LITMIR.BIZ

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she moaned words of passion into my ear. I fondled her golden flesh, my hands moving up her body. She lay purring with ecstasy. My angers reached her throat, caressing—then tightened.

      She made the mistake of believing that threats of torturing my wife could any longer affect me. Threats can be effective only if there is a choice. Whatever I did or did not do, Helen and I would die. Perhaps we could expect a quicker or more merciful death from her monstrous servants than from her.

      She writhed under me and her fingers clawed up at my face. Grimly I held on until her struggles ceased. But I did not quite kill her. A ray of hope flickered across my mind—a plan.

      When she was unconscious I ripped a bed sheet into strips and tied her hands and feet and crammed a gag into her mouth.

      Silently I moved to the door. There was no lock. Listening against the panel, I could not hear Emil. I ventured to open the door several inches and peered down the hall. No sight of anybody.

      A woman cried out hoarsely. Not downstairs in the torture chamber, but in one of the rooms along the hall. And then I knew. Four naked women down there, guarded by four monsters! Without Tala Mag there to hold them back, the result was inevitable. That was why Emil had for once disobeyed her orders.

      I shut the door and returned to the bed. As I thought of Helen in the embrace of one of those hideous servants, I went frantic with impatience. But I had to take my time if I wanted to save Helen and the others at all.

      In my pocket I found a couple of matchbooks and a package of crumpled cigarettes. I lit a cigarette, then went into the adjoining bathroom and got water and revived Tala Mag. She glared up at me with all the fury of hell.

      I sat down on the bed. “Listen,” I said. “Somewhere in this house there must be weapons. Perhaps also an extra key to the chains downstairs. You will tell me where they are.”

      Her eyes were contemptuous.

      I puffed on the cigaret and then crushed the lighted tip against her abdomen. Her torso arched and fell back on the bed. I lit another cigaret and kept the match alive, letting the tiny flame trail between her heaving breasts. And when that match died, I lit others, and I also kept a cigaret constantly glowing.

      I had not thought that I could so calmly torture any woman, no matter how evil she may be; but she had made me into a creature akin to herself, and Helen’s life, and more than her life, was at stake.

      The contempt in her face gave way to fear—and pain. She squirmed and thrashed on the bed, but could not escape the steady torment of the matches and cigaret tips. And at last she indicated that she was ready to talk.

      I kept one hand about her throat while with the other I removed the gag. Even then she thought to betray me, as I had expected, but my ready fingers choked off her shriek before it could get started.

      “Don’t raise your voice,” I said. “Now start talking.”

      “The third door to the right down the hall,” she gasped. “There are guns in the desk drawer, and the key.”

      I shoved the gag back between her teeth. Noiselessly I let myself out into the hall and stood there. She was lying, of course; her first attempt would be to lead me into a trap. I heard sounds come from down the hall which froze my blood, No doubt the third room on the right was where the monsters had taken the women.

      When I returned to the bedroom, Tala Mag’s eyes widened with surprise. She had imagined that by now I would have walked into the monster’s den.

      I dropped down on the bed and struck a match. Her head wagged frantically, signaling that this time she would tell the truth. I ignored her; I could not afford to take another risk. I let the flame lick the bare soles of her feet. Her body tied up in a knot and whimpers dribbled through the gag.

      Present I said: “If you fool me once again, I will return and set fire to the mattress.”

      I pulled out the gag. She had to clear her throat several times before words would come through. “In that dresser—a bunch of keys. One for the chains—another unlocks the room—across the way—a gunroom. It’s the truth. Please, don’t—don’t torture me again.”

      “So you can’t take it yourself!” I said, replacing the gag.

      The bunch of keys were in the dresser drawer all right. I had to take the chance that they were the right ones. I stood over her and pointed to each key in turn. She nodded when I indicated the one for the chains and the one for the gunroom.

      This time she hadn’t dared to lie. No sound came through the door of the room across the hall. The key worked and I found myself in a cozily furnished den. Stuffed animals and fish were on the walls and on a rack were a dozen hunting rifles and shotguns. I selected five rifles, found cartridges to fit, and, burdened with the guns, went downstairs.

      All the servants were occupied with the women. In the torture chamber I found the four men still in their chains and the horrible corpse of Inez Spaulding dangling from the ceiling. The men, knowing what was happening to their wives upstairs, seemed more dead than alive.

      For a while they refused to believe the testimony of their eyes. But when I at last had them all free and was distributing the rifles, their expressions changed from hopeless to relentless thirst for vengeance.

      “God, I want just one shot at them!” Victor Rooney exclaimed, stating what all of us felt. “Hurry!” Frank Bord urged. “Our poor wives up there!”

      We had to leave Rob Spaulding behind, because he would be no use to us. He crawled over to the dangling corpse of his wife and jabbered up at it. He was utterly mad.

      I led the way to the upstairs room and kicked in the door. The other three crowded behind me, and momentarily we froze with horror.

      * * * *

      The four huge creatures were on the floor, each with one of our wives. In order to whet their bestial appetites they were toying with them, slobbering over their quivering bodies. And the women were still going through the futile motions of struggling, so that I knew, with a lifting of my heart, that we had not arrived too late.

      Emil was with my wife, and it was he who first became aware of our presence. Bellowing, he rose to his feet and charged at me like an enraged bull. I was ready and put a bullet in his massive chest before he was halfway across the room. And still he came on!

      We had prepared our strategy while coming up the stairs. I slid away from the doorway and Cuyler took my place. His bullet dropped Emil. Then Rooney was in the doorway, his gun ready.

      The servants were unarmed, and as they plunged toward the door one of us was always there to meet him with a bullet. By the time four bullets had been fired, it was again my turn at the door. In the interim I had reloaded my rifle. Two were dead and one wounded. The fourth, Wick, was crouching behind Lillian Bord, using her as a shield.

      Our tactic had been calculated to keep our wives out of the line of our bullets. I dropped the wounded servant, then we advanced into the room. Wick screeched as we moved around his living shield. Then he reared up and got his mighty hands on Bord. He would have snapped Bord’s head like a twig if Rooney hadn’t jabbed the bore of his rifle up under Wick’s chin and blasted away. The discharge almost lifted the monster’s head off.

      Each of us went hysterical then, snatching up his wife and crushing her to him. Suddenly Frank Bord cried out.

      Naked, Tala Mag stood in the doorway. She had managed to free herself. In her hands was a double-barreled shotgun. Her face was contorted with hate.

      We had dropped our rifles. Both barrels of that shotgun could do frightful damage in the confines of the room. The final triumph, was, after all, Tala Mag’s.

      Her lips curled back over pointed white teeth. Her finger tightened on the trigger.

      We did not notice the shape that loomed up behind her. We saw only an arm whip about her neck and yank her backwards. The gun thundered; the discharge tore into the ceiling. And then Tala Mag was on the floor, thrashing in the

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