Page Created 10-22-98
APPARENTLY THE PHONES DON'T WORK
"Lana Davis speaking, Dr. Bollinger's secretary."
There was no answer. She clicked the rest up and down.
"Lana Davis speaking, " she said, "Dr. Bollinger's secretary."
Her voice had risen half an octave. She was trying to keep control, There was a faint, inarticulate, indistinguishable sound from the earpiece.
"Grrrrrr," said the telephone.
"Can you speak up?" Fear had enveloped the girl.
"Grr, er ur arr," said the telephone again.
Lana held it away from her as though it was a supernatural monster.
"Who are you? What are you?"
"Grr, rrr, arrr. spptttzzz," said the elephone.
She dropped it, backing away from it as though she expected to see some indescribable horror come out of it, billowing like a genie from a bottle, that would crystallise into a destructive horror. The hideous ululations were still coming from the mouthpiece. With her hands clasped in front of her mouth in a gesture of horror, Lana Davis backed towards the door. Suddenly, outside in the corridor, an alarm bell jangled, like a vast, campanological magnification of the telephone. There was no denying those strident, booming tones.
Something was seriously wrong at Tregorran Grange.
excerpts from Spectre of Darkness © R. Lionel Fanthorpe.
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