“You must let me out,” he gasped.
“Oh no, I will throw you out, later. Now, you are here. That boy understood a little, and that girl too. They were young, they were alive, they were part of me; I loved to have them about me. Do you suppose that I care whether they are married; what is that to me? But they are gone. You with your blundering, you fat fool, you have done that; and now I will play with you.”
Maradick, suddenly feeling that if he did not move soon he would be unable to move at all, stumbled for the door. In an instant Morelli was upon him. His hand hung for an instant above Maradick like a whip in the air, then it fastened on his arm. It passed up to Maradick’s neck; his other hand was round his waist, his head was flung back.
Then curiously, with the touch of the other man’s hand Maradick’s strength returned. He was himself again; his muscles grew taut and firm. He knew at once that it was a case of life and death. The other man’s fingers seemed to grip his neck like steel; already they were pressing into the flesh. He shot out his arm and caught Morelli’s neck, but it was like gripping iron, his hand seemed to slip away. Then Morelli’s hand suddenly dug into Maradick’s shoulder-bone. It turned about there like a gimlet. Suddenly something seemed to give, and a hot burning pain twisted inside his flesh as an animal twists in its burrow. They swayed backwards and forwards in the middle of the room. Maradick pushed the other body slowly back and, with a crash, it met the table. The thing fell, and the lamp flamed for an instant to the ceiling and then was on the floor in a thousand pieces.
When the lamp fell the darkness seemed to leap like a wall out of the ground. It fell all about them; it pressed upon them, and the floor heaved to and fro.
They had turned round and round, so that Maradick was confused and could not remember where the door was. Then the other man’s hand was pressing on his throat so that he was already beginning to be stifled; then he felt that he was dizzy. He was swimming on a sea, lights flashed in and out of the darkness; the window made a grey square, and through this there seemed to creep innumerable green lizards—small with burning eyes; they crawled over the floor towards him. He began to whimper, “No, Morelli, please . . . my God . . . my God!” His shoulder burnt like fire; his brain began to reel so that he fancied that there were many people there crushing him. Then he knew that Morelli was slowly pressing him back. One hand was about his neck, but the other had crept in through his shirt and had touched the skin. Maradick felt the fingers pressing over his chest. Then the fingers began to pinch. They caught the flesh and seemed to tear it; it was like knives. All his body was on fire. Then the fingers seemed to be all over his limbs. They crept down to his hip, his thigh. They bit into his flesh, and then he knew that Morelli was pressing some nerve in his hip and pushing it from the socket. At that moment he himself became aware, for the first time, of Morelli’s body. He pressed against his chest and his fingers had torn the man’s clothes away. Morelli’s chest was hairy like an animal’s and cold as marble. He was sweating in every pore, but Morelli was icy cold. He dug his nails into the flesh, but they seemed to slip away. His arm was right round Morelli’s body; the cold flesh slipped and shrunk beneath his touch. His mouth was against Morelli’s neck. He had a sudden wild impulse to bite. He was becoming a wild beast. . . .
Then Morelli seemed to encircle the whole of him. Every part of his body was touched by those horrible fingers—his arms, his neck; it was as though he were being bitten to death. Then he felt in his neck teeth; something was biting him. . . .
He screamed again and again, but only a hoarse murmur seemed to come from his lips. He was still struggling, but he was going; the room seemed full of animals. They were biting him, tearing him; and then again he could feel the soft fingers stealing about his body.
A curious feeling of sleepiness stole over him. The pain in his shoulder and his arm was so terrible that he wanted to die; his body twitched with a fresh spasm of pain. Things—he did not know what they were—were creeping up his legs; soon they would be at his chest.
He knew that they were both naked to the waist. He could feel the blood trickling down his face and his arms. . . .