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- Herausgeber: Al-Mashreq eBookstore
- Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
- Serie: Doc. Turner Series
- Sprache: Englisch
The Eye of Death by Arthur Leo Zagat is a spine-tingling journey into the heart of darkness and mystery. When a renowned archaeologist discovers an ancient artifact known as the Eye of Death, an ominous and supernatural force is unleashed. As strange and deadly occurrences plague those involved, a relentless investigator must unravel the artifact's chilling secrets before more lives are claimed. With each clue revealing a deeper layer of the artifact's malevolent power, the stakes escalate into a battle against time and terror. Can the investigator stop the ancient curse, or will the Eye of Death prove too powerful to defeat? Dive into this riveting tale where every twist and turn could be your last.
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Seitenzahl: 28
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024
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Table of Contents
The Eye of Death
Synopsis
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Landmarks
Table of Contents
Cover
The Eye of Death
Synopsis
It was no more than a little disk of purple light—yet it brought terror and death to the tenements. Only Doc Turner knew how to combat that strange weapon of murder—and he was already doomed to die!
The Spider, August 1939, with "Doc Turner and the Eye of Death"
1
"LOOK!" someone shouted above the pushcart-market tumult. "Look at that light!" An arm rose above the lifting heads of the shuffling slum denizens. Andrew Turner looked in the direction its hand pointed.
Pole-hung electric bulbs poured garish glare down on the vivid-colored fruits and vegetables that piled the carts, but the "El" trestle which roofed Morris Street was dark with shadow. In that shadow, along rivet-studded steel, there now danced a bright purple disk the size of a silver dollar.
Apparently endowed with some eerie life of its own, the violet will-'o-the-wisp came to an iron pillar, darted down, flicked along the pushcarts, paler now but still plainly visible. It danced over pyramided oranges, over a green bank of cabbage-heads. It leaped the skull-capped, bewhiskered head of a purveyor of prayer shawls, alighted on a piebald array of dark red rhubarb, yellow celery, crimson tomatoes—then flame fountained! A huge, blinding violet flame, black-spotted with flying debris!
Thunder blasted, pounded Turner against the window-frame of his drugstore!
Screams, shrill with terror, pierced the white-haired old pharmacist's blast-engendered deafness. The dazzle cleared from his eyes and he saw shawled housewives, ragged urchins, swarthy-countenanced men, held rigid between the panicky urge to run and a compelling horror that drew them toward a smoking ruin in the gutter. For now a twisted and shapeless form lay on the sidewalk near the curb.
Andrew Turner's fleshless, acid-stained fingers shoved him away from his storefront. His shabby alpaca coat was dragged tight about his scrawny frame as he pushed through the crowd. The lines of age were cut more deeply into his gaunt, bony face. His lips were tight and grim beneath his bushy mustache.
Caught in a pocket of bodies, the druggist thrust unavailingly against a broad, overalled back. A work-gnarled hand reached over his shoulder and nudged the burly form blocking him. "Get outta the way," a hoarse voice grunted. "Let Doc Turner through."
"Doc Turner!" the fellow grunted. He shoved aside and a blonde-haired, round-faced woman exclaimed, "Ach! Here is Doc Turner." Murmurs followed the old druggist as a path for him opened magically, and the crowd's tension perceptibly eased.
These were Doc Turner's people, these poverty-stricken outlanders of Morris Street. He was their wise man, friend, protector. Nothing was quite as bad when Doc was there to take care of it. Nothing was ever so bad that Doc couldn't set it right.
