DIY History | Transcribe | Hevelin Fanzines | Fanfare, November 1950

Transcribe
Translate

Fanfare, November 1950

Page 20

and still stood reasonably intact. The stone roof had no holes that I could see, and the four walls had lost only a block here and there. It was really a sight to cheer the heart of a lost wanderer such as myself.
I found the door in the side facing north after some difficulties, and after making a preliminary survey of the interior with my penlight to ascertain the absence of any wild creatures, tossed my bags in and entered. The floor inside was covered with a thick layer of dust. That seemed at first to be the only feature of the room, but then I found that one of my suitcases was missing. I swept my dimming flash around the interior again and discovered a hidden rectangular hole in one corner which had eluded my initial probing. Directly within the abcess was a flight of roughly carved granite steps which extended downward into the earth beyond the range of the penlight beam. It seemed probable that the absent bag had fallen down the flight when I had thrown it in ahead of me.
I debated for a while about waiting until morning to look further into the matter, and finally decided that, inasmuch as I had a bottle of Scotch in the case, I wouldn't. Having made up my mind, I put a tentative foot upon the top step. Finding it bore my weight, I thrust my full weight on it preparatory to taking the next step. The aging stone gave way beneath this onslaught and I fell, smashing the flash into uselessness against the wall, into the darkness.
** **
I don't know how long I had lain there when I was awakened by a pitiful moaning sounding in my ear. I sat up and shook my head to clear a bit of the roaring ache out of it. The moaning came again. There was a dim light at the end of what appeared to be a corridor at the bottom of the stairs. The wails came from that direction. My first impulse was to dash back up the stairs to safety, but the moaning had in it a quality of human suffering that appealed to me for aid. As I was not a man to let his imagination frighten him, I scrambled to my feet and proceeded cautiously toward the uncertain illumination ahead. At first I had to feel my path along the sides of the passage, but as I came closer and closer to the source of the light I was able to walk with a surer step. I stopped when confronted by the outline of a doorway. Through which came the unsure light. I looked in stealthily.
The object of the chamber beyond the door was at once plainly evident. Instruments of torture lined the walls. All manner of hideous devices were revealed to my sight in that glance. And on one of them was a man from whom emanated groans and screams frightful to hear. He was fastened to a devilish contraption which I immediately recognized as the ancient stretching rack. The "rack" is a sort of table. A man  is laid full length upon the top of it and his feet secured to one end. His hands are tied to one end of a cord or rope, the other end of which is rolled around a drum fastened to the head of the rack. The drum may be turned, tightening the bonds of the man on the table and streeetching his body out of all proportion, causing intense agony in the process. A very effective method of torture.
The person I beheld upon the rack in the chamber under the ruins was suffering the utmost pains. His naked form was beaded with glistening droplets of sweat; his eyes protruded from his head, rolling from side to side; his chest rose and fell in irregular, gasping upheavals; reddish-blue welts covered his skin. In amazed contemplation I involuntarily cried out.
He heard me. His head turned to see me just inside the doorway.
page 20

Saving...

and still stood reasonably intact. The stone roof had no holes that I could see, and the four walls had lost only a block here and there. It was really a sight to cheer the heart of a lost wanderer such as myself. I found the door in the side facing north after some difficulties, and after making a preliminary survey of the interior with my penlight to ascertain the absence of any wild creatures, tossed my bags in and entered. The floor inside was covered with a thick layer of dust. That seemed at first to be the only feature of the room, but then I found that one of my suitcases was missing. I swept my dimming flash around the interior again and discovered a hidden rectangular hole in one corner which had eluded my initial probing. Directly within the abcess was a flight of roughly carved granite steps which extended downward into the earth beyond the range of the penlight beam. It seemed probable that the absent bag had fallen down the flight when I had thrown it in ahead of me. I debated for a while about waiting until morning to look further into the matter, and finally decided that, inasmuch as I had a bottle of Scotch in the case, I wouldn't. Having made up my mind, I put a tentative foot upon the top step. Finding it bore my weight, I thrust my full weight on it preparatory to taking the next step. The aging stone gave way beneath this onslaught and I fell, smashing the flash into uselessness against the wall, into the darkness. ** ** I don't know how long I had lain there when I was awakened by a pitiful moaning sounding in my ear. I sat up and shook my head to clear a bit of the roaring ache out of it. The moaning came again. There was a dim light at the end of what appeared to be a corridor at the bottom of the stairs. The wails came from that direction. My first impulse was to dash back up the stairs to safety, but the moaning had in it a quality of human suffering that appealed to me for aid. As I was not a man to let his imagination frighten him, I scrambled to my feet and proceeded cautiously toward the uncertain illumination ahead. At first I had to feel my path along the sides of the passage, but as I came closer and closer to the source of the light I was able to walk with a surer step. I stopped when confronted by the outline of a doorway. Through which came the unsure light. I looked in stealthily. The object of the chamber beyond the door was at once plainly evident. Instruments of torture lined the walls. All manner of hideous devices were revealed to my sight in that glance. And on one of them was a man from whom emanated groans and screams frightful to hear. He was fastened to a devilish contraption which I immediately recognized as the ancient stretching rack. The "rack" is a sort of table. A man is laid full length upon the top of it and his feet secured to one end. His hands are tied to one end of a cord or rope, the other end of which is rolled around a drum fastened to the head of the rack. The drum may be turned, tightening the bonds of the man on the table and streeetching his body out of all proportion, causing intense agony in the process. A very effective method of torture. The person I beheld upon the rack in the chamber under the ruins was suffering the utmost pains. His naked form was beaded with glistening droplets of sweat; his eyes protruded from his head, rolling from side to side; his chest rose and fell in irregular, gasping upheavals; reddish-blue welts covered his skin. In amazed contemplation I involuntarily cried out. He heard me. His head turned to see me just inside the doorway. page 20