By HERBERT VAN THAL
1st Pan 1971 version paperback vg . In inventory shipped from our united kingdom warehouse
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Additional resources for 12th Pan Book of Horror
He told himself that it was an anamorphosis, a deformed figure which would appear in proportion if only he could view it correctly, but at the same time he feared it was something that could never be shaped by human logic, something beyond the understanding of man because it was more than man and less than man, some monstrous combination of man and beast from a dimension apart from ours. At times, in the light of day, he ridiculed himself for such fanciful thoughts, but in the night the facts came tumbling back - it walked as a man and ran as a beast, it possessed talons that could shred human flesh and still open doors, the strength to tear a man's head off and the grisly desire to carry that head away to its lair.
The terror did not come until he had actually turned and looked at the hedgerow; stared as the hedge parted, and he looked into the grotesque face of death. Rose ran. He ran as fast as madness could propel him down the narrow lane. He had looked into the face of the killer, but it made no impression on his mind. His mind did not function, he did not feel anything as his instincts took possession of his functions. Perhaps the soundwaves of the feet that padded behind him reached his ears, but his ears sent no impression to his brain.
Rose watched the two men walk away. The photographer fingered his camera eagerly. All he had photographed so far was the exterior of the cottage, and he was feeling slighted. But Rose suddenly blinked; his expression changed. He had just realized what line his story should take. Murders were one a hundred, man-killing beasts a novelty but not unheard of. What he needed was a completely different approach, a means of capitalizing on the shock and horror of human torment in the greatest possible manner.
12th Pan Book of Horror by HERBERT VAN THAL