Rudyard Kipling's Tales of Horror and Fantasy
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From ghost stories to psychological suspense, the complete horror and dark fantasy stories of Rudyard Kipling.
Rudyard Kipling, a major figure of English literature, used the full power and intensity of his imagination and his writing ability in his excursions into fantasy. Kipling is considered one of England's greatest writers, but was born in Bombay. He was educated in England, but returned to India in 1882, where he began writing fantasy and supernatural stories set in his native continent: "The Phantom Rickshaw," "The Strange Ride of Morrowbie Jukes," and his most famous horror story, "The Mark of the Beast" (1890). This masterwork collection, edited by Stephen Jones (Britain's most accomplished and acclaimed anthologist) for the first time collects all of Kipling's fantastic fiction, ranging from traditional ghostly tales to psychological horror.
May no ill dreams disturb my rest, – ‘Quicker, Mottram! – Or powers of darkness me molest! ‘Bah! what an old hypocrite you are!’ ‘Don’t be an ass,’ said Lowndes. ‘You are at full liberty to make fun of anything else you like, but leave that hymn alone. It’s associated in my mind with the most sacred recollections—’ ‘Summer evenings in the country, – stained-glass window, – light going out, and you and she jamming your heads together over one hymnbook,’ said Mottram. ‘Yes, and a fat old
of my soul refused to be comforted. It was cowering in some minute and inadequate corner – at an immense distance. Hereafter, I found myself one person again, my hands still gripping my knees and my eyes glued on the page before Mr Shaynor. As dreamers accept and explain the upheaval of landscapes and the resurrection of the dead with excerpts from the evening hymn or the multiplication-table, so I had accepted the facts, whatever they might be, that I should witness, and had devised a theory,
which no sight lay, and I saw for the first time that she was beautiful. ‘Remember,’ she said quietly, ‘if you are fond of them you will come again,’ and disappeared within the house. The butler in the car said nothing till we were nearly at the lodge gates, where catching a glimpse of a blue blouse in a shrubbery I swerved amply lest the devil that leads little boys to play should drag me into child-murder. ‘Excuse me,’ he asked of a sudden, ‘but why did you do that. Sir?’ ‘The child
irritable in this weather.’ Dr Hennis looked at her admiringly as he packed up his bag. ‘No. Don’t tell anybody till we’re sure,’ he said, and hastened to the ‘Royal Oak’, while Mary went on with the paraffin. The village behind her was as quiet as usual, for the news had not yet spread. She frowned a little to herself, her large nostrils expanded uglily, and from time to time she muttered a phrase which Wynn, who never restrained himself before his womenfolk, had applied to the enemy. ‘Bloody
drilled the men and shown the people how to stack their oats better; and I’ve brought in those tinware rifles from Ghorband – but I know what you’re driving at. I take it Kings always feel oppressed that way.” ‘“There’s another thing too,” says Dravot, walking up and down. “The winter’s coming and these people won’t be givingmuch trouble, and if they do we can’t move about. I want a wife.” ‘ “For God’s sake leave the women alone!” I says. “We’ve both got all the work we can, though I am a fool.