still shone outside it, on the road connecting Arkham and Aylesbury.
Axman Cometh by John Farris