by
Norman A. Rubin
When the fog-choked darkness hovered over the moors releasing the dark shadows imprisoned during the light of day. When the clammy fog swirled and twisted like a devilish dancing shroud under the full of the moon a strange mystery unfolded under the covering of the misty night.
A sinister aura was all about the moonscape in the darkness when the eerie quiet of the dismal night was disturbed by the sound of anguished moaning. It was followed by a whining cry, high pitched and blood curdling, which ripped through the yellowish fog.
Angus McDowall, a brawny shepherd was on the hilly trail to his flock of sheep that cold and damp night when another whining cry broke through the wisps of the light saffron mist. He froze in his tracks and searched out with the gray of his eyes through the foggy darkness for its source. He knew of the fickleness of nature through the years on the moors tending sheep; he knew of the dancing of the fog that momentarily lifts its yellowish curtain that allowed his sight to scan the terrain. But, as he searched through the lifting of the misty air there was neither a sign of animal nor human to be seen in the immediate area.
Suddenly his keen hearing heard a moaning sound coming from the nearby roadway; a young girl or boy seemingly called the pitiful sounds, which were filled with horror and anguish. The cries ascended again the shrouded air with a desperate tone, and then fell silent in the dark of the night.
Angus McDowall knew of such sounds from the frightened cries of the lambs and he turned his bandy legs down the stony hillock. He gripped his shepherds crook and made his way downwards to the roadway, careful in each step. The staff guided his footsteps through the loose rock till the safety of the road.
A gasping sound was heard to left of his stance and he slowly tread the tar towards the direction of the pitiful sounds. The crook tapped the direction for his booted feet.
The next moment, nature, in all her mercy, let the high winds blow, which cleared the night air from the yellowish fog for a few precious minutes. Then, under the wan half-moon, the shepherd saw the figure of a young girl lying on her side on the edge of the roadway. Angus pushed forward and leaned over the still, girlish figure. He was shocked at her disheveled dress, which was nothing more than torn flimsy under garment. Then another shock shivered his very soul as his saw her ochroid colored skin. The shepherd uttered an oath as he turned her face upwards.
"Curses to the devil," he bellowed in his deep voice.
Angus removed his long wool coat and covered the prostrate girl, a dainty maiden in her early years. The shepherd noticed that the girl had been pretty at one time, but now her youthful features were yellow in hue, with sunken dark-circled eyes and swollen cheeks; her light blonde hair was a mass of tangled tendrils.
Just as he stared and wondered, the long lashes of the young lass fluttered weakly opened. She gazed at her savior with glazing pitiful eyes.
"My poor child, what in heaven's name happened to you?" Angus asked softly, "Are you hurt? Please tell me!"
"The horror is yellow - a curse, a curse," she moaned with a shortness of breath. "Go for help - hurry before it is too late! Get the key, the bronze key...."
Suddenly terrible shivers shook her slim body under the warmth of the wool coat; her face grimaced in deep agony and anguish. Then she went limp like a rag doll and her blond head turned and lolled for a second or two on the dirt of the road. Then all was still.
Angus felt her pulse. There was a faint beating sound. He realized that help was quickly needed to save the poor lassie's life. Tears moistened his eyes as lifted himself and stood before the dying creature. He rubbed his craggy face in puzzlement as he pondered the situation.
"What in heaven's name did that poor girl mean when she called out about to be beware of the yellow curse? What was the meaning to her words to 'go for help before it is too late? Too late for what? And her words told to 'get the bronze key'! What was behind her words, what?" puzzled the shepherd.
When Angus McDowall stood in his stance he saw a looming light in the near distance of the road. A decision was reached where he hoped that at the dim beam the needed help for the girl would be forthcoming.
"Answers will come later! Help is badly needed for this poor lass," he muttered inwardly to himself.
Then he stooped down and lifted the young girl over his a wide
shoulder, holding her tight in the protection of a muscled arm. Angus trod on his booted feet till he found a dirt track leading to the direction of the faint light coming from a remote outline of large building.
"Strange tis be! Never took notice of that house in the many years I'd been caring for my sheep."
The rough track led upgrade along a narrow ridge. The yellowish fog returned upon the lessening of the winds and covered the trail in a damp mist. The shepherd's crook tapped the way cautiously through the winding course till he found himself before a rather large, ugly pile of stone masonry, grim and forbidding.
Obviously the dismal-looking edifice had been, at one time, a courtly manor of some grandeur. Now the stone building had deteriorated, its gables sagged, and its general appearance gave it an evil haunting setting.
Angus McDowall searched with his eyes along the facade and sides of the ugly edifice. At one end a round tower thrust upward, gaunt in the eerie fog. Angus looked up and a single bright candlelight shone in a yellowish beam from a closed window like a bright glare from a devilish evil eye. He shuddered in unknown fear as he looked up at the light.
The shepherd paused for a moment till he turned his footsteps that led to the path leading to a wide porch. Long tendrils of vines swinging to the rhythm of the winds had to be pushed aside to allow his entry. His booted feet mounted the five stone steps and he looked for the entrance portal through the foggy mist. A rusted iron bench was alongside the oaken door where he gently placed the sick girl.
Then he pulled his body in an upright stance and marched to the oak where he found a huge bronze knocker shaped in the image of a gargoyle. Angus rough hand took hold of the metal and knocked on the wood. Angus waited. Then after a few minutes he took hold of the bronze and hammered hard on the oak.
Suddenly, with a creak to its hinges, the oaken door swung slowly open. Then a man, holding a wan bright candleholder in a skeletal hand, stared out at him. Angus Mcdowall had braved the moors for nigh on thirty years, but the sight of the devilish figure and his deep penetrating look put a tinge of fear on him.
The creature was tall, thin almost gaunt; the black-attired figure was grim and threatening in appearance. The shrunken skin of his angular face was sallow, almost yellow in color. The creature had the look of a hellish demon with hollow cheeks, deep set dark eyes, pointed ears, and twisted snarling lips; wisps of his sparse grizzled hair hung like tangled sea weeds about his features.
A whirl of thoughts raced through Angus's mind. "Everything in this miserable foggy night was ghastly yellow from the dying lass on the roadside, the dismal pile of masonry and now this sallow-faced specter peering at him."
But before he was able to fit the pieces to the puzzle, he heard the voice of the staring figure, slowly speaking, deep and grave that dripped venom. It seemed to Angus the voice of a haunted spirit.
"What do you want here?"
Angus McDowall tried to explain to the man, but to no avail as the creature shouted, "You have come to a wrong place for help!" He half-closed door but a shepherd's crook blocked the oak, clattering to the stone floor.
"Damn you!" Angus cried out as he pushed himself against the oaken door. The yellow-tinged man glared at him menacingly through the crack when he felt the pressure on the wood. A kick to the crook and the oak slowly blended with the portals without the latching of a key. Then with oaths and curses the demoniac figure vanished into the depths of the house.
Strange words were yelled through the thickness of the oak, repeated twice, were directed at Angus, "You will not leave this house alive if you dare to enter!"
Angus Mcdowall, after a wait of a few minutes in order to gather his wits, dared to enter the manor. He pushed open the oaken door and stepped inside a long wide corridor. Two ornate lamps at two ends of the hall gave off an eerie light. Their fearsome glow bathed hanging damask curtains that hung over the doorways at both ends of the hall. Four heavy silken curtains placed in set positions along the walls hid the large misty windows. A plush Persian rug, drab in symbolic designs, covered the tiled floor and muffled the sounds of footsteps. Blazonry and the might of steel hung along the oaken walls; the heavy high-beamed ceiling added to the gloom of the musky atmosphere.
The shepherd found no one to assist him or offer the needed help. Angus had no choice but to return to the weak lassie and carry her into the corridor. He saw a large velvet covered couch along one wall where he gently placed the girl.
The shepherd was in a quandary as where to turn. Precious minutes were wasted as he pulled aside silken curtains looking for a door to some room, but all covered a misty window. Then he ran towards the end of the corridor, pulled aside the damask curtain but all that greeted his eyes was a darkened interior.
His head whirled in dizziness from the exertion and the tempo of the hour. He returned to the girl lying on the couch and sat beside her trying to find a solution. But tiredness overcame him from the agonizing frustration of thought.
Angus started to drift into a half sleep when he was jarred awake by a scream that rang out through the gloom. He woke with terror sweating his brows and wondering how long he had been asleep.
"What the devil is that cry?" he cursed twice over mixed with foul oaths.
Then another scream, then another came again to his straining ears, a gruesome, blood-freezing cry of deep agony of pain. It seemed to be from a tortured soul that echoed from the lower depths of the manor.
The fibers of Angus's body were tense in his stance. Then, without a moment's thought, he forgot the presence of the girl and quickly made his way through the end of the corridor to the darkened interior. All was still in the gloomy air. He muttered oaths as he groped along the cold and clammy wall as he reached the winding stairs leading to the dimly lit basement.
Then another scream echoed from below followed by an agonized cry for help...
He descended as quiet as his booted feet would allow. At the foot of the stairs, he paused to catch his breath that was filled with the exertion of terror. In front of him lay a short corridor that led to the entrance to some eerie reception hall. Some elusive force drew him irresistibly towards it.
When Angus Mcdowall neared the door he heard again the moaning sounds. There was no hesitation on his part as he broke with brute force through the door.
Never in his whole life could he have imagined such a sinister, ungodly room, a banquet hall of evil. It was brightly lit with the tinge of yellow glittery gilt everywhere, a dreaded Midas nightmare. Even the small golden table in front of him held a vase filled with yellow flowers.
Angus searched out the spacious hall and he saw a large banquet table of deep mahogany with seating for twelve centered in the room. Place settings were in order on the table with golden ceramic plates and solid gold cutlery. Bowls of food were open for look only - from golden grains of rice, speckled gold slices of meat to yellow boiled cabbage mixed with yellow peas and beans. Golden crystalline decanters were filled with wines of delicate hues of saffron color. Golden candlesticks on both sides of the dining table gave off yellowish bright light.
To his horror, Angus saw that eleven of the chairs held the nude body of a beautiful lass, covered lightly with diaphanous silk cloth. All were statues of living flesh. Each was young and blonde in hair and saffron hued with the yellowish color scheme of the hellish setting. All were in the statuesque form in the stage of eating or drinking; their yellow faces bore a scene of joy and merriment.
Alongside the banquet table were two seemingly statues of young footmen, uniformed in yellow patina, was in the act of serving the food and drink to the table. Both the figures had the look of servility on their pleasant youthful features.
The horror to Angus's eyes increased as he saw light movement from two of the girls who were held firmly in the grip of the golden color. But none of them could neither speak nor send out a moaning sound, which puzzled the shepherd.
Abruptly, before his eyes could search out the source of the devilish screams something of somebody seemed to envelop Angus to its folds. It came on silent feet from out the darkness behind him. Without warning, skeletal fingers clawed at him, tearing at his flesh. An overpowering odor crept into his nostrils, choking his breath.
He felt himself sinking in the depth of darkness. He swung his brawny fists at the evil figure that gripped him, but his blows were to no avail as he fought drunkenly in the air. Suddenly something whistled above him and crashed upon his head. Angus slumped onto the yellowish parquet floor.
When Angus awoke from the depth of darkness a short while later he found that he was securely tied with his legs outstretched to large table in the center of a strange room. The first thing his blurred vision noticed that his clothing were sprinkled with the color yellow; even his boots had that ochre touch.
When Angus Mcdowall cleared his eyes he saw he was in a hideous golden den-like laboratory, brightly lit by numerous candles in yellowish holders. The shelves held pots of golden paint in various shades and brushes dipped in cans of kerosene. Other artistic tools and materials hung on the yellow streaked walls. As he looked he saw a large metal door of iron in a corner niche; a large bronze key was needed to open the thick metal door.
Angus heard a low moan and turned to another table where he saw a lovely blonde girl lying flat on her naked back and securely strapped. Anger crossed his face as he watched the demon-like creature was bent over her nude form and daubing a well-formed breast with a small brush containing hot gilt; each stroke added a deep scream to her fears and moans of pain.
Angus McDowall strained at his binding straps and cursed out foul oaths to that devilish creature, but to no avail. The more he pulled he felt pain on his limbs and the trickling of blood.
The foul creature, upon hearing the curses, turned and slowly glided towards Angus and hovered over him. The shepherd felt a shudder to his body as peered into the cruel eyes. But as the yellow man bent a large bronze key left the cloth of his shirt and hung around the scrawny neck, dangling in the movement of his body.
The yellowish man grinned evilly as he straightened his stance continuing to stare with his deep-set eyes at Angus. Then in purring voice filled with hate spewed venomous talk at the shepherd.
"Continue to struggle all you want, but the straps are thick and strong," uttered the demon with a cackle to his lips.
"You will be permitted to witness a great miracle. One young girl was in one in my power and when I was distracted momentarily she somehow slipped her bounds and fled the manor. But, unfortunate for her, she was doused with a paralytic medicine.
"Fortunately I shan't miss her as two lovelies were in my hands and the one here will be of my creation. You will see before your eyes a feat of change will be made similar to that you had witnessed in the banquet hall. I have in my power to change this pretty young maiden's disgusting white flesh with the glowing, heated beauty of living gold. It would need three days of my talented hands, but at the end her body will a marvel of golden hue."
"Ahh my dear friend, I see curiosity burns within you! The color of gold lures me in my task. During my travels abroad in the deserts of Africa I was bitten by a rare insect and contracted the gold fever, which brought a made lust for the color of the yellow metal. Although that fever brought ruination to my body, it gave me the touch of the 'Gold Bug' to seek out the gold ore and subsequent wealth." His words were followed by a hideous laugh of greed.
"Within time I purchased this abandoned manor house and furnished it to my taste. Then, my dear friend, I outfitted this large room in the basement for a banquet hall with my desire of the golden touch together with beautiful and youthful companionship. Young ladies were easily to come by - simple advertisement in the newspapers for a secretary brought golden haired eager young maidens to my doorsteps.
"Now, my good friend, I hope your curiosity is satisfied," he cackled menacingly,
"Afterwards I shall have a bit of sport with you, my impetuous intruder. This girl will be mine. Together, we shall enjoy your anguish as I will slowly but slowly remove you soul from your body and allow it to soar above to a happier place in the heaven's above."
"Your mad, a downright maniac!" Angus screamed at him. But the demoniac creature just laughed hideously at him.
Then the tall, thin figure turned towards the girl. He chuckled obscenely as his skeletal fingers touched her nude body. "Your moaning cries are a nuisance and a hindrance to my endeavors. You see my dear I have plans for your body. You will lie quietly while I administer a bit more of the sweetened opiates that will take you to the fields of yellow flowers. And as your ghastly color of white will turn to a golden hue you will be drawn to me. When I tire of your foul body I will turn you back to the white of your flesh with a sip of a purgative." His leering lips curled into devilish laughter as one talon hand glided forward, once again, to touch pale flesh that tried to shrink from his touch.
As Angus cursed and tugged on the straps, the fiend turned to the bronze door in a far corner of the room, inserted the bronze key into the lock and the door opened creakily. Small vials, each containing a chemical compound containing sodium phosphate, magnesium phosphate, phosphorus, were removed and placed on the nearby worktable. He added two hypodermic needles, ceramic mixing bowls and a few tools next to the bottles of chemicals. Then he carefully locked the large safe and returned the bronze key to the chain around his neck.
A foul oath was on Angus's lips when saw the seated fiend's back as he mixed the chemicals to produced the right measure of the opiates. Horrid mutterings and cackles of hideous laughter were spewed from the mad man as he worked.
Blind fury was upon Angus as he strained upward on his bounds with all his strength. Suddenly the worn straps parted from his bound pain-racked arms. He sat up, and quickly unbuckled the straps to his booted feet. The, without a moment's hesitation, he threw himself on the demon.
Angus plunging body crashed into the skeletal figure, smashing him to the stone floor. The yellow fiend cursed anonymously as he clawed on the flesh of the shepherd. Then the shepherd's hard right fist battered his jaw with a bone-cracking blow. The struggle ended as the fiend plunged into unconsciousness. Angus, then tore at his shirt and removed the bronze key, chain and all.
Angus McDowall then turned to the table holding the captive girl. It was quick work to release the sobbing girl from her bounds. Then with his stubby fingers he removed the gold patina from her skin, which he bunched in a ball and flung aside; an easy job as the fiend applied a coat of light oil before committing himself to the devilish task.
A yellowing laboratory coat was found, which Angus covered the girl's nakedness? Then he held her in his arms for a moment or two and comforted her as lay free from her bounds, "Don't cry my dear, everything will be all-right."
Then Angus turned, leaped over the prostrate body of the fiend and went to the strongbox. A turn of the brass key and he was able to look within the interior. Leathern bags of gold coins were pushed aside in his search; one of them found the insides of his trouser pockets. A glass flask of colored liquid and labeled with crude writings was found behind the bags.
Angus removed the glass container quickly from the safe. Then, under the bright candlelight, he read the handwritten words, which were of strange script unknown to him. Then he uncorked the flask and the liquid inside had a foul smell, but he knew of the odor to be some sort of a purgative. It was a gamble to attempt to force a small portion down the throat of the girl, but he had no choice.
Angus then returned to table and pulled the head of the girl backwards, forced her mouth open and poured a bit of the purgative within. The lass coughed as the liquid entered her throat and the results were swiftly noted by the ejection of the crude phosphorus aphrodisiac from the depth of her body. The girl shivered as she turned her head and heaved the poison from her body. Angus held her until he was sure the lassie was able stand firmly on her legs.
The young girl held tight to the arm of Angus as they made their way to the banquet hall. There, once again, the antidote was swiftly administered with miraculous results. All were relieved of the yellowish taint upon their skins, but one dainty girl had succumbed to its misery. Her body was assigned to one of the young men who carried her gently along the way.
During the hustle that followed that did they not notice the swift departure of the yellowish fiend. Only when they saw a bright candelabra held high in hand climbing the stairs, followed by a horror-filled laughter echoing menacingly through the manor were they aware of his escape.
There was not time for the pursuit of the demoniac madman as various points of action was needed to be taken immediately - the attention to the unconscious girl in the corridor, covering for the near-nakedness of the other young girls, and above all, a quick flight from that hellish manor house.
Suddenly, as they neared the door leading to the fog-filled night, acrid smoke bellowed through the corridor followed by tongues of flames. Angus led the group with the instinct of a shepherd through the blinding smoke till the safety of the clear air and far from the burning building as possible.
s they huddled in the misty night, Angus looked up to the tower and he saw the demoniac figure surrounded by yellow flames staring at him fiercely through a broken window. A cackle of fiendish laughter followed for a minute or so before he was pulled back writhing into the yellowish flames...
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