“Naturally I thought that I had cut myself; but a close examination revealed no cut or bruise of any sort. I lit a lamp and went back upstairs. My first glance was at the spot where I had first felt the wetness. A glance revealed the cause. Directly in the center of the bare board floor was a large pool of fresh blood. It was slowly spreading out over the floor, and sinking into the dry wood. I cleaned it up as much as possible, and then searched the room thoroughly. There was absolutely nothing that I could find that would explain the blood.
“The next morning, both my sister and my niece complained of feeling languid and fagged. My niece, a very white, frail girl, was even more colorless than usual, and her mother, noticeable for her deep intense eyes and the black rings that encircle them, seemed listless and indifferent to everything. Noting this, I scrubbed up the bloodstains before they made up the room, and said nothing of what I had seen.
“Things were normal until Monday night. Again, about the same hour, I was awakened by a smothering sensation. Once more I heard my own breathing as I gasped for air. As I got more fully awake, I found that the smothering sensation grew more intense. I sat up in bed, crouched over like one suffering with the asthma, and striving to fill my lungs with air. But this did not relieve my distress.
“Unconsciously, my eyes were fixed across the dark room. Again occurred the weaving of the shadows. Panting, stifling, and seemingly unable to arouse myself enough to get out of bed, I watched the repetition of the scene of the previous night. Once the horizontal streams of shadows were formed, my breathing became more normal, and I seemed to regain the power to move and think clearly.
“I then deliberately waited to see the finish of the affair. The banks of twisting shadows disappeared down the stairway, and the two figures repeated their previous trip. As soon as they had descended past the window, I sprang from bed and lit my lamp. My eyes went at once to the floor. The pool of fresh blood was there for the second time. I let it lay and tiptoed down stairs, and to the women’s room. Both were in a sound sleep, but I was struck at once by the haggardness of their features.
“I did not awake them. Getting a basin and water, I returned upstairs. I again scrubbed up the floor, this time with much care, as the stain had now gone deep into the aged boards. Leaving the lamp lit, I went back to bed. Finally I fell asleep. Nothing occurred during the remainder of the night.
“The morning after this second visitation,” resumed Hayden, “I again remarked the extreme pallor of my niece and the haggard, gaunt face of her mother. Still, I remained silent, determined to solve the riddle for myself.
“Last night I retired early, and I took several precautions. First, I secured an electric flashlight. Next, I powdered the stairs with flour. I also sprinkled the floor on the attic room. I now had a trap that no human being, or any mechanical figure, could tread over without leaving a trace. This done, I blew out the lamp and went to bed.
“I lay awake for a matter of two or three hours. I was determined to stay awake until the shadows commenced to form, or until I began to feel the smothering sensation. In this way, I would have a grasp on it from beginning to end. But in spite of my resolution, I fell asleep.
“I was again awakened by an uncanny feeling. Firm hands, or, rather, some peculiar force, seemed to hold my arms down on the bed. I sought to draw up my legs in order to slip out of bed, but found them held by an unyielding power. Finally, I discovered that I was unable to move any part of my body. I was certainly awake, yet I was as helpless as a person in a nightmare, who fancies that his body is totally paralyzed.
“Forced to lay motionless, I saw the black shadows stream from various parts of the room. This time they formed over my bed. I could feel them drift across my face, spinning, waving, and twisting and contorting. It was an unearthly feeling, lying there helpless to avert anything that might happen. There is nothing I can describe that would be similar to the feeling of those black forms, ceaselessly in motion. It might be likened to some invisible force that presses on one, or to a heavy fog that a person seems to feel in a material manner, with a strong impression of its dampness and chill.
“This helplessness and the weaving of the shadows went on for perhaps five minutes. Then, as the twisting rolls started to stream down the stairs, I could feel my body regaining its power. With the disappearance of the materializing forms, I became physically and mentally myself again.
“I then got the electric torch in my hand, ready to flash it at the proper moment. The figures rose above the stair, and I directed the bulb of the light toward them. I waited until they advanced to the center of the room, then I threw on the light.”
* * * * *
Hayden wiped his mouth with a trembling hand. His lips were dry, and his face flushed.
Then, with a slight shudder, he went on:
“At the instant of the flash, the darkness of the figures was gone. Instead, I saw two faces. They were inhuman, horrible, and impossible to describe. They leered at me with their shadowy, devilish faces, scarcely discernible in the glow of the torch. They seemed to be mocking me. They were corpse-looking and repulsive, but the eyes were terrible. They were full and real, and glowing, with a hellish, vengeful fire. But with all the horribleness of the faces, it was not they that held me motionless.
“It was at that moment that I discovered the source of the blood. It was dripping out of the air, and falling in a steady patter. I glanced up at the ceiling, but it was firm and unbroken. While I watched--it was scarcely a second--the drops seemed to form in the air above the floor. They were rapidly ceasing when my nerves gave way for the moment, and I let out an involuntary yell. With the cry, the dripping blood suddenly ceased and the faces vanished.
“This brought me to my senses. I sprang from bed, determined to see the thing through. My first act was to scan my trap. I followed the flour down the stairs, but it lay in a white, unbroken dust, as I had scattered it. That night, also, I looked in on the women. Both were sound asleep. But I was deeply shocked by their distorted faces. Shaken both mentally and bodily, I once more spent the rest of the night in the kitchen rocker.
“And now I want some one to go up there with me, examine the house, and spend the night in the room. I am troubled, nervous, and frightened: both for myself and for those with whom I live.”
“I will go there with you,” replied Burke evenly, “and I think the two of us should accomplish something. We can probably handle two shadowy forms.”
Hayden smiled dolefully.
“They handled me last night,” he said ruefully. “I’m a pretty strong man, but something held me as helpless as a baby.”
* * * * *
Burke alighted at a lonely way-station, standing on a strip of land between a wide marsh and the Hudson.
The marsh ran to the foot of the mountains, and lay sear and rippling in the September breeze. Hayden had stated that the dwelling stood back in the hills, a distance of some five miles. On Burke’s suggestion, they started to walk. Burke wanted to study the country, and, incidentally, study his companion.
The country he found to be sparsely settled. The road wound up through forest-clad rocky hills. The dwelling stood beside a wide stretch of woods, with cleared fields to the north.
Burke scanned the dwelling as he approached it, and found it to be the usual type of farm house of a century ago, buried among dead trees.
The interior of the house was in keeping with the exterior. Oval frames held old prints, horse-hair upholstered, massive dark furniture contrasted with tables and stands covered with white marble tops, the chairs squatted grimly in the quiet rooms and rested on dull rag carpets. The woman and her daughter struck Burke like beings transported from the misty past.
The mother was a tall, sparse woman, with heavy black rings about the eyes. The eyes, black and dreamy, held Burke with a steady, unwinking stare. The daughter was the opposite of her dark, sallow mother. She seemed a lifeless, colorless sprite, seemingly alive by the power and vigor of her more intense mother. She was about twenty years of age, although her chalky face, and thin, bloodless hands, together with her slight frame and indolent movements, seemed to signify an elder age, or some wasting disease. Both were of the dreaming, musing type, speaking softly and briefly, and moving silently about the quiet house, and both were garbed in dresses of white material.
Burke’s first act was to visit the room upstairs. There was nothing to warrant his attention except the stained floor. He ripped up several splinters and put them in his pocket. He then announced his intention of visiting the nearest town, several miles to the south.